#reliable narrator

[jcs-singular-slut-strand]

Reliable narrator to you, I don't believe him

[soapcan18]

What is your fav “you may be better in a fight but I’ve got more to lose tonight” ship (this is talking abt the song Reliable Narrator by Chase Petra pls listen to it 🙏)

[hawkzeyes]

Exaaaaaactly tho

Batman/Huntress: Cry For Blood (2000)

Song: Reliable Narrator by Chase Petra

[fallish]

hit me where it hurts,

the bruising will be worth

the freedom I have earned

from letting everything burn

- reliable narrator, chase petra

[mindlessmusicindulgence]

I need people to really sit and appreciate the lyrics of these songs

did you forget that I am not a pacifist a scar well earned from a love that was well-worth it did you forget

Now the most human thing left about me Is my love of stories and my greed I need someone to read me to sleep Can’t take one more thought from my psyche

Mother, father

You are flawed and you can falter

I forgive you

Now I have perspective and can see you

I don’t have to hide from myself

From the parts that resemble you

[freefragment]

A half baked bang

A glib imbroglio

*all true except the parts that are fake.

A lady on holiday, feeling unsatisfied and starved of touch, decided to reach out to a long standing friend. At first her intentions were pure, but one strike of curiosity darkened the white.

“Can we intensify a different pillar of our friendship, the more physical one preferably?,” she asked. She figured that the 10 year long companionship could withstand experimentation. A low risk for a potentially high gain in the network of her life.

Looking up, his face not betraying his thoughts, he replied with more of an acknowledgment when she expected a cheer, like receiving a bland smile.

Nevertheless, the song and dance began that moonlit evening.

She observes him, as he fumbles to advance and lead— “Where will his hands go? What parts of me would he desire? How does he feel?” The anticipation shouting in her head.

“Should I lead?,” she asks noticing his lack of direction. To which he replied with tentative approval. In retrospect, she should have noted the passivity then.

She began to undress and position herself on top of him, asserting dominance symbolically, because in truth, although she had experience, she was never in the position to backlead. It required too much of her energy and a social acumen she didn’t possess. Nevertheless, she proceeded to service with feigned confidence and foolish courage.

Her mind rushed with doubt to provide an enjoyable experience, for it was his first time. The inner critic reprimanding her choices on top of questioning her reality—“Why does your hand do this? Is this where your tongue should go? Shouldn’t you check in? Did you lotion today? Does your breath smell good? Is he even enjoying? Are you capable of satisfying your dear friend?”

She was surprised with the result of her advances. Usually sensations are heightened for her when drunk off Mary Jane, but the proceedings of this interaction were lukewarm. Like tepid water that has been left out—slightly off, but hydrates in the end. The exchange felt stagnant and monotonous.

They continued going through the motions to the point of disingenuous performance. She explored his body and allowed him to explore hers, continuously hoping for an allegro, would settle for an adagio, but really yearning for a union of both that would never come.

She devolved herself to a tool, one in which he could use in accordance to his motives, and stripped of a voice. An inanimate approach to body flight.

The arbitrary contact of their lips, the slushing sounds of their body, and the eyes that never meet were all too agonizingly sobering when juxtaposed to her expectations.

It turns out, he wasn’t interested in her. The ritualistic escalation, an almost gynecological exploration, and the clumsy glibness that would never pass as expressions of genuine desire made it clear to her that they were both out of sync. Threads of a skein that would seemingly never meet.

This unyielding fact broke her spirit. She found herself envious of the imaginary fortunate that held his affection. Why couldn’t she be enough? What was the marsh missing in her garden? Her envy turned to lonliness, which she forced into dissociation in order lick the burgeoning wounds in her pride.

The final moments of the dance ends uninspiringly. It’s late, or early, she wakes greeted by an unreserved moon and no trace of him. Both are disillusioned and return as if nothing had happened. The experiment ending in ennui as a result of half baked effort that tried to change a settled relationship. The only difference being a broken hope as they wait for the sun to rise again.

[jacquissss]

I’m going to get a tattoo

Why?

A) I like to fidget. Yes it’s the primary reason. I want to have something permanent on me that I can trace that’s socially acceptable.

B) Im getting a rose. My middle name is Rose, after my great-grandma (who is still alive and very much a badass). Roses are pretty, but also thorny and will cut you.

C) I like to eat rose petals, and my favourite song of all time, Reliable Narrator, which is all about taking control of your life, and not being afraid to be yourself, has roses as a prominent theme.

D) it’s freaking cool as heck!!

The left image is the style I’m getting by the artist, the right is the sort of image I’m going to get

[crow-rai]

Chase Petra's voice

that's it. that's the post.

[designdotskye]

Can I make things I’m proud of with just supplies I already have in my cubicle?

This time yes. Probably only because it’s based off the new Chase Petra song and that’s my current hyperfixation. The real question is will I still like this later.

[velvet-ebook]

one of my students transformed my thinking on the "reliable narrators" fixture in literature which is that NONE of us are reliable-- and also all of us are. Perspective is truth, but perspective is not accuracy. I don't use this model anymore because often it's kind of like "oh this narrator's a liar, this narrator's depressed, this narrator's committing crimes, etc etc." We have to trust anyone who's telling their story, that's human and artistic connection! Literature is not a legal record, it's witness!

not a single reliable narrator in sight

[fallish]

so I am addressing the crowd again

and it tastes like the truth but I sound uncertain

cause second guessing my own mind’s

a skill I’m well-versed in

-reliable narrator, chase petra

[penna-nomen]

my favorite recent example is the novel Everyone in My Family has Killed Someone -- somewhat annoying narrator, but also fascinating

"Way too reliable narrator" where the narrator provides documentation and proof for how they know every detail in the narrative and an estimate of how confident they are in it.

[chironeis]

the thing is that martin thinks it took "two years of crisis and trauma" just to make him and jon compatible and the reason jon doesn't know how to rebut that wildly incorrect fact is because he's barely aware that he had a stick so far up his ass in season one that it grew roots in his brain before he stubbornly and meticulously and with gritted teeth plucked them all out. jon could've plucked those roots out before all the trauma and crises if he simply chose to. and he would. in so many universes. because martin (and friendship and love and connection) is worth it. mic drop

[userarmand]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE “I Could Not Prevent It"