#so ig it just fell on the power line last night during all that and because it's 4pm the sun was hitting that spot and boomf

[lingeringscars]

trees are catching fire and falling around my house so u know fun stuff

[corinthbayrpg]

NAME. Deucalion Laskaris AGE & BIRTH DATE. 3000+ & Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. He/Him SPECIES. Vampire OCCUPATION. Unemployed FACE CLAIM. Calahan Skogman

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: child soldier, death, and murder ) The son of a powerful Spartan family, Deukalion was born with a set of expectations, the trajectory of his life already planned out ahead of him. His years with his birth family have long since faded, and if asked, he can’t recall a single name, much less a face. In his mind, his life did not truly begin until the age of seven, when he had been given over to the city-state to train as an agoge, as was mandatory for all young boys. It was a brutal world, used to train those of fortitude into soldiers, and weed out the weak that would be incapable of serving Sparta, and many did not survive. But Deukalion was always a clever sort, with a tenacious will that kept him alive through the rigorous years.

Not even royalty were spared from the experience, a Spartan prince amongst the agoge when he joined, only a few years older. The boys were taught to fight, to compete, and encouraged to steal for their survival — but punished severely if caught. He still bears the scars across his back from the whip of the mastigophoroi to this day, but it only served as motivation for him to be quicker, more cunning and vigilant to survive his youth. Deukalion’s nimble fingers became as much an asset as his mind for strategy, and he was only ever caught twice. The prince Hykinthos became his closest friend and companion, and while those around them fell to starvation, disease or injury, as their numbers dwindled down into only a handful, the pair were always considered the most promising of the agoge.

No longer boys but young men, of the few that remained to age out of the paidiskoi into hebontes, only Deukalion and Hykinthos were selected to become members of the Crypteia. He had made a favorable impression upon the elders, who saw him more fit for potential leadership than the average soldier. They were charged with maintaining a unified and prosperous Sparta, quashing any rebellion and keeping the helots in line. It was during his time with the kryptai that he became truly adept at killing, serving as a merciless executioner for Mother Sparta, the blood on his hands red enough to stain entire cities. And yet Deukalion felt no remorse, no sympathy, his loyalty to Sparta second to none else. It was a role he served with pride, and a young man’s arrogance that his will was the correct one.

Such will carried him straight into the military, after his time in the Crypteia came to an end. Still a companion of the prince, he followed along his brother in arms in campaigns all across the Greek world, reveling in one victory after another. But it was then that Hykinthos caught the attention of a god — more than one, and that ended up becoming his doom. Jealousy led to the end of the promising young man’s life, from two gods who refused to be denied. But even so, life continued on for the Spartans.

Grieving over the loss of his closest friend, it was then that Deukalion was approached by cryptic and mysterious man, on the eve before another battle in their endless campaigning. Though he had no magic of his own, it was plain to see that the stranger was no mortal man, and with him he came with an offer: that he could make Deukalion into one of the most fearsome creatures on the planet, strong enough to rip apart his foes with his bare hands. The temptation proved too great for him to resist, in the end. Though an excellent warrior, cutting his way through one bloody battlefield after another, he was still just a human, and therefore fragile. So he took the stranger’s deal, and did not flinch when made to drink his blood, not really knowing what agreement he just made.

When dawn came and the soldiers set out, Deukalion expected the effects to be instantaneous. Perhaps it made him reckless, or maybe that was just his grief, but the end result was the same regardless. When the battle hit a stalemate and both sides retreated, he had been left behind on the ground, along with all the other dying soldiers. It was only then that the man from before approached him again, looking down on him like one might a bug under their foot. It was the last sight that Deukalion saw of his mortal life, before the cold iron grasp of death took him. Then his second life began.

Hektor, that was the name of the man that turned him, then told him the truth of what he had become. A vrykolakas, a creature of the night that feeds on the blood of other species for sustenance. And above all, he was servant of Persephone, for it was through her that they were created. His life as a Spartan was over — now all that mattered was to carry out the goddess’s will. Deukalion was stubborn at first, a lifetime loyalty to Sparta not so easily discarded. It was only when his bloodlust had him ripping into his own men that he realized he could no longer continue with his old way of life. It seemed like the best choice, at the time, to join Hektor and leave the lands which he called his home. Looking back today, he wonders if he would not have been better off to make his way on his own.

Traveling with his sire was both an interesting and dangerous experience, but Deukalion had always thrived at adapting. He learned quick and learned well, how to not only survive in his new life, but to become an adept at it. Becoming a member of Persephone’s Cult was an inevitability, and for awhile, he was truly dedicated to fulfilling the purpose he was given as a vrykolakas. He turned a great number of people in his early years, with little care for how they turned out, and killed a great many more. But eventually, the shine of all fanaticism fades, and the longer Deukalion had on this earth, the more disillusioned he became with the idea of everything. Still, trying to leave would be a fool’s decision, as surely Hektor would not let him walk away so freely. So even while his dedication waned, he remained in the cult, carefully stepping back from the intensity of his involvement.

It was after this time that Deukalion truly came into more of his own. The world was his to explore, anything he wanted ripe for the taking. He still turned others into vrykolakas as well, but only those who asked for the gift, and did his best to keep them out of the knowledge of the cult, that they wouldn’t fall into the same snare he once had. And with the changing of the times, so did he, in order to keep up with the world. Deukalion became Deucalion Laskaris, and then eventually Cal. He traveled with Hektor infrequently, keeping in contact with the cult enough to not be wholly disconnected, before continuing on with his own existence after they parted ways again. But it was during one such time that his life once again pivoted course.

A group of them had gathered in France, after the death of the Louis XIV in the eighteenth century. While he held little interest in most of the congregants, content to linger off to the side while the others partook in worship of the goddess, there was one in particular that caught his eye. He was still young, by Cal’s own standards at least, and yet he held the ancient Spartan’s attention when they spoke. So much so, that when it came time to leave, he invited the other vampire along with him. It wasn’t the first time he found such interest in another person; over the thousands of years of his life, Cal had found a number of companions, both lovers and friends alike. But none that affected him so much as this one. His name was Eliseo, and for perhaps the first time since his human life, Cal found something to care about rather than himself.

From then on the two vampires were hardly separable, wherever they went had always been together. There was a great deal of the world Ig had not known outside the limited views of the cult, and Cal intended to show it to him. They returned to France to witness the fall of a monarchy, a king’s head removed from his shoulders, then later in Greece as it declared it’s independence from the Ottoman Empire, the first country to successfully do so. There was much to see in the ever evolving world, and for once, he had someone by his side that he truly wanted to experience it with.

It was for his beloved that they ended up settling on a ranch in Texas, for a time. The old owners were a disagreeable sort, but little match for the vampire that had set sight on their land. There were rumors about the seemingly young men who moved in, of course. A low whisper that perhaps something dark occurred on the vast acreage, but the locals of the town who had questions were soon put at ease by a vampire’s charm, compelled to think little of the matter. He even ended up with another progeny, a young man that had been working as a ranch hand before he was beset by unfortunate events, welcomed into their small sort-of family as he adjusted to life of the undead. It was a homely setup, one Cal wouldn’t have minded residing in further, had fate not stepped in the way.

It started with the fall of the veil. All three vampires died inside their home, only to return two weeks later when time had been reset. Though he had managed to avoid getting wrapped up in the cult’s activities in Greece thus far, only hearing about strange events from secondhand sources, it became too much to ignore after his second death. It was Cal’s choice to ultimately travel to the city, with Eli and his progeny coming along as well, unaware of what exactly they would find inside.

PERSONALITY

+ adaptable, composed, calculating - selfish, remorseless, apathetic

PLAYED BY  Abby. CDT. She/Her.

[2spry]

Ozark Foothills 50k Race Recap

Oh man… so I don’t even know where to start. I guess at the beginning. This was my first race back since I broke my foot, 1 year to the day actually. I still can’t believe it worked out that way. I was looking at races that were easy to travel to, and that were loop courses. I wanted a looped course in case my foot said “nope” and I needed to hop off course easily. I signed up for this race only 5 weeks out! I had had a year of major ups and downs, with multiple attempts at upping mileage with no avail. Every time I tried to increase or even add in a little speed work or hill training, my foot would blow up. When I say blow up, the pain would be bad enough to cause me to limp. It wasn’t until really February where I was not having much pain anymore. I hit, on average, in the 60-70 mile range for Jan and Feb, with 116 miles total in March. I also had only 2 speed work sessions (they were easier ones). So I signed up with the goal of only using this as a training run, to make sure my foot could handle the distance. If it did, I was going to pick a longer race next and really train for it! I was extremely nervous because having your foot snap during a race is very scary and the pain is something you never forget. I have had to work hard on my mind this past year because the fear was really taking over. The mind is so powerful. Working hard on mental training has been a huge help for me. That is one of my weaknesses.

The day before the race was crazy!!! I thought I really had everything lined up, but so many things happened which led to getting off late. It worked out though! This was an Altra sponsored race so I was also going to the packet pickup to help out my local Altra rep Erica, and I was covering the race for Road Runner Sports on their Instagram account. Doing both of these things was incredibly fun for me! I love new experiences! Plus, it got me out of my head!!! They had a screening of The Double, and the speaker was Jeff Browning (aka @GoBroncoBilly). It was chalk full of awesome information. One of the main things I took away from his talk was to slay the negative thoughts of the mind. I know this, but to hear someone so accomplished say that they have to do this all the time, really brought it home to me. The mind is so powerful. Once that was over we headed to the hotel.

We got to the hotel around 8:45ish and headed to the room. So far everything had been rather uneventful. Then the room keys wouldn’t work and we got locked out! Phones were in the room (key worked at first and then just wouldn’t, no idea). Anyway, we finally got everything in and ate dinner around 9:30. While I was eating, I realized, oh my goodness, I forgot to get my race packet!!! LOL!!! I mean who does that!?!? Goes to the race packet pickup and forgets to pickup their race packet!?!? Me apparently. Thank goodness they had race day pickup! Then we realized we forgot the bottom to the electric kettle for coffee in the am. Oh well. The front desk was able to provide it. After all that, I finally headed to sleep close to midnight. And sleep I didn’t.

Up at 3:45 exhausted! However, I did not have a headache or migraine which was HUGE!!! I cannot remember a race where I didn’t have one of those the night before or the day of. (When I ran my 50 miler, I had a migraine from the night before and it didn’t abate for 7 hrs of the race!) Not having a headache gave me such a boost!!! We got there at around 6:15 and it was foggy and dark. I had thought for a moment that it wasn’t going to lift, making a note to bring my headlamp next time just in case. It did finally lift and turned into a gorgeous sunrise!

I was super nervous, freezing (yes me the cold weather runner was freezing lol!), and very thankful once she blew the horn to start. I kept reminding myself that this is a training run, no pressure! I started out very conservative. I was really watching my footing (I did the whole race) and just trying to ease into a steady easy pace. It did take me awhile to warm up, but once I got going I felt pretty good! I would say after the 5th mile I felt like I was getting in a groove, getting more comfortable with the terrain, but I could feel my lack of training then too. Just the amount of vert and all the rocks and roots that I am not used to. My quads and ankles let me know that really quick, but I told my mind to shut it, slayed those negative thoughts, and told myself to just enjoy this! (There was 3,800 ft of ascent so lots of hills) I started to look around at the beauty of where I was and just got really emotional. Here I was running, in a gorgeous area, on trails, in an ultra, healthy. What a blessing!!! That gave me a boost and I started to pick up the pace. I think this was around mile 10-12. I started to pass people, but I had no idea what race they were running. You are on the course with 25k, 50k, and 50 mile runners.

Coming through the half, I felt really good! I really was ultra conservative with my footing and therefore hadn’t fallen yet. My upper body felt really good, and I know a big part of this was because of my new race vest fitting seamlessly. Super important to find one that works for your body! I filled up my water bladder with Ultima Replenisher, and headed out! But then had to run back cuz I forgot my MUIR gels!!! LOL! Made a bathroom pitstop and finally headed out. I had no stomach issues with that combination, it worked well!

The hardest mile for me was 17. My hands started to swell like crazy! I was using salt, so I didn’t know why I was swelling so bad. Still unsure of the cause. They were so swollen that I actually thought I was going to have to cut off my ring. I was feeling a bit more tired, and just kind of worried. I started opening and closing my hands and telling myself it was going to be fine. Then, about a mile or two later, it started to go down a bit and relief washed over me. I began to think about all my friends that can’t run right now and began running miles for them, praying for them and for this race. I started to pick up the pace. Once I started running, I began to catch up to people. It was so spread out at this point that passing was pretty easy. I hit a string of two people and wanted to pass them but I kept thinking, no they are keeping you conservative, you don’t want to blow up you’ve come so far. I was kind of panicking. I felt so good I thought it was a fluke. So I stayed for too long. Finally I told myself what are you doing!?!? Get going! So I asked to pass and took off. I kept passing people. I had someone tell me hey you’re going really fast!!! Are you sure you're feeling ok? (It was getting really hot at this point, 70’s) I said yes I feel great! They cheered me on! Each aid station had amazing volunteers and I cannot tell you how much their cheers help! I continued to try and catch people. I started having water poured into my mouth (I didn’t have a cup) and ice in my fandana to help with the heat. Plain water was tasting so good at that point. I also began grabbing orange slices.

I hit the last aid station feeling great! So much so that I neglected to check my water bladder. It was empty. You might not think that is a big deal, but it really is. In that heat with miles to go, you need it. I let myself have an “uh oh” moment and then moved on. Those last few miles were tough. I felt pretty dehydrated and very nauseous, but I kept pushing. I fell twice because I got a bit sloppy at watching my footing, and then rolled my ankle pretty bad. I noticed that not one person was around me still. I ran alone for a lot of the race. After limping a bit I pressed on and started running, only to hear footsteps behind me coming fast, I moved over and it was Jeff Browning. LOL! He was cruising, but made sure to take the time to tell me to keep pushing! So I did! I ran all the way into the finish! I had no idea if I was even in the top 10, so when I crossed the line and Shalini the RD told me I was 3rd female I was in complete shock!!! It was like a dream.

From one year ago breaking my foot, to now taking 3rd was crazy. It was a huge confidence boost to know that my foot could handle the distance and that I was able to have a podium finish with as little training as I did. I felt so blessed and humbled. A new memory to replace the old. A realization that I can do this! A thankful heart to have been able to run this race and finish. A grateful heart for all of the support and new friends that I made at this event. Thankful to the Lord for the gift of running.

Now that I know I can handle distance again, I am going to find my next race and really train for it. I am so excited and hopeful for the future. I cannot wait to see what happens!!!

Huge thank you to all the volunteers, the RD Shalini, my mother, and all of you who commented and supported me through this journey. Big thank you also to Road Runner Sports, Altra Running, Jaybird Sport, OS1st, Yukon Charlies, and Momentum Jewelry for your awesome support and gear to get me through!

Gear: Altra Running King MT 1.5 and gaiters Road Runner Sports R-Gear Recharge Compression Capri Altra running performance tank Garmin Fenix 5 Os1st Arm Sleeves Injinji trail crew socks Ultimate Direction Race Vesta with bladder not front bottles

Fuel: MUIR energy gels Ultima electrolyte replenisher Salt stick KION essential amino acids

Balm: Squirrel’s Nut Butter

Pic Cred IG accounts: Trail @mile90photo, Finish @alex.fagin

[musicallyrich]

Crate Digger’s Corner: 3/6/19 Adrian Belew live at the Fine Line; Minneapolis, MN

Crate Digger’s Corner…by DJ Musically Rich

If you are Frank Zappa, David Byrne, Robert Fripp, David Bowie, Trent Reznor or a host of others and need a guitarist to round out your album and/or touring band there is one name that has shared time with all…Adrian Belew. At the Fine Line Music Café Adrian Belew took the stage as the leader of his own quartet and as the frigid Minnesota temperatures fell outside, he heated up the several hundred in attendance on the early March evening.

I arrived with two friends and we came in on the tail end of the first song, but he quickly shifted into his second song on what would become a (welcome) recurring theme of the night. He played the title track to the 2002 King Crimson EP “Happy With What You Have To Be Happy With”. I don’t own an extensive amount of his solo albums. I am definitely not familiar with his newer material, although, from what I have wandered across today, he headed a power trio (maybe actually named that) for an extended period. I mention this, one, because I cannot give you the titles of a lot of the songs they played. Two, I was definitely unfamiliar with some of the songs as well. One solo song that I knew and knew the name of was ‘Men In Helicopters’. It’s a thoughtful song about the toll that man puts on the earth’s resources.  His band consisted of himself on guitar, a bass player, drummer and a second guitarist/multi-instrumentalist. He did a short set with just the power trio (I’m assuming all of the songs came from that era as well), and that was part of the highlight of the night. When stripped down to a three piece, it was fun to hear them and it felt a little more aggressive (note this was just the 8th show with the multi-instrumentalist, and he mentioned that the other two had been part of the trio, so I think with some more time that will help with the cohesion of the quartet. That being said I had absolutely no issue with the play of the quartet, either). He also played ‘Troubles’ from the album “Side Three”. That was the third of three experimental albums he released featuring him solo on the second album (with a few miscellaneous musicians, and with Les Claypool (Primus, Frog Brigade, Oysterhead) and Danny Carey (Tool) along with the few other musicians on the first and third albums.

Throughout the show, besides revisiting lots of snippets of Crimson licks within solos, he also had that recurring theme, which was playing King Crimson songs that he had been a part of during his time with that group, which spanned over two decades. Along with the one that was already mentioned, he played two in a row, the blistering, angular ‘Frame by Frame’ and ‘Neal And Jack And Me’, which is a bit gentler in sound (both from the early 80′s). He also ripped through a version of ‘Three Of A Perfect Pair’. His final song, which had tons of looping and effects (maybe off of “Twang Bar King”, one of those I know but can’t pinpoint)  was a great workout and afterwards many in attendance left, and admittedly, he made it sound like the last song of the set should be expected as an encore as well (I felt). They also turned up the house lights which is usually a sign of no more music. Then, he came back, and all that were still in the building gathered back into the center of the room as the band came back and played an absolutely wonderful, menacing ‘Thela Hun Ginjeet’ for the final song, also a Crimson tune.

His band was on fire. Adrian was on fire. If you are into guitarists who are complete masters of their craft, Adrian Belew is still at the top of his game. At 69 years of age, his voice isn’t quite what it used to be, but I don’t imagine that there was anyone left disappointed because of that. I would say, as if it wasn’t implied already, is that it feels a little like he’s putting together a band to resemble the ‘80s Crimson band he started with. If that’s the case, and even if it isn’t, what matters is that it is working. You won’t see many more talented. They are obviously enjoying themselves, and most obviously, the crowd had a great time. If Adrian Belew is headed to your town on this tour, and it is still in its beginnings, get out there and catch the show.

Some of the many albums he shows up on (for other artists or as part of a band) [obviously all recommended]:  The Bears- s/t, David Bowie- Stage, David Bowie- Welcome To The Blackout, Bela Fleck & The Flecktones- Outbound, King Crimson- Discipline, Cyndi Lauper- True Colors, Nine Inch Nails- The Downward Spiral, NIN- The Fragile, NIN- Hesitation Marks, Porcupine Tree- Deadwing, Paul Simon- Graceland, Paul Simon- The Rhythm Of The Saints, Talking Heads- Remain In Light, Tori Amos- Strange Little Girls, Frank Zappa- Sheik Yerbouti

A few recommendations from his catalog: “Twang Bar King”, “Young Lions”, “Inner Revolution”, “Side Three”

To see photos of albums in my collection follow me at djmusicallyrich on IG.

Here is a clip from a live show of his from a few years ago...

[sweetaselle]

In My Own Words: (Heo Young Saeng Fanfic) Chapter 1

A/N: Click here for the AsianFanfics link... Please subscribe, while you’re there :)

Jongno, Seoul 15:45pm 

Young Saeng’s POV

I played a few scales, hoping with some luck that the melody would work better than my unfinished lyrics.

I wanted the tune to sound dreamy and wondrous, like witnessing the first snow on a winter night. I wanted to feel the chill of the icy breeze on my hands, as I caressed the piano keys and let the whole apartment be filled with music. I wanted to feel the soft, warm embrace of her arms around my neck in that cable-knit sweater I got her that Christmas.

“Got.” Past tense.

A sudden pause paralyzes me, then a crash! as I slam my head and my elbows onto the keyboard. “Aishhhh, c’mon, Heo Young Saeng, focus!”

My phone rings. Grudgingly, I answer, rubbing my eyes in frustration. “Yeoboseyo? Ne, I’ve finished melody... The lyrics? Most of them.”

My manager flips out on the other line, causing my eye to twitch as I push the receiver farther away from ear.

“Ne, calm down, hyung-nim... I’ll send the chords and lyrics to Steven hyung, before I head to the airport. It’s going to go through several drafts anyway like every song we have creative freedom in.”

“Don’t give me that, Saengie... you know, if you didn’t want part in writing the ballad for the mini-album, you could’ve just said so. Save us your man-PMS, get your head outta the past, and get to work!”

I bit my lip so hard that I swear I would’ve bled to death.

“Oh... mianhe, Young Saengie. That was out of line. I know this is a difficult time of year for you, but we’ve gotta stay focused in order to make this comeback on time.”

“Araso, araso... I get it, hyung-nim.”

“Kyu Jong-ah is here, and we’re about to pick up Junnie, if you want to talk to the--”

“Aniyo, gwenchaneyo... I’ll meet you guys at the terminal, and I WILL have the main ballad done before then.”

“Ok, Young Saengie... just take care of yourself, ok, and get here safe please?”

“Ne...” 

Click! Phew... and I thought I was the one nagging like an eomma with the group.

I looked up at my journal at the sheet stand. Its bookmark fashioned with my old, cross earring that I was quite fond of back during debut days. I sighed, bowing my head slightly as if it was a silent prayer. You’ve got this, Young Saeng... your name doesn’t mean “Eternal life” for nothing. If you got through losing her, you can get through this.

At the tip of a hat, I became a composing machine. Every chord, every note, every word that were left unspoken... I let it all out on that page, all in that book, until the alarm of my phone blasted at me to get to the airport NOW.

In a panicked rush, I slid all my camera and power bank equipment on the kitchen counter, and the music sheets on the piano into my backpack. Jetting straight to the door but taking one last look at the apartment before I go, I sigh, “Aigoo~~ I’m usually not this messy. Hopefully, it’s not too much trouble for the housekeeper while I’m away.”

With that, I locked the door, dropped off the spare key to the front desk, and headed to Incheon with every intention not missing my flight.

Hongdae Station, 21:35pm 

Vanessa POV

“Aishhh, pigeonhae~~~ (I’m exhausted)” I uttered, as I rested my heated head on the cool glass window. “Finally got a seat on this packed train.” 

I should probably be sneaking a Korean audiobook or something right now, but after a day I had, I’ll use any spare minute to relax. It’s days like this that I wished my post-graduation life in Seoul was a romantic comedy... not a dramatic Korean drama.

Every night on the commute home from my grueling, housekeeping rounds for South Korea's elite, I find solace in my steampunk, kitty-ear headphones, blasting SS501 songs on my phone.

To my utter annoyance, my headphones are nowhere to be found. 

Just my luck. 

Emptying my suede satchel on my lap, a diary plops out of it and onto the train floor. I pick it up and examine the newfound artifact in my bag: worn, embossed leather, yellowing handmade paper, and customized embroidery of the initials "HYS" on the back cover.

Now, where did this come from?

I gasp, “NO... I’ve been shuffling my stuff around with me since lunch. I must’ve hit half a dozen houses today.”

I bang my head on the train window, cursing myself at how stupid I could be. There’s a client looking for this diary somewhere, and I’m bound to be branded as that “never hire a foreigner to clean your house ever again” stereotype that I’ve tried so hard to erase at first glance.

As I lower my head, fixing my groggy gaze onto my lap, the intricate phoenix emboss on the diary’s front cover tickles my grazing finger tips. The fading book spine begs me for a stroke, like it’s calling me to open it and discover it’s contents.

No, it’d be unethical to read a client’s personal property... but I threw “professional and moral etiquette” out the window when I accidentally packed it away into my bag.

“One look won’t hurt, right?” As soon as turned the diary on its right side, the end of a satin ribbon bookmark popped out with a medieval, silver cross pendent with a chain and mini-cross attached to it. It must’ve been an old earring or something, seeing at the ribbon was just double tied at the end to the cross’s jump ring. 

“Man, whoever owns this diary has gone through a lot in this lifetime,” I say, examining its exterior with archeological precision.

Since the bookmark fell out from its original place, I flipped the journal to its side, found a rounded dent one-fourth of the way of the pages, and started there. Let’s just say... I couldn’t put it down after that.

Young Saeng (Journal) POV

I can't remember a single song, that I've written, that wasn't about you. You were the lyrics to my melody, the treble to my crescendo, the keys to my every note.

"One day when it snowed Who used to hug me warmly I remember the beautiful you The memory of January"

All performances, no matter how great or  well-received, end at some point, but I still linger on that high note, hoping that time would kindly extend itself for you... for us... even if only for one moment.

"Woke up from the dream and called you But I realized you were not beside me any longer"

Music makes our burden light... or at least, this weight that you've left on me behind.

"I wanna go back to you To that day, to that moment For me at least once, at least your soul... The love you left behind"

Hmm...

Note to self:

Type and send this to Steven hyungnim

Call eomma before heading to the airport

Duplicate a spare key at the front desk for the housemaid.

- YS

Vanessa’s POV

From the rest of my subway trip, to the bus and even the short few minutes to walk to my apartment from the main street, the diary’s contents consumed me, overwhelmed with its deep philosophy and streams of thought. It was almost lyrical.

Before I knew it, I was already in my bed. My eyes heavy, but fluttering to stay awake as to not miss a single detail of this beautiful mind on the paper. Just before my body gave in to its exhaustion, I remember one more thought before shutting down: “YS, whoever you are, I hope your life is just as poetic and whimsical as the pages you’ve transcribed in this book.”

A/N: For once, that photo edit is my own. The gifs, Young Saeng and his original IG post? Not yet :P

[pussymagicuniverse]

A Journey in Winter – Walking with Ceridwen and The Cailleach

Crone energy lead me along my magical path before I knew I was walking the path in the first place.

For me, on the surface, this turning to crones seems to be in line with the idea we try to bring what we lack – but need – into our lives from outside sources. Recently I’ve realised how as a child I stayed childlike well into my teens, and even now people mistake me for someone much younger than I am. But all I ever wanted was to grow older and know things. It’s the opposite of Peter Pan and his Lost Boys, and more difficult to achieve (I am nowhere near the all-seeing hag energy I’d love to embody, but I could quite easily be a lost boy if that was my thing). But after a recent trip to Scotland, where I felt one powerful goddess join another from the minute I walked out my front door, I’m starting to believe it’s not impossible.

There are other reasons other than some spiritual anaemia to explain why the universe expressed as older, colder, and darker appeals to me. I know it’s also because my role model as a little witch was my great-grandmother, who died long before I was born, but lived on in the things her son, my nature-respecting grandfather, taught me. It’s because I spent much of my childhood in the company of another set of great-grandparents; they were not witches, but funny and sharp, they both carried the lessons of a life spent working – and at times drinking – hard and shared them with me. And I know deep down I just wanted a mentor – a bit like the endless and immortal Mrs Which, Mrs Whatsit, and Mrs Who from A Wrinkle in Time – who is all-knowing and would guide me in the way I wasn’t being guided in my everyday life. Maybe it’s even because of how much I watched The Golden Girls when I was a child – those retired ladies really knew how to live, right?

Aging, darkness, night, death, and winter have been considered negatives in many places over many historical eras. Some of those things still unsettle people, I know. But for me, the dark is what it is – the complement of light, which itself balances dark. Dark and light are neutral settings – badness can come into our lives with the sun just as easily as it can with the moon. And the dark has a different and equally useful purpose – if light is active and lends itself to movement, the dark is calm, it’s where incubation takes place (of life, or of ideas and contemplations). Aging frightens people because it takes us closer to the inevitable end of our lives. Death frightens us because it’s difficult to know, to understand; it is unpredictable. Winter encompasses and represents all of the above. But all I can see is how much knowledge and experience the years give us, how much time for contemplation and learning there has been once we reach that end.

Even so, sometimes the old-old gods also make mistakes, but the best part about that is how they tell us that’s ok, too. They have the wisdom to see sometimes it doesn’t really matter. My longest working spiritual relationship with a crone goddess is with Ceridwen, forged when I was seventeen, and still going strong. She is the Welsh sorceress famous for her Cauldron of Inspiration; accidental mother of the great bard Taliesin – because she created the potion for her own son, but the plan wasn’t as fool-proof as she’d have liked it to be. The three drops it took to give someone endless insight landed on the thumb of her serving boy, Gwion Bach, instead of being lovingly administered to her ugly son Morfran (or Afagddu). After a chase where Ceridwen and Gwion Bach shapeshifted as a series of animals, the boy ends up in the enchantress’s tummy, to transform into Taliesin. This worked out fine, of course, because the result was the Welsh bardic tradition. And Ceridwen is recognised as a goddess these days – she’s a witch’s witch, the dark moon guardian of poets, creators, and seekers, giving us space for our ideas to grow in the absence of bright overpowering light. She’s given me flashes of insight, strength to stay on the path, never letting me down when I’ve needed her most.

Very recently, after several months of another energy edging in, Ceridwen was joined in these efforts to help a little human writer find their way. I knew it was coming, and at last it fell into place. As I walked down the hill from my house to Sheffield station on a cold pre-dawn in early January, here was another crone. Depicted most often as a blue-skinned old woman, or a giantess, this goddess is rooted more firmly in the earth and the practical by way of her ties to wildlife and winter, and her rock-formation myths, dropping stones from her apron across these islands, from Scotland to Wales to England to Ireland and back to Scotland again. And if there was ever a right time to feel the Cailleach’s presence, it’s in the freezing short days and long nights of winter, when you’re about to hop on a train headed four hours north.

Another truth buried in this contemplation of sagacity (occurring, no doubt, because I’ll be 40 soon) was excavated by the Cailleach: I’ve always valued a no-nonsense approach to most problems, while knowing I’m an intuitive, emotional, airy fairy creature most of the time – the growth for me has been in combining them. The hero in my story when I’m overly stressed is someone who will tell me, hey, it’s alright, you’re upset, but come on now – get back up. Being realistic and sensible can come across as gruff, yes, but it is not the same as being unkind – in fact, it’s a great kindness. There are times when I must be this person for myself, rarer still when I’ve been that person for others (I’m more likely to be the woe-catching ear and the tear-stained shoulder), and there have been times when friends and strangers have been the ones to help me. And there are these occasions when the stern hand reaching down to me is from a more unseen place.

Edinburgh is a city of history and hills, populated by a grand mix of locals and transplants and tourists, and people like me: ‘visitors’ as my friend (an Edinburgh native) described me – someone who lives in the UK, but wandered further north to do research for one of my poetry collections. Many of the Cailleach’s Scottish myths are based in wild, far northern landscapes, but through the steep inclines and the nip in the air she made her presence known in this more lowland, metropolitan place. I had to walk everywhere I needed to go – not a problem if you don’t have a condition that affects all the joints in your legs, more of a problem if you do (spoilers: I do). My anxiety was high because I was traveling alone. There were moments when it would have been easier to give up and stay in my hotel room with a pile of books, but something wouldn’t let me even consider it.

Pure stubbornness and dedication to my work, I suppose – work I continue to pursue under Ceridwen’s watchful eye, Ceridwen who allows me to curl up in her cauldron when things get overwhelming, waiting things out and re-emerging energised. But in Edinburgh there was another force of nature saying: ‘no, she will not stop yet – she will do what she came to do’. Her blue hands at my back, a lift up – the hard-faced but well-meant instruction. I was in the Cailleach’s territory during her season, she’d called me in before I arrived and once I was there, things would be done her way – I managed to push through the anxiety; I swallowed medicine for the pain, rested well when the journey was finished. And when I left, she made sure I carried something of her with me.

Born in Southern Ohio, but settled in the UK since 1999, Kate is a writer, witch, editor and mother of five. She is the author of several poetry pamphlets, and the founding editor of four web journals and a micropress.

Her witchcraft is a blend of her great-grandmother's Appalachian ways and the Anglo-Celtic craft of the country she now calls home – though she incorporates tarot, astrology, and her ancestors, plus music, film, books, and many other things into her practice. Her spiritual life is best described as queer Christopagan with emphasis on the feminine and the natural world. She believes magic is everywhere.

Find Kate on twitter and IG - @mskateybelle - and at her website.

[back-shout]

Seyi

I called Seyi yesterday. For some weird reasons, as if by the spirit, she flashed my mind in the afternoon. And this is unusual. I don't think of her. Even when I see her posts on IG I just scroll past. Seyi was my ex of about 10 years. OK maybe not ex because according to her we never dated. Thinking of it we never did. In my mind though, for those few weeks I thought we were unto something special. A friend was dating her friend and had given me her number. I had called her out of the blue and started a conversation. It probably wouldn't have worked but it happened we attended the same primary school and that formed a connection point. Then she just lost her dad and she was at a vulnerable point. We became friends and I started seeing her. I will leave my school (two ends of town) to hers at least thrice every week. The conversation was good and she enjoyed my company and I probably mistook that for likeness. Well she did say she liked me but didn't give me a straight yes when I asked her out. Then she never visits. She keeps giving excuse she can't leave school. I had to force her to come visit me once. And once I tried to kiss her and met a blank wall. The shocker came when I talked to her about it. "Do you think we are dating? We are just friends", she had said with this tinge of arrogance. I was devastated but managed to hide the shock. The feeling had been one sided all along. I then remembered she didn't even give me a straight yes when I asked her out. Just around that time I met Ann. I never even had any plans for Ann. She even walked up to me to collect my number herself. And we started talking. And she mentioned her bf during one of our regular hey/hi calls. So she was just a friend. But things just happened. She called out of the blue once that she wants to come say hi to me in town. And I said no problem. And she came, we hung out and gisted. Then she kissed me. And didn't want to go back again. And that was it. Ann took Seyi off my mind. It was easy. She was a very lovable person. When Seyi noticed I stopped coming and calling, she called one weekend that she's coming to say hi. This was surprising as she has only been to my place once in the over 5 months or so we've been friends. I told her to come anyway. That Saturday, she came. While we talked, she was busy toying with my phone. Then someone called and she picked it up. She listened for few seconds, then handed the phone to me. By then the call had dropped. As I tried checking who it was, Ann called. Within that fraction of second I wonder if to pick up or not. Seyi and I weren't dating anyway but I didn't want her to feel somehow. Not picking Ann's call would be suspicious as well. I did what any sane guy would do, I picked. "I said just called to say I love and you didn't say anything", Ann said from the other end. The look on Seyi's face answered it all. She had picked when Anna called earlier. "I love you too dear", I replied without thinking twice. And that was it. Seyi and I never talked about it but it was the unspoken final straw. It was now official there was nothing between us. Things kinda fell apart from there to just hey/hi. And it remained like that since. When I settle in Lagos last year we talked. Hearing I was now in Lagos she said I must come visit her in her new place and she would cook something special for me. But I didn't go. I kept giving her excuses. Finally I invited her over instead as a way to escape doing the visiting. She came. It was good seeing her again. As she entered my room, she jumped on the bed and rested fully. I pulled my work chair from a side of the room and sat on it. Then we talked and started a movie. Way in, she slid her bra off from a side of her sleeves. I pretend not to notice. Then she invited me to come to the bed. I did. She took my hand and started drawing lines on my palm. I pretended to be naive. Then there was power outage. The TV and AC went off. That was my cue. I got up and invited her to the living room "because of heat'. We talked more then she left. We chatted briefly for a couple more days then she sent a text about if I won't mind if she comes to spend the night. I read it shook my head and didn't reply. For the next couple of weeks I stopped picking her calls or responding to her chat and sms. That escalated real fast and got her worried. I eventually had to send a text apologizing and giving a stupid excuse. As I scrolled through her IG yesterday, I saw a post saying she needs prayers. Then I remembered she had crossed my mind as well. So I called her. She was happy to hear from me. She said she wasn't even picking calla but picked because it was me. And we talked for long. She was feeling depressed because of a lot of things. But we talked about them. And I was able to make her feel better. Shortly before she dropped, she apologized for what happened. "Sorry I was too pushy that other time. I just felt carried away as weve been like friends for like forever. I knew you mentioned you were in a serious relationship and all that and it's unfair of me" I apologized as well just to make her feel better. "I'm sorry I stopped talking to you too. You were vulnerable and I didn't want to take advantage of you. The best thing I thought I could do was to stop the conversation" That gave her a relief I could feel from my end. More importantly I was happy I could bring a smile to her face.