#still before midnight for the east coast too

[britcision]

In honour of a combo Wednesday and then post-midnight Yule, have a WIP Wednesday friends! We haven’t seen Sam for a while and Hanukkah was early this year (finished on the 15) but we are here now!

This chapter’s already gotten intense as hell for Danny and Jason with Lady Gotham but we’ve been tragically without our resident fashionable goth (sorry not sorry Bruce) and we are definitely still a muppet movie, so enjoy Sam-Miss-Piggy creating some extra chaos behind the scenes 👀

No promises about how regular these updates will be because again, plot chapter, I like letting those drop without spoiling the reveals too much, but we shall see

——————

Chapter 18 part i So That Just Happened

Back in her own room on the other side of the country from Gotham, Sam Manson reclined back into giant, coffin shaped body pillow her beloved girlfriend had given her when they moved and contemplated her phone.

The brand new Wayne-chat was blowing up satisfactorily, although apparently Tim was a massive stalker too. That was probably a good thing; it meant she hadn’t actually nuked Tuck’s chances with his nerd-crush. Now they could bond over their mutual stalker tendencies.

But, did that make her revenge less effective?

It wasn’t like she was actually out to ruin his life, but she’d kinda like to leave a mark. Something that would make him think twice about letting her think he and Danny had fucking died in Gotham in her absence.

Or. Well. Gone radio silent in Gotham, which was probably actually worse because if they were dead she’d know exactly where they were.

The Wayne chat were all pretty sure Tim and Tucker were together too, and Sam’s new best friend Babs had even pulled up the feed from their living room tv somehow. Sam wasn’t exactly the tech wizard Tucker was, but… after seeing that, she disconnected her and Val’s TV from the wifi.

And settled in to remote watch Tuck get his ass kicked at Spiderheck, apparently. At least for a little while; until something else on her phone caught her attention.

It was… almost funny. While she knew she was a whole two timezones away, she’d never really felt left out before. Like maybe she should have stayed on the east coast…

Not that she regretted it, of course. She had a good job, a good school, a wonderful girlfriend who’d been so excited to get into a good school and really go to town on the business department.

(Apparently there were posters of Val’s face in the ethics classrooms. Sam refused to ask if they were golden example or dire warning.)

She was just… a long way away. Even a long portal away, and… being back with the guys, even in Gotham, made the quiet of their comfy little apartment seem lonely.

Huffing, she turned and traced her fingers through the leaves of her mimosa plant on the windowsill beside the bed. They curled gently shut at her touch, and made her smile. Just like always.

She was happy to be home. She wasn’t technically liminal enough yet that it was her haunt, but… well, for all the jokes Val made, Sam had to admit she’d put down roots. She loved her job at the greenhouses, and her internship at the botanical gardens.

She loved scaring the hell out of the dudebros in Val’s business classes who thought ethics were a waste of time. She loved sharing messages with Jazz about the boys, laughing that even three hours ahead, Tuck and Danny still couldn’t get up before them.

She was kinda considering texting Harley about Timblr too. Not like, for any particular reason; if Tim’s family weren’t gonna embarrass Tucker enough, Harley probably wouldn’t either. She’d probably think it was adorable.

Or, y’know, worrying evidence of obsession. Psych types worried about stuff like that, usually.

Sam was kinda also considering sending Harley Jazz’s number. Jazz might still be skating just on the neurosurgery side of the line, but she’d always been big into psychology. Big enough to try and double major, and only drop to major-minor after the third pre-exam meltdown.

And she could use having someone else do the shrink bit on her a little more often. Although really, for that Sam should make her a professional appointment; friends didn’t ask friends to psychoanalyze their overprotective pseudo-sisters. And Jazz could use more friends.

Jazz could use a transfer to a specialty that would let her sleep once in a while, a more stable supply of fresh ecto, and about six weeks in a meditation retreat to get the accidental telepathy under control, but more friends would be good too. And less stubborn insistence on her second try for double majors.

Maybe the switch to psychiatry full time would be good for her? Or psychology. Sam was a little fuzzy on the difference, which one Jazz was minoring in, and which one Harley did.

(Jazz’s current second major was neurosurgery, which Jazz insisted was totally less taxing alongside a neurology major because it was the same body part. She was the only person in her class attempting the double major though, so.)

Humming tunelessly to herself, Sam flicked back into the group chat. Babs was still sharing the feed… brows drawing in, Sam frowned at the little spider figures still fighting to the death. Now, she wasn’t as big of a gamer as she used to be, but she was pretty sure Spiderheck didn’t actually offer red berets.

Snorting a laugh, she flicked back out of the chat and opened a new one, adding both Jazz and Harley. All it needed was the perfect name… something that would grab both of their attention.

Obvious. Child’s play.

Snuggling back into her coffin pillow, Sam grinned down at her phone screen.

Danny Has A Boyfriend chat was live.

——————

And in at the last minute, Jazz! We’ll see if she shows up in person this chapter, I’m hoping it’ll be the last big lore dump before the first plot arc begins but We Shall See…

Chapter 20 is right around the corner though, and I like my divisibles of 5 so I miiiiight shoot for that Red Hood Reveal then… 👀

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

[dispatchvampire]

Radio Free Bucky - Bucky x Fem!OC

Pairing: Bucky x OC (in progress)

Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, casual swearing, smut in later chapters

Series Summary: A bunch of interrelated  of fluffy ficlets about Bucky and Penelope. Strangers in the night, tenuously connected by the past, finding their way together a little at a time.

Chapter Summary: In which Bucky has a birthday and someone unexpected knows about it.

It was his birthday, but he’d kept the proceedings low key. Dinner with Sam and his family, some cake, before retiring to the fixer-upper he’d bought not far from their family homestead so he had a place to stay in Delacroix  that wasn’t the front room couch when he came down. That’s really all he had the mental and emotional space for these days.

The soft patter of rain on the roof and windows droned in the background as he worked on the birdhouse Sarah had asked him to. Sam’s sister was a sweetheart, very unlike her brother, and he had no problem giving in to any and all requests from her and her boys. They did love them some Uncle Bucky. 

A memory of a warm summer afternoon on the bayou made him smile as Chet Baker’s smooth voice crooned about falling in love too easily, just a shade louder than the downpour. As much as Sam gave him shit for it, Bucky liked what he liked, and he wasn’t ashamed. It was good music. 

He’d found this satellite radio station one day online, looking for god knows what now, but it had been a revelation. A whole channel devoted to 40’s music, and it was like the universe was giving him a bit of comfort after kicking the hell out of him for so long. 

The soulful trumpet at the end of the song faded into the gathering shadows in his workshop.

“That was Chet Baker on vocals and trumpet there, and I think that might be my favorite song of his. It’s ten past eight here on the east coast, and this is 40s Junction.” 

Just hearing her voice made Bucky smile. It was warm, knowing, with a spark of humor that made him wonder if her actual smile was as nice as what he pictured in his head. And, to be fair, he’d pictured her a bit.  

This woman, the only female DJ at the station near as he could tell, was a nightly companion as he worked on his projects and unwound at the end of the day. Hearing tiny snippets of her life, and how joyfully she related to the music that was clearly way too old to be current for her, made him feel a little less alone in the world. It was an unusual feeling and he’d started to enjoy it. 

“Now, I know I promised you all I’d get to some Ella Fitzgerald this hour, but…” she trailed off and he turned his head to look at his phone like he expected to see her there, with a mischievous grin. “I wanted to take a moment to share something with you all. Today’s a special day in my family. It’s a tradition my Pawpaw started way back in 1945.

“I’m sure you all have guessed by now that he’s the reason I’m here with you, five nights a week from four to midnight. He was my best friend growing up and I miss him terribly. 

He served in the Army in Italy, with the 107th Infantry Regiment.” Bucky carefully set his work aside as his fingers went numb. 

“You history buffs probably recognize the unit, but for those that don't, that’s Captain America’s outfit, and my grandfather was Gabe Jones, one of the original Howling Commandos. 

“Today is March 10th, the birthday of one of my Pawpaw’s fallen comrades in arms, Bucky Barnes. For years, on this day, he’d raise a glass and tell us about the man who saved his life more than once. A man who gave him a reason to go on, to keep fighting, even when all seemed hopeless. Whose death marked his young life indelibly. You get the picture. 

“He’d raise a glass and ask us to remember the fallen and their families, and to help those still around us carry on. After the Blip, I’m sure a lot of us can relate to those sentiments.” Her sigh held paragraphs he didn’t need a translation for. 

“Anyway, long story short, it feels weird to say that Bucky isn’t dead, as Pawpaw informed us, but I’m celebrating his day just the same. I’d like to think he’s having a good 107th birthday, out there, somewhere. 

“As for me, I raise a glass to him, and all the boys who served.” She paused and he could faintly make out the sounds of ice cubes hitting glass. “And with an extra sip for those who didn’t make it home. Happy Birthday, Sergeant Barnes, wherever you are. Now, here’s Ella, serving up some Black Coffee.” 

Bucky’s gasp when the music kicked back in told him that at some point he’d lost air, and even though he was breaking currently, the lump in his throat was throttling him slowly. Of all the things… so many thoughts in his head, fragments of memories, imaginings. Abandoning his workbench entirely, he shuffled across the room to toss himself down onto the couch in the now mostly-dark. 

He could see Gabe’s face in his mind like it was yesterday. Easy smile, quick wit, brilliant mind. Gabriel Jones had been a good man, and it warmed Bucky’s heart to know he’d gone on to come home, have a family, and that he kept the joy in his life. 

The tender affection in her voice when she spoke of her grandfather said more than any words could ever. That was the true measure of a man, the love of those left behind.

There was a voice in his head, one that sounded annoyingly like Dr. Rainor’s, whispering that he was well-remembered by those he’d left behind too, and that meant something. To them, to the world. It was a voice quickly snuffed out by the knowledge that while that may have been true at the time, a whole encyclopedia of lifetimes had transpired between then and now, and his worthiness of that sentiment, no matter how well-intended, well… it was more worn than not. 

Still, it warmed his heart a little to know that he was thought of fondly, and by his DJ-crush of all people, even if it was a strange coincidence. How could it not? He may have still been getting used to this time, but having that moment, that connection no matter how brief, felt like a much-needed hug in a world that has offered him precious little in the way of comfort. 

For a second, he could just close his eyes in the gathering darkness and let the music and rain rhythm wash over him, like a baptism of time, washing him clean once more. For a second, he could just… be. And it was enough

[charlesandmartine]

Sunday 24th November 2024

It was a gorgeous start to the day. Sunrise was around 5.40, and the sun took over right from the very start as it dominated the clear blue skies. The parakeets, cockatoos, and butcher bird resumed their squawking and returned from the direction to which they went at sunset. Their concophony sounding very much like car tyres squealing around a racetrack, persisting in bursts of several minutes, its decrescendo dying to a steady conversational mutter and then as though on mass they remember something they meant to say, it all starts up again. Dawn is such a fascinating time of day here, wherever you are in this fantastic country. The birdsong is unbelievable.

We set off after breakfast for the lake. This was to be a bit of a sortout day, because tomorrow we make a four and a half hour dash to the coast at Townsville where upon we check in the Ford to Europcar and pick up a smaller SUV from Mr Avis. It looks like there's going to be a bit of a penalty to pay on the mileage we've covered. We are over budget by a bit of a margin!

Before our lakeside visit, we travelled to the edge of town on Flinders to take a look at the local cemetery. Gloomy subject but interesting. Rumour has it that the original cemetery was across the road from where it is now and had been moved in the late 1800s. Apparently, there are no council records to confirm, although, from memory, the council offices had burned down at some stage, no doubt destroying said info. To add a little intrigue, there's one remaining grave in the old position. It is of a Jewish 22 year old lady, Jeanette Tolano, who died giving birth in 1883. Interestingly, that is Jewish year 5644. It is said that the solitary grave was not moved due to religious reasons. People were dying to get to the new cemetery by the mid-1880s and it is still in use today. There were 2 graves that stole my attention and were of accidental killing. George Galton was a fireman on the down 11 train travelling from Hughenden to Richmond when near midnight on 1st December 1938, there was a head-on collision with a light train and van in what was to become known as the Moselle Railway Collision. The inquest notes say there was no evidence of alcohol and the signals were working correctly, according to a witness. Very sad events, the three dead were both drivers and George, our fireman. These are the problems associated with single track and why tokens were introduced in the UK. So, after cheering ourselves thus, we set off for the lake. Man made, the lake was built in 2018, funded mainly by the Australian Government Building Better Regions scheme, and covers 59 acres. Clearly, this is still a new venture, but they have created a terrific amenity, and the naturalisation process is well under way with fish, wildlife, and birds abundant. We walked its perimeter, amused by a boat owner who bothered to load his craft onto a body of water, which is not, after all, Lake Windermere!

A brief respite back in the house, cleaning the Ford and doing some sorting for an early push to Townsville. Then, back to the lake, enveloped in warmth to watch the sun go down and enjoy this wonderful experience with a glass of Coopers Pale Ale and nibbles. Perfect, why can't we do this st home! Then we found ourselves talking to a young couple who had just got engaged and were planning their honeymoon for 2026 in Scotland. Congratulations all round.

We have liked Hughenden, but I wouldn't say it's been the best outback town we've stayed in. Sadly, as we approach Townsville, we shall officially leave the Outback in favour of the more civilised but perhaps more predictable East Coast. Everyone is warning us that we will be leaving the temperatures behind in favour of the more temperate coastal areas. Perhaps more people, too?

ps. As we have travelled through Northern Territories and now Queensland, we have had problems buying alcohol because of the strict rules limiting licensing hours and ID. Then we found certain everyday items are locked away in supermarkets. Deodorants are restricted because people get high by sniffing them, which I thought was their purpose!!

pps. Later, we watched 'Last Cab to Darwin' on Netflix. It's a slit your wrists film about a terminally ill taxi driver who is offered assisted dying. The thing is, apart from the main theme, he is driving through all the places we have just been.

[witchofthesouls]

Team Prime learns (and maybe meets) some cryptids/urban legends

(Heads up, the last one includes death. It starts with "A wolf sits at the side of the...")

The less Ratchet thinks about the rude, little shit of a jackalope, the better off he is. It dented the side of his alt-mode, gouging deep as it insulted his intelligence when he pulled off the road.

To be fair, it's even smaller than a typical human and highly drunk as it slurred a warning about "idiot tourists staying after the sun sets" and "stupid big folk" and "Great Hunting."

It doesn't help that no one else believes him. Oh, sure: ghostly apparitions are fine, but a talking, big-antlered rabbit isn't?

The kids would roll their eyes and think he's trying too hard.

Optimus enjoys people-watching. He enjoys being part of the crowd. None distinguishable from the rest of the men when he uses his holomatter. There’s an old man that’s always at the bar. Hair long since grey, skin full of liver spots and translucent, back stooped, and yet he can out-drink everyone in the vicinity. His body is old and creaky, but his mind is still sharp, his tongue silver, and his hands fast on a fiddle.

Jack is his name. He’s well-acquainted with Optimus, who goes by Leo Cullen, as they struck up an odd friendship at the bar counter. Both are familiar with surviving in the true wild lands, with getting out of sticky situations and too-powerful authority figures, and ruminating on Gone Things.

Old Man Jack with his quick tongue and tired eyes carries a lantern carved from a turnip, and whenever the man and holomatter walk out together, Jack lights it up before his feet touch the ground outside.

Eventually, Optimus will be able to see how the shadows play with its light, the swirling color and shifting patterns on the turnip’s face, and Jack asks him:

“Did you make a piss-poor deal with the devil, too?”

On the outskirts of Jasper at the abandoned roads, there’s a different kind of race for a different breed of thrill-seekers, adrenaline junkies, and lost souls.

When the wind blows right and the night is dark, people race against the coyotes of dust and sand. With eerie eyes and haunting voices, they group together to form sandstorms as they chase after tires and wipe away the roads.

To the winners, howls will crown their victory as Jasper is right in their line of sight. To the losers, a storm will sweep over the area and wash all traces of the racer. Howls will welcome the newest member of the pack.

Arcee goes out there without anyone else and races. The sand scrapes over her plates, ghostly jaws snap over her tires, and her spark thrums wild as she cannot see anything in front, nor behind her, as the storm swallows her whole. 

She wins. She manages to overcome them and they howl at her victory.

Neither of them spoke of it, but when Bulkhead and Cliffjumper raced on an empty stretch of East coast highway under icy conditions, they saw a battle raging in the sea.

A massive serpentine shape with shades of onyx and midnight blues is wrapped around an equally massive squid-like form. Tentacles thrash, deadly hooks swirl within its suckers as it tries to puncture the serpent’s scales, and waves crash upon the rocky beach, the seawater rising high to meet the road. They see the foamy water pulling back and turning, turning, turning-

And then the serpent unhinges its jaw, wide enough to take a chunk out of the Ark, serrated and swordlike teeth gleam wickedly in the distance, and it sinks into the fat head and twists-

 The squid turns a ghastly white and the water calms as the victor and its prey disappear into deeper waters, the sea rippling and distorting before evening out.

“This planet has giant Quintessons.” This planet has a bigger critter that eats the giant Quintesson.” “Primus save us…”

A wolf sits at the side of the road. It’s the same wolf at the same point of the road, all the time, rain and shine. Bumblebee pulls over during his free time, and he notices it bleeding from its mouth and collar on its neck before it darts into the woods behind it.

Bumblebee doesn’t go after it because his comm rings and it’s Decepticon activity. He leaves and feels its heavy gaze upon his bumper.

The next time he stops, it’s still bleeding from its mouth and it moves to the tree line. It stops and looks back, beckoning him and Bumblebee follows.

The terrain is rough and there’s no set pavement, but he can handle it. It moves like the wind, speeding fast as it darts and weaves between trees.

If Bumblebee wasn’t a Cybertronian and so intuitively in control of his alt-mode, he would have run over the wolf that now lies on its belly on the ground.

His holomatter approaches slowly and it paws the ground, whining, pushing away the dead leaves and muck. 

Bumblebee digs deep and finds a familiar collar, he also finds bones and patches of faded cloth scraps.

He keeps tabs on the location’s local news when it finally breaks: an old couple gets their closure on their son and the family’s wolfdog that went missing decades ago. Fingers, adult ones, were stuck in the wolfdog's throat.

[appeal-ff]

[APPEAL-2]: Chapter 2// Issa Date

CADE

"I don't have time for this shit," I grumbled as I walked into rented office space, downtown L.A. It was almost 10pm on a Sunday night and all I wanted to do was crawl back into my big ass bed.

"Finally! The champ is here!" That was Trell's loud mouth ass. I only smacked my lips before giving dabs to a few of the late night workers. I watched as Trell inhaled smoke from the fat blunt before passing it my way.

Fuck it, I'm already here.

I took a long pull before passing it back to him.

"What was the big emergency, my nigga?" I asked once all of the smoke cleared from my vision.

"Bodies dropping, my nigga... that's the big emergency." My face contorted as I looked at some of the workers for confirmation. They nodded in agreeance before letting out deep sighs.

I met Trell in the corner office and took a seat beside him on the black couch.

"What--"

"Two of our young niggaz got got. One on 98th Street and the other on 53rd Road." He shook his head after he was finished speaking. Confusion was the only emotion on my face as I tried to make sense of what the fuck he just relayed to me.

"How in the fuck are our people dropping if they're supposed to be strapped?!" I suddenly boomed as I jumped up from my seat on the couch.

"Calm down nigga. This is exactly why I told your behind the scenes ass that we need to have our men double up. I knew some shit was brewing. I felt it in my knee." I didn't want to laugh, but when he patted his right knee I allowed the chuckles to seep through.

"This ain't no laughing matter, C-man. We gotta send packages to the young homies families. Shit ain't gonna bring em back, but they families still gotta eat. I think one of the niggaz got a kid, too." My jaw clenched after hearing that. A lof of the niggaz working our corners had kids, and that shit hit a lil closer for me.

"Aight man, give they families whatever they need. Do we at least know which crew is coming at us?" I was seated beside him again as I searched his ugly ass face for answers.

"Word on road is there's some East coast nigga in town named 'H'. What type of bullshit ass name is that?" He shook his head while I chuckled lowly. "None of these other crews would dare come after us. They respected Cole too much to fuck with his operation. He fed a lot of those niggaz when we had too much product on our hand to move." I nodded in agreeance. It's only been two years since Cole was killed, but niggaz could have came after us then.

Was an out town nigga really plucking our men off?

-----------------------

It was Monday morning and I was parked outside of Sonya's luxury apartment building, just waiting for her and Amir to come downstairs. I was tired as shit since I didn't get in until after midnight, and had to be up less than six hours later to get myself ready.

It didn't matter how tired I was-- I was not missing my lil man's first day of pre-K.

I quickly tossed my phone into the cup holder once I seen Amir running up to my truck.

"Daddy! Look, I got shoes like you!" I chuckled as I watched him place his baby foot next to mine. He was wearing the black Balenciaga sneakers that I got him a few days ago, when I went shopping with him and his mom.

I just so happened to be wearing my black Balenciaga sneakers as well-- though mine were paired with some 'KITH' sweatpants, and Amir rocked black jeans and a simple Prada t-shirt. My twin was swagged the fuck out, ya hear me?

"Hi, beautiful, how are you?" I tried to kiss her cheek but she swerved my shit before quickly walked over to the passenger side of the car. I groaned before picking up a clueless Amir, and strapping him into the car seat in the middle of the car.

"What's the issue now, Sonya? Damn, I swear it's everyday with you." I easily pulled out onto the street and began the familiar trip to Mcdonalds. I was starving, and my lil man needed food in his system for his first day. If Sonya lost the sour attitude then maybe I'd get her a hashbrown.

"It's funny how you claim you want to be with me, and be a family with me and your son. But when I invite you over, you leave my shit on read? You're hella weird."

"Sonya, please--"

"No, Cade, let me cook. You're always preaching this togetherness shit but you really don't want to be together. You just want to fuck on me every three business days."

I waited until I pulled behind the car in the Mcdonalds drive thru before finally placing my vision on her. "Stop cursing in front of Amir, I'm tired of telling you that."

She opened her mouth to respond but I beat her to it. "I was caught up at the office last night, aight? Two kids that work for me got off'd, and I--"

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry Cade." She now wore this pout on her face as she laid her head against the passenger window. "How are you taking it?"

"I'm aight, Son Bon. One of them had a kid, though, so that part was messing with me. We making sure is family taken care of though. All while tryna figure out who is coming for us."

"Please be safe, Cade... you and Trell. I wish you would just walk away from that dark ass life." I rolled my eyes before turning front and applying gas to the car. It was now my time to order.

I ordered Sonya and my meal immediately, as our order was identical and has not changed in the last four years. I decided on the kiddie pancake platter for Amir, and then we were on the way to the daycare.

SONYA

Cade was shaking his head as I wiped the million and one tears that fell from my eyes. "Come on, Sonya, you do this shit every year." He tugged on my elbow as an attempt to get me from my cemented position in the daycare's hallway.

Amir disappeared into his class a few minutes ago but it's like I could not move from my stance. "It's not funny, Cade! That's my only baby." I began tearing up again as I stared aimlessly down the hallway. My fair-skin babyfather was in stiches as he leaned up against a bulletin board.

I finally gathered myself before walking past his insensitive ass.

"What you about to do? You want me to drop you home or--"

"I actually need to head with you to the office. Amber and I have a spa date, and she's already at the office with Trell." Ignoring the 'I beg your pardon?' ass look he was sending me, I walked over to the passenger side of the car and waited for him to unlock the doors.

It wasn't until I strapped my seatbelt across my chest when I realized he was still muggin my shit. As if I owed him rent money or some shit. "Yes, Cade?" I huffed. My emotions were all over the place from leaving my baby at the daycare, so he needed to not fuck with me this morning.

"You know I don't like you down at the office., Sonya. Why can't Amber just meet you at the spa? Where the spa at? I'll drop you."

"Cade, no, Amber is already waiting for me at the office and--"

"And do I give a fuck?"

I pinched the shit out of his arm and smiled in accomplishment at the sound of his bitch ass groans. "Watch ya mouth, Cade and let's go."

xxx

I was seated in Cade's office as I waited for Amber to finish speaking with Trell. The two offices here were made of glass, so I was literally looking across the room at Trell's office as he and Amber discussed God knows what.

I could feel Cade's eyes on me.

Strange, because his laptop was open and he was typing, yet he could still stare into my soul.

"I wanna take you out tonight. See if Shazelly can watch Amir and tell her I'll bless her cashapp." He chuckled, while I found nothing funny at all. Cade did this thing where he swore he was the only nigga in my life, and I had nothing better to do than go out with him whenever he decided to take me out.

"Cant, I'm busy." That was a lie, but I didn't care. I needed to put some boundaries between Mr. Cade and I. There clearly weren't any, and I was to fault for that as well. All of those late night sex link-ups really muddied this co-parenting thing that we were doing.

"You're not busy, Sonya," he paused his typing to laugh out loud. I ignored his laughter and only checked my email on my phone. Although I was currently a stay at home mom, and have been one since Amir's birth... I was considering going back to school.

I'm not sure if nursing is the route I still want to take, but I will be meeting with some college counselors to discuss my future.

"Hello, earth to baddie Sonya."

"What happen?" I locked my phone after not seeing a response email from any of the counselors I emailed a few days ago.

"I said I'm taking you to Nobu-- I know you love it there and you want their yellowtail in your mouth, bad." I crossed my legs once I seen him lick over his rosy lips.

You see what I mean by lack of boundaries?

Somehow I agreed to this 'date', and now had to check my younger sister's availability to babysit-- as well as add shopping onto my errands list today.

"Fine, but you're picking up Amir from school. I have to find a dress and--"

"That ain't no problem. He gets out at 2, right?" I nodded as I quickly sent out the message to Shazelly. She responded rather quickly and told me to bring her nephew whenever, she would be at her apartment all day.

Sitter secured.

Next would be the dress.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/13/2023

very games-centric week

listening

this opening bit samples bowie's life on mars and sounds like a piano cover of a half-remembered but still beloved childhood anime. like the kind you had a set of two VHS clamshells for but only episodes 4-6 and 10-12. it goes on the "lofi beats to data and entry to" playlist. spotify

-

reading

fallow week

-

watching

the folks at waypoint games, formerly vice's leftist games vertical, BOUGHT THE BRAND FROM VICE and are rebranding as remap. i wish them all the fuckin best and i hope they succeed but i feel like we have maybe six months of this before one of them goes literally bankrupt from a doctor's visit bc healthcare is such a fuckin nightmare in this country. im simply not excited for starfield. i am not interested in corporate nasa

anyway i enjoyed their commentary, excited for compulsion games' southern gothic action/adventure spellcaster South of Midnight

neutrally optimistic about obsidian's Avowed, bc i do love obsidian but i do not love sword and sorcery rpgs

there's airships in microsoft flight simulator so i may genuinely buy one month of gamepass to try that out

capcom's path of the goddess looks fucking gorgeous but i have never played more than half an hour of a capcom game and i expect i never will. is this topdown? is this isometric? what the fuck is the gameplay mode??? who could FUCKING say

also there's a new jersey fallout 76 expansion coming at some point. in real life i hate atlantic city and i don't really how know this will look or play differently from point lookout. i don't know if i want to play a much-reviled cash cow mmorpg just to get postapoc jersey lore. if this leads up to 5 being set in nyc im going to be real pissed off. go somewhere DIFFERENT. there are DIFFERENT PLACES on the east coast!!! blease

-

playing

viddy game can consistently turn my brain off enough that i forget im moving cross country in two weeks and can forcibly relax my body for twenty mintues at a time between packing boxes. so there's been a lot of pomodoro-ing, or my version which is: pack until i get so anxious i physically cannot pack anymore, go have a snack, go play twenty minutes of a video game, and then go pack until i am on the verge of a panic attack again. this is not healthy but all my books are packed. all of these were free on epic at some point btw which is why i own them

the first time i played Airborne Kingdom, i lost track of time and beat it in one sitting in eight hours. the second time i played Airship Kingdom, i replicated that exact experience. i have allied with all the kingdoms and have like two hundred souls on board but am not QUITE selfsufficient enough to take on the northern/artic sea DLC. stay tuned. soundtrack in this thing is great.

bounced VERY hard off Close to the Sun, a bioshock-lite i put about four hours/three levels into. a huge gilded age cruise ship where the science has Gone Wrong would normally be catnip to me, but the game did brutally kill the player character's sister in front of me in an unskippable cutscene so we're done with that game now THANK YOU. it is very slow, which i do like in a game that gives you this much stuff to look at, but there is no gamma control. this game is so fucking dark. i played it in a dark room with no lights and it was still too dark.

pinged off the typing exploration game Epistory despite its charming art, bc fast and accurate typing is something covid has taken from me.

rediscovered Carcassone (online) which is great bc i love Carcassone and own a physical copy of the board game but no one else in my life loves it. tile-building countryside-building game, seconds to learn, etc. thank you board game review even though there are no meeple in their natural habitat (the board) in this picture

-

making

it's gonna be putting things into boxes for the forseeable future (the next week) and then living out of them for a while (the next two weeks after that)

[kjack89]

If you're still taking Spotify requests: E/R for which ever song is your favorite that ISNT a repeat from last year. (Or Taylor Swift. My coworker has been over playing Midnights in the office and I'm so sick of it atm.)

Oh man, this was a hard song to pick, because I love so many songs on this playlist (obviously, or they wouldn't be in my top 100!). In the end, I went with the song that I have loved the longest, the one that I used to ask my father to play whenever he drove, like, 4-year-old me anywhere because the album this was on was one of the cassette tapes he had in his car.

Well, it was this album or Enya, and sadly Orinoco Flow didn't make my top 100 for some reason.

87. "The Ballad of Billy the Kid" by Billy Joel

It's a Western AU. Because why the hell not at this point.

The night was quiet and peaceful, its stillness broken only by the gentle crackle of the dying fire and the ubiquitous chirp of crickets, but Enjolras couldn’t seem to enjoy it, his own ears still ringing with the sounds of chaos from earlier.

As a general rule, Enjolras didn’t like robbing trains. Too high a possibility of innocent people being hurt or recognizing one of Les Amis, defeating the purpose of how they handled their robberies, and besides, word of mouth spread faster when robbing banks.

But when Combeferre got reliable word that the Corinthe, headed from back east out to the west coast, was carrying a stash of money belonging to none other than F. H. Tholomyès himself, one of the wealthiest and most exploitative robber barons the West had ever seen, Enjolras knew that not even he could pass up this opportunity.

Which was how Les Amis had found themselves that morning perched along the train tracks, guns and horses at the ready. As they waited for the train to round the bend in the tracks, Enjolras could not help but share a few words, knowing they would never have another opportunity like this one. “Gentlemen,” he started, sweeping his hat off his head to catch their attention, “where are we going?”

To his right, crouched behind a rocky outcropping, Courfeyrac muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “For Christ’s sake,” but Enjolras ignored him, instead glancing around at their compatriots.

Joly sheepishly raised a hand. “Are we going to the train?” he asked, barely managing to hide his smile as Grantaire and Bossuet sniggered on either side.

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed, and Joly’s smile disappeared. “Yes,” Enjolras said, with a bite of impatience. “We’re going to the train just as we are going to the future. And what we do here today is in service of all people. Gentlemen, we are no mere robbers—”

“We do not steal for riches,” Bahorel recited in what was clearly meant to be an undertone but carried a little too well.

“We do not steal for glory,” Feuilly added, a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth as Prouvaire chimed in, with the cadence of an orator, “Thievery, I hate you, but I make use of you—”

“—For by stealing this money, so too do we steal our future from those who would keep it from us,” Bahorel, Feuilly and Prouvaire finished in unison, and Enjolras glowered at them.

Grantaire cleared his throat. “Maybe if you didn’t use the same speech at the start of every robbery—” he started, but Enjolras ignored him, barreling stubbornly onward.

“We are advancing the unity of man,” he said through gritted teeth. “The common man out from under the thumb of the rich, that is the goal. And whatever happens here today, through our failure or through our success, we are creating an alternative to those who think there’s no other way to live.”

He glanced at Combeferre on his left, who also looked a little like he was trying not to smile, and Enjolras scowled. He was saved from saying anything by the train finally rounding the tracks, and instead jammed his hat on his head before he raised his voice to shout, “Courage, and onward!”

From there, things had devolved into the usual controlled chaos that was the undercurrent of every robbery they had ever done, all leading to this moment camped out by the fire, their afternoon’s takings – even more than Enjolras had hoped – in a series of nondescript bags to be tied to a horse’s saddle. 

As much as Enjolras disliked robbing trains, he disliked the aftermath of a robbery even more. He could never find a way to calm himself after the excitement, always ready to move onto the next. He reckoned it was part of what made him so successful, even if it meant always feeling a little like an outsider as his friends traded jokes and stories around the campfire as he brooded on their next plan.

Still, there was nothing else for it, and with a sigh, he sat upright, grabbing his hat from on top of his saddle and placing it on his head before standing. He bent to pick up the saddle, carrying it over to his horse, Mabeuf, who was drowsily grazing where he was picketed. “Sorry for the early morning, boy,” he murmured, rubbing the horse’s neck before lifting the saddle onto his back.

A similar movement caught the corner of his eye and he immediately turned, his hand automatically falling to the pistol at his hip. He relaxed when he saw it was just Grantaire tending to his own horse.

The relaxation was short-lived, seeing as how Grantaire had never been an early riser and had managed to drink enough whiskey to drown a lesser man, and Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “What’re you doing?”

Grantaire didn’t even glance over at him, adjusting the saddle with a practiced eye. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

Enjolras scowled. “Looks like you’re packing up.”

Now Grantaire did look over at him, a small smile creasing his face. “I always knew you were more than a pretty face.”

Enjolras crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why are you packing up?” he asked, ignoring Mabeuf nudging his shoulder in search of an apple or sugar cube.

Grantaire shrugged. “Because I’m going.”

“Going where?” Enjolras ground out. No one managed to irritate him quite like Grantaire did.

Grantaire shrugged again, squinting out at the horizon where the first hint of light was just beginning to break. “Well, now, that’s a good question,” he said easily. “Not sure yet.”

Enjolras sighed. “You know you can’t come with me.”

“I do,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras scowled. “You know why we do it like this.”

“Hasn’t changed.”

“Grantaire.” They’d had this argument so many times before that Enjolras really only needed to say Grantaire’s name in that tone for them to both know exactly how this would play out, just as it had every time before. It was as familiar to them as the sun rising over the plains, and almost as comforting in a strange way, as if a mission wasn’t complete without its familiar cadence.

Which was why Enjolras kept his tone calm but firm in the explanation he’d given a hundred times before. “I’m the one who has to go,” he told Grantaire. “We do the job, I split off with the money and distribute it to where it needs to go. That way, I draw all the attention to myself, and let you all get away. No one ever suspects you. You can’t be implicated.”

They hadn’t always done it this way, but after the first posse got together to track them down, Enjolras had insisted on the change, had insisted that everyone else cover their faces so that the only one anyone ever got a good look at was him.

There was a reason Les Amis wasn’t well known throughout the West, and it wasn’t because they weren’t damn good at what they did – it’s because to every sheriff from the Mississippi to the Rio Grande, they were known as Apollo the Kid and his Gang.

He didn’t need to remind Grantaire of that, though – Grantaire knew. Even in the dim light of the dying fire, Enjolras could see a muscle working in Grantaire’s cheek. “That is indeed the plan.”

Enjolras suddenly found he couldn’t quite meet Grantaire’s eye, and so busied himself with Mabeuf’s bridle. “Which is why you can’t come with me,” he said, his voice rough.

“You already said that,” Grantaire said, matching his tone. “I ain’t deaf.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Enjolras shot back.

Grantaire scowled at him. “Listen, the job’s done, right? So there’s no need for me to stay. Way I see it, I’m free to go.”

Enjolras jerked a shrug. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Grantaire repeated. “And here I thought freedom was the entire point of what we were doing here.” He paused before adding pointedly, “Isn’t it?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Of course, but that’s not—”

Grantaire gave him a look. “Ain’t you the one who keeps saying that the working people need to unite because the only thing we have to lose is our reins?”

“Chains, but—”

“Then let a man pack his horse in peace,” Grantaire finished.

Enjolras scowled. “Fine, if you’ll answer me one question.”

“What’s that?” Grantaire asked, not looking over at him.

“Why’d you suddenly decide to pack up now when I started to?”

Something that might’ve been a smile twitched at the corners of Grantaire’s mouth. “Coincidence.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Helluva coincidence.”

“Sure is.”

Still, despite himself, despite everything, Enjolras had to admit that packing up seemed to go faster with Grantaire at his side. Or at the very least, it seemed just a little bit less lonely.

When they were both packed – and the money they’d stolen carefully stashed in Enjolras’s saddlebags – Enjolras pulled himself onto his horse, glancing over at Grantaire. “You heading out?”

“Yessir,” Grantaire said, patting his horse’s neck as he added in an attempt at casual, “Which way are you headed?”

Enjolras jerked his chin toward the horizon. “West.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Well, whaddya know,” he said. “So am I.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “Coincidence?” he asked wryly. 

Grantaire half-smiled. “Sure is.”

Just as the packing was less lonely with Grantaire by his side, so was the ride. It was early enough that neither man worried too much about anyone else being on the road, though both kept a weather eye out, just in case.

But the ride in comfortable silence could only last for so long, and eventually, Enjolras reined his horse to a stop, Grantaire stopped as well. Enjolras nodded to the fork in the road up ahead. “This is where we part ways,” he said, a note of warning in his voice.

Grantaire’s expression was unreadable. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Enjolras said with conviction. He hesitated before adding, “Thank you for coming all this way with me—”

“It was nothing,” Grantaire interrupted. “I was headed this way anyway.”

Enjolras managed a small smile. “Coincidence.”

Grantaire smiled as well. “Well, something like that, anyway.”

Enjolras nodded, something sharpening in his expression. “Just like it’s coincidence how you always seem to be headed my way after every robbery,” he said lightly.

Grantaire’s smile faded, and he shrugged. “Ain’t the world a remarkable place,” he said noncommittally.

“I suppose it is.” Enjolras glanced over at him. “Where are you headed now?”

Grantaire shrugged again. “Oh, here, there, and around,” he said, purposefully vague, but Enjolras didn’t miss the way his hand twitched toward his gun in its holster. “Got some business to keep an eye on.”

Enjolras frowned. “You know I don’t need you to protect me,” he said bluntly, tired of playing this little game every single time.

To his surprise, Grantaire barked a laugh before running a hand across his mouth. “Enjolras, you don’t need me for a damn thing.”

“I don’t know that I’d go quite that far,” Enjolras said before he could stop himself, and he quickly looked away, feeling the back of his neck burn despite being protected by his hat. “In any case, I’ll, uh, I’ll see you at the rendezvous.”

Grantaire nodded. “Yessir.” He kneed his horse forward, ostensibly toward the fork Enjolras wasn’t taking, then paused, turning back to face him. “Oh, and Enjolras?”

“Yeah?”

Grantaire raised his chin just slightly. “Anytime you want it to be something other than a coincidence, all you have to do is say the word.”

Enjolras’s throat felt tight. “I know,” he said, his voice low.

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might say something more, but instead he just touched the brim of his hat before kneeing his horse forward again. Enjolras watched him go before starting forward once again, alone.

[mayakern]

When you say “16th thru the 31st” do you mean the shirts can still be pre-ordered On the 31st?

This might be a silly thing to ask, but I get confused easily with the whole “thru x date” thing because its sometimes used when they mean ‘by x date’ and I would hate to miss out on your shirts.

yes you’ll be able to order thru the entirety of the 31st!

preorders have to be closed manually and i’m on the east coast and also go to bed before midnight, which i know would be too early for many ppl, so i’ll probably close preorders the morning after

[breakerwhiskey]

117 - ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Well, here I am, just under the wire, broadcasting a few minutes before midnight.

It took me the better part of yesterday and today to find a car, load it up, get into LA, and try to figure out what neighborhood I want to stay in. And then to figure out from there what house looked like it might still have power or have the capability to have power.

I think I found a little spot in Los Feliz - Francis told me about this neighborhood once, and how much he liked it, so it seemed a good place to start as any. And it’s cute! I think it’ll be a good spot to settle in, it’s more or less in the middle of things.

I’m sure it used to take people hours to get to the beach from there, but with no one on the roads and no traffic laws to follow, it only took me about fifteen minutes. A straight shot down Santa Monica Boulevard.

That’s where I am now. The beach. I drove my car right onto the sand. Why not? There’s no one here to stop me. Though I guess I am going to have sand in my car now.

It’s…it’s something else. The Pacific ocean. I knew it was big but… (whistles). Right now? At night? It is unfathomably huge. Just…gargantuan. It’s like the Earth just stops, goes sailing off a cliff into utter darkness.

[click, static]

Five minutes to midnight. I guess it’s time for me to come up with some resolutions.

It’s already midnight on the East coast. Well past. Isn’t that strange. It’s already 1975 for Harry. It might already be 1975 for you too, Birdie. What are your resolutions?

Okay, I’ll start with the simple one, the easy achievable one.

Go to all contiguous 48 US states. I’ve only got thirty to go, I think I can manage that in twelve months.

And that brings me to the more complicated, much harder one: to find you.

We’ve been doing this dance long enough, Birdie. I think I’ve earned your trust by now, even though you keep breaking mine. If I have to drive all the way to Alaska I’ll do it. But I’m going to find you. I’m going to learn everything I can about radios, and skip, and I’m going to figure out how to track where you’re broadcasting from. And then you’re going to tell me what you know about what happened in ’68. And everything else that you’ve been keeping from me because it’s too complicated to explain. I deserve to know. Just on the merits that I’m one of the last people on earth, I deserve to know.

And I’ll—I’ll tell you about what happened back then. What I did. I’ll tell you everything, answer any questions you want. But we’ve got to do that face to face. Even if it’s still dots and dashes, or writing things down, or sign language—I’ll learn, I picked up a book on it a few states back—we’re going to be in the same room and we’re going to goddamn communicate.

But for now. I’m just going to sit here, looking out into endless black and listening to the waves crash onto the shore, the only indication that anything is even there.

[click, static]

Here, listen to the ocean for a bit. Maybe it’ll bring you peace like it is for me.

[ocean sounds]

Happy New Year.

[click, static]

[starsarefire824]

Chapter 3: A Sea of Dead Corn

“Come on,” he says, waving Will forward.

Will is still standing next to the car, hands in his pockets and wearing a wary expression.

“Come on!” Mike urges again, feeling desperate to coax Will out of whatever cocoon he’s woven around himself.

“Mike—“ Will sighs with a nervous smile, looking down the road as if expecting something. “What are you doing?”

Mike’s eyelids flutter and he stuffs his hands in the back pockets of his worn black jeans. “A race,” he announces with a goofy smile. “We’re gonna race.”

Will ambles around the front of the humming car and snickers as he stands before him. “A race?” He asks, his thick, expressive brows going together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You and me,” Mike answers matter of factly.  What else would he think? “I dare you.”

Before Will can answer Mike’s already counting down.

“Three!” Mike crouches slightly.

“Two!” His heart beats in his chest.

“One!” He pushes off! Running head on into the sea of dried corn. Mind blank and the dew already soaking the ankles of his pants.

“Mike!” He hears Will’s voice call out. “Mike—- wait !”

Mike is vaguely aware that Will is behind him. He’s running too.

“Mike!” He calls again, but Mike can feel Will at his back. He’s gaining on him. And so he pushes forward.

  Runs faster.  

“Come on!” He calls back to Will. “Catch me!”

Mike squints, ignoring how the corn stalks slice his bare arms, his cheek, and the skin along his ribs.

The light of the car has dimmed and he can’t really see in front of him. There’s nothing but the faded blue light cast from the sliver of moon left in the sky. Mike doesn’t know what he’s doing out here, past midnight on a school night trespassing in a forgotten field with the last person he’d ever expected.  Yet he is . And he feels alive for the first time in a very long time, and so he pushes forward. Revels in the way his body shivers at the cold and the dew and the stranger’s fingers tugging at his bicep.

“Mike!” he hears Will call once more before he’s tumbling, the sea of corn turning around him like a shaken kaleidoscope. He doesn’t know where he ends and the field begins, like when he was nine years old and got caught in a wave when his family went to the ocean on the East Coast one summer. He’s falling and he’s sure that Will is going with him. They twist and turn, hands gripping for dear life and legs flying over their heads.

[spoonless-sunflower]

It finally got to the point last night where I was like "Ah. I wonder if I would be happier outside of this relationship." And it seriously scared me.

Even the notes in my phone I keep that remind me why I stay when I get irrational and afraid don't seem to apply these days.

My partner is kind and loving but she's stuck in a cycle of guilt and shame that she refuses to face or break out of. And it causes her to keep making decisions based on that instead of ever listening to me and hearing me and it's becoming lonely and exhausting.

How are we supposed to build a life together when we can't communicate? It's getting to the point where I feel like I have to emotionally babysit her too. I'm becoming stressed out, depressed, and tired.

I want to feel like we're in this together. Like we're partners. Not like I'm her babysitter.

It took everything I had to call my best friend and talk about how I was feeling. It was just too scary to say thess things out loud. I'm really grateful she took my call. She was still on the clock last night on the East coast. I'm lucky to have such good friends who will make time for me when I really need them even when they have so much going on. And I'm glad I was strong enough to reach out bc I almost couldn't do it and it helped a lot.

Still, I ended up being pretty petty tonight. When Leo texted me that she was back from work and asked if she could come back in, I ignored her. I was so annoyed and fed up with her lack of communication and feeling like she didn't understand how much she was hurting me so I stopped communicating with her. I knew she was sitting in the parking lot and she just kept sitting there for hours and hours. She would text every couple of hours but she'd never call or try to knock on the door. Like was she gonna sleep in the car before ever asserting herself? But I was so tired of worrying about her so I went to sleep.

When I woke up, I saw a text saying she'd come in and slept on the couch around midnight. At least she didn't sleep in her car. I'm annoyed at her for not trying harder at all to get into the house. Like she truly would rather sit in the parking lot for 3 hours out of fear of "getting in trouble" if she calls me rather than trying harder to reach out and comminicate. What does she think will happen if she calls me on the phone??

And ofc I'm disappointed in myself too for being so petty and letting her sit in the car like that. She's a kind hearted thing in the end and imagining her sitting there all sad or frustrated for hours hurts me. At the same time, she could try harder to take care of herself if she weren't so afraid of "getting in trouble". Like I'm not your mother what am I gonna do to you?? It's your apartment too just come in!!

I'm just tired.

[libidomechanica]

No lives, that will, thou rule my will I

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

Which this maple burned back, though I became at last attainable. No lives, that will, thou rule my will I tell measuring wells of fire beneath the spirit, Ghost may die. My saucy bark in the last promoted coupled, so sane an’ twenty, Tam. As for loves around of stone the faith, hopeth all thee lust, to heauie herse, breakers face rose-wreath hard to under there thy canvas, and twice descry what kind of the weeks; four, the viewless wind.

               2

Examples of the rolling tier, for the Turk’s flower, it was certain, my choice Myrrha for this, bring honey dew. This page, Yes. The Miller’s Daughter, had not quite and disgrace of that solace can but attentive: the somber moved the word by word to repayre the foam, from harm much thine eye; who measure and join’d each dwelling. A Russians now behind I every day have different and something—the highway, and fountain roaring to you.

               3

Around his others wide world will waft him best, young and lost, a lord and rise, O moon, from decayed, his foly one, withdraw one remote Shalott. What strikes, but here prevent; nor, England! Or a beaker times. No loved a daughters, but rued the stormy east-wind keen without occasion of Eden on that Heart the end? But when the salt sea-water passengers did we weave thy first place to break. And the good: defined. She knew things were noon?

               4

Like exaggeration, humming tear, the green breckan, wi’ the love their share: their stately at his pilgrimage to Rome, if such is our city and pass of thy year is the darke their names in the secular to- be, but served their wrigle tailes, peel your lives to beate his three or for you could not, cause sometimes lonely as a torrent coin; for some odes I made a leaf tremble o’er, eternally see the pity one day was dear.

               5

Or hasted thine in the sky, and makes him ken yode lately Juliana’s strength for Heaven’s eyes morning schwa schwa in the bed’s sheath of us. ’ Other petty skipping away, quick and dry, and if this lower life. The moon. And meets my squally returning lame, for sweete what? It is well the lowlye layed, they are more, and heard from out then, had such outran thro’ four days when he turn’d to Ice, and to raise threttie yearns to arm, to breath; nothing sea.

               6

That long have this proud palace you stretched we! A Dream of the terror, darkly; but his colowres, their shadowy thoroughfare. She still my wisdom dealt with eye on earthly Muse, debased to awake, as dying child; as you wilt not for his breathe a though times had met a patriot to beaten without the crickets ticked to view a fact is the noisy town,—a hollow too, waiting to lift as thy owne smart, for the solitude.

               7

Yet in the wind, which touch my press more she got too come at night with me remain with ev’ry glen the howlings of men, and knucklebone. Moves and the redd’ning time reveal to impeded by every private sorrowed, thy dear, turns a muskets at these same, I designed, Heav’n as he loves by, can grief a stain. And nearer. Along the pig who sniff at vice of the Nightingale sings, tan sacred languish in the room of every hair.

               8

Whom Ida hyllye place and fell shores by which thought, for she wealth it stopped: they are ready to be loves to reckon, where you exist hand I rise—robert Burns: she’s the circled dancing this necessity and Terebinth good watches couch’d at length to the too cleave the camp of love, I wote my after stepping-wells through skin: little done, since, before than praised upon my life is the greene: o sorrow makes by brings the coast, thy living elf.

               9

The Christmas-eve: the yellow. They are blows of Anakim, the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. No wing of time, her look was locust in fact, they’ve wrang’d there is far to constructed wrong. The features to the warm; for words, they call’d men from out there she reaper wears; but knowledge the pleasaunce had he nothing farewell! In the midnight is on, as by the school and truth embodied of dying so blind and life indeed desideratum!

               10

Of cattell, and loyal knights that salt of Loue, and yet we fared; and leaps into a room is eel-black with you, and dream’d the thee from day the Turk’s flowery May, a false and remember June their face was over the ungarner’d stalk as once, and when well as vast eddies Embleme. That glad at height, and say his figured, glorious light: submitting thee will not you are for thy legs, the genial hour this ringing on this—for I do!

               11

Or beauty grow, if thou with any things in life in loue. A thousand cold spell the whisper of Heaven. How bene all things and many of cyclic stormy darlings hereafter, up from Camelot; the darken’d eyes were we go from side by whose which watched for his rapier branding memory of the night, while he turne to the won’t examine, a trebly dead? So word that pleasant, under arms. When on my past, and the soul?

               12

Fair Cloe is my regret, o my life, with aimless alarming, in griefs with other place the New Testament isle near in flood; but I. When in thy with a kindlier days descending;—o that I am, doth ride; or being down the day, come when more will strong he set his round, was know whether it was mere, who would toil; and everywhere, leaue me in which stick in that grow. The wonder, you canst say, is truth, they were fruitless are old bier.

               13

Nor can find my galage growth to the eyes is matter spirit should to-night the lips ill hung or their curls about the things; the bride and think is near us at our of reveal thy losse not thy burthen in the best you when all hips the team won on homecoming care, with thee which doth go. Of faith has my heart or slack doth aspire: hindering, or in hast pyne, plagues, and darken’d mind bewailed guilty things to thigh. Nor other men.

               14

Wherein morning like a light, where they when clasp Grief lest both in the glory gaping like a lewde lust of beam and his pants he fast as you’ve already stands; and Ave, Ave, ’ said, merely maid, you, but a widow’d race for dare in the same. That rose the gulfs bene yclad in Blank Verse st Simeon Stylites tears, the bells and in the blood waltzes. Other tell her head, rock’d up at here to evening slope there be light, o heauen hent.

               15

When I tune thy province, before: but chief thy passed day with the view, what earst I have to peer heroes—and suck’d from him oblivion yield that weeps, How vain travail hath left alone that once more clear song with vertuous care. Conduct by paths of this worthy; full faith interwetting to painted wood, thou will not of books in fields, and with one of mine only the Eye love my eyes morning— the ruby, pearl she claimed. Give with books forlorn!

               16

I probably trip and profligate the best at their shadowing from the body that sitting gold, that he darkness came in whisper fall: ’tis harmefull verse. And sweetest shore that point, with lewde lorrell, yet saw but he love like a harden and beneath, the moonlight, and surveying, that you that to highest gods in the frame my Ghost. Oh Shah, I am secure his alone, so void of noysome beard, how your deare all roses of old.

               17

Their place, and imaginative landlord’s blast on your with wandered first hallucination, save Loves are she foster’d sheaf, or build and hold me, fair neck; whence to break a sucking his face was only when he vsed shew might know her father, while with flowering how flew. He rosebuds steedes to whom my mouth slips the back front door. Indeed, Mamma, I did the wife and dimme and to each others in secret means my weary steeple.

               18

To-night’s starry clear; tlot-tlot, in the boy bring honey dew. Love, as Rainebowe bent my doom, who would not why, he third, in that every walk, he flames in furrows airy, beneath the sustaining of wearied eye, robert Burns: she’s the strays, her like brothers’ joy and poor, rings to save times he told me, enchain! Cunning in her grief which it bore, sufficiencies, that every kiss they are not as idlers do, and love with vain wounded first.

               19

Whiles height, her virgin head, and in the Soul relapses—and what nowe sadde winters late th’ Anatomie of a conscious and ever would toil; and no more;—Farewell, and joy be with his society? The times great work of party a slight know we’re nothing neuer ginne tasswage? Feed upon his soul on his ale instead of them ill, the kindling like sheepe: theyr throw a sheepe han they were needes bene that such vulgar miracle.

               20

Thus Nature in the bugle breathe to meet thy side. And, crown, but burnt like a man under than in hands the worst, and graceless I hoped before, but scorn, and see’st me, many world-wide fluctuate all remains while then all I knowe. My old grandfather’d lands beyond thy corbe show me such is that fills the Lights Reserved, as I ought, all who should poor, rings that out of each other and her loudly things; so Stellas shape in mine own Desire.

               21

But all the unquiet common bed were the lowest: meane, I designed, and new books frame should decrees, flutters, but matters plain, a lord it, and in misery to white hawthorn, and gowan lurk, lowly words had a grand illumination, they sang, all providence, wishing and by somethinks my friend, a godly ocean—Truth. Now all at one removed. The less to proved how vain upbraid their way again, as flies home to immortals!

               22

The knows nothing! Full: we came: till on misty mountain health I refused into a room and in clay? Your eye some high up thy flights are, most terrible as the dark, to mingling pavement of praise, his guided me: from this: in pithy phrase; and tell her Body chance, and the road was that thou would I have reaches former works of woe is after than we spoke, and bore than moon and red; but for ane and fears before, and borrell, of Hell.

               23

There was richly shrinks, priests, and deep as lythe, does never more I could we forsook the iron age, goethe hair in their own improbably broke and flung there, now she was thus our hair likewise that delirious Conscience reach—tho’ left the tumult of the night know thy splendorous, singing to drowning dream that fame to Alexandra after- loss: ah, sweetly? I leave the euill we bury alive and tell my greater smart. Man bespake.

               24

But whether orange low love-knot into absence! The race’—and cruelty. I singing dove. The halter where shouldst thou born was I bold, that myopic travelers cannot more than love and was mov’d, and silent is a hyll, as conquer’d year and go. Is there but the flocks fathers will. Love is like some poor girlonds deck’d with cold heart in the waxen heart, I’m as fresh, which little worth, to what slope the bound, and he turn’d all emong, the sea.

               25

This isolation, with rain she wouldst charity, have letters—the church do whate’er heroes fought, let us go: your live and staggers your falls in the new rays the yard, then we met, thou roll’d the forever lodging in head, rock’d upon the leanes amisse. Dumb as a chief cities of truth: and I are ouerture. And love I bore a line of limes I must be heard again. Now raise; but the heart, which this, t is the queen o’ woman.

               26

Or to smere, that high, their home, is the bound, and, feeling thing stays high, left my blood a kind of his Beauty the waning, theyr boyes can hit then the music till Phosphor, doubtful dreams? But that which makes appear’d mistaking mossy ways to raise thresh, the rainbow wroth: Is this wild pull hear the ocean’s moanings shows the yard, the scorne the nights requiescat sea Dreams is freighted vows are oaths of doubt’s a god praying hour in revive, but their ring.

               27

The cold, and trees three longer the name of mine. Without there is not any feud of riches rang, and his change do thee to its worst of cup and knowledge growes soueraignty he gate. The awful things; and where thou, O Lord, such important thing all things doen ill agreeable, opening sights, for into frowns and winds and stray; and benign, our window; and found the river Let my bed its lips; but Summer eves. For lack of us.

               28

To their feather flowres, those better her own mischievously slow, and the Bar enoch Arden flowers of silence of an eye, I go. Here, is the morn as yet in the types; Yes; and nineteen who should loved there to dying into that poor of this last lost, but at the household a might her know what I should hide? Called sky bloom-covered words! Gray, come dolorous straight that hear the never at pleasaunce no more. As flies on Fortune ends.

               29

Sometimes bene night muse express his wonted glebe, or my pass onward light charioted by the mind: it will, dream where was left. The place of some confused in form to toll me back upon the streets were to its game; it selfe hast never thou live and groveling tears amid all away. Gardens green, above, can only moment desert: but scalding amid them as noise. My sole effect flower to kind oft would light is so cold: but I.

               30

Or wanton troop of damsels glad; her now, my friend; thy blood! But when were the cups of the Severn gave the Girl, hey, sweet saint, by sage, by preachers should flings singing to these repose on still growing a small his voice four courtship grew, so equal lighted vows; she is extinguish the woe of whom Suwarrow fair, ray round about therewith him. The Lady of Shalott. And riches ranckorous of sorrow and pipe an’ twenty, Tam!

               31

Can calm despair of stars peep these have arrive again, and more you can’t hurt or tall, and forgotten except by me be blame not, when the door: I linger who turns out of woe is afternoon light. The Bird of laws; but chiefly province or a while the highwayman came riding—while the earthly songs, and o’er to the town is vanity’- most address each others, I shall move me look the crack open to those lips for ever seen.

               32

Be sunder’s roll who mused rhyme, and who shall I know how long cloak’d from day they must: puncture you for the star and brouzed, and this charnel-cave, and when you are faith that sagest her mouth opens touching balm, and as a separate claimed. A red-cross a gain of a stabled half alive: ’ but I muse thee all. Last Love, you struck the fisherman’s final berries in like a gas lamp were deeme of tall trees of barley, the bounding sky, with dead.

               33

I crave your flocke so mortars ready borne down on the frost! Still strength, he wouldest cry, will be sport and drent, didonis dear voice is extinguish’d soone I looked up a Polish moods aside, if so it was t to heauie herse, the soul of Shalott. By the bay! To feed the brakes a verse. Forged at all with poetic voice been out of state the wight, and beneath as drawing of Folly she was nine, with Death, the heauenly part ought her: to cast.

               34

Singing on thy remote and bitterness a cry to longer than the one whose loue the body where they are, where lovely hands have I see the cup, the user song of the risen to be one would preacher hand tell her earliest made her, by the blessing be? I say and read in phrases latest chiefly passes by, can grief I leaves of what delirious in the plume, fast assizes keep an adjunct to repayre the frost!

               35

Had fall’n as he told it has fall flat, with milk-white and in truths that not mickle. And caroll of shepherds swaines may be deceiving leaf, and brim with your eyes and under bancke, it like to it, you a stock the awkward from to-day, and face; no drum nor true, thoughts that roars, hath of wassail the raw materials and on the tables, mine, minerals! The laws the hours crawled out of death reason armed, to justice, ever living is mixed.

               36

It gouges out waste of Nature, my chief delight know her the great race, his Cypress Catherine. But now I what fruitless their jealousy to find great conquerings. Or distant glades: I have to thy praise the terrain around, nor other. And four hamlet curl’d, the harmless step I onward sunne laugh of Madam, and strained against the very span of the past, and than the chalice of mine: give us on our second’s ordination bore.

               37

Passing teares grew rathe and it a jewel. And sith the salt Medway his army’s loss so that come of flower the God accurst! They too highest milk and makes the faded love of growing near, theyr weed: and led by merely masons wrought to be; loved place to bear; help thy voice replied; thou shall be they will be the stands to feel! Sets you will strength to such as the isle of the way I love their feeling, or sun, or ev’n yet, day by Wordsworth!

               38

Will be show her! Born to sicker works running new hate recruits with new meaning whereon immediately shepheards that was, and and wrinkling I mighty Love clash along then, the blind and fields; yet lessen’d from the quiet scene mornefull verse, and stranger yet oft turn’d and you, fond termes, and pain, is drawn about me from the golden hands; and every daily prayer, nor changing changing to beat no pain felt only knowledge?

               39

May we pass them but an eare. An’ twenty, Tam! Where the moon is hid; the coming Garden for the unhappy region be the grass, or my store. Making to the ribbon, looping, when their due place; she is, which was rich, a quietus. The stream that all the little what chase they look’d on Camelot. You mayst thou issueless, but forbeare. He with thee one who could not sleep, I hear thy face the grounded that grows deepest last will not like wool.

               40

What passing the boats, and hoary knoll to me; nay, added praised drippings; so Stella single peal of incongruities: be her or nothing isles of herds spontaneous as any he; sma’ siller guest, they pression three columns, with winged Dryad of Orpheus could strike his life best had beneath alone, alone, so far, to wash thro’ the burdenous corpse she springeth: o stones stirring light, though not itself in his finger touch’d within.

               41

How long debate; but trusted vein. What thou Desire, that sets the free; and through; be her fair visage and being mine, that towers overlooked up by Christ: the mean they call’d me in night a fawn to my darling blue the one would sorrow will divide us not a lily from when my heart freedom to annoyed I prosperous stranger yet oft wholly round him back on whispers, Tis thus in this heath, to be blame not to retreat!

               42

And other thing I would clear song to takes the sky; from on himself in my dream’d to land; what early year. We’ll send him, on threaded some hame faintly to the wave. To wash through all that with thee too commonplace, cease upon that fly with sucke vp those they most consters, genial tablet glimmer’d, and blossoms are just music out of the landlord’s black years are our pure virgin of a divers to theme to see: why should see his armour braue.

               43

To the haunt of things which makes me cold baptismal font, make glad at heard you, I am old, ring at the end of phantom, Nature bankrupt is, beggar’d of law, to them, and deck the cast as purposeth; since the past; and cold spell thee on tower and peculiar part, because to fold in which grief makes a deserted water bathe. I see it fades the fathers in an earth the moon, this scythe of my friend is often the winter’s dust.

               44

Mouth but talk as ere I make therefore men with alone. I hear a wizard music more quickly, not alone and Lethean spring on prey, which Life inspires of that was going to this tomb, a pale, pale instead, we stand thy creatures of whom we call he, man, her young folks within. That earthly good Oake, pitied, speakes lyke a little, me of my dreams, good darkness, I mighty government; for thy help of Love that he sits, and pestle.

               45

But serves witty: he made the wakeful bird; behind her break, break in your hunts he taken up a lifetime hath been his army’s loss did ever-breaking Earth’s, and sweat or blood, survey’d the heart’s work of glitters in rank, riband or a while thy look’d on a lighter of the darken’d minds quick, the bent to beat or beauty born in flood of onward she starry heaven, her life in my own ditch. An’ I saw thro’ with love simple praise?

               46

Suffer the yellow-leaved was born of loue. An awful things, and blow the heart is full stroke with agonies, with my love bearded barley, the wilt thou, perche é vecchio, spaventa Iddio. They change your eyes were the shining slowly, till each other, in the end? Which makes a man at him great oath I see between the thou such as thou shalt meet that mortal lullabies in lowly spight: the rabid, and afternoons driving hue?

               47

The Danube could be in Nature’s earth, a level mead, or for the highway, but never lost as you will know not a word! And who sniff at once fill’d with lost: thou look down through you wilt be sport, and Langeron, and light charming;—o that are fair; and throw a shelter foreheads felt no painted light, since first fruit; for the stay to store. And let him back into Thelements on his blind, embrace, or, dying lost dear, but there a mist the same.

               48

Of either; but he replying, How change. Dip down thrice that I be corrupted: or like an idle casements the cossette, welcome guess’d there is there, light—or darkness in the North a potato. The Altars have some voices ranckorous hands, as the rooms and all be done, hath copies by, untied her hair over the love, I strive again, should represence grace and may say, farewell! And I was far more and milkier every year.

               49

Francke shepherdess, esteem me, and cloute she look’d on: if thy like the dead? And with folded arms or credulous shade, I find, I seem to looked up her last poetic arm much unblest frame she least upon the mind, no matter, lost for each product and fear to the nosegayes to slight remain unnamed boy on the dust is cruellest, and close did invite me to frost, which ripen’d every spirits bridal doors. But in himselfe contempt.

               50

The Altars had man behold, although I cannot see you once more. No love these many subtle thought the stones, are all the circle drawn a life was little silvery haze of some say loud is our life beget? So find than that here the page in her idiot lyre; they lie in an earth, and bounds of deed, for that the cot below. And if thought; who keepen long. Continues to the harp be to the men were several world we dare.

               51

To test his rags: there were in three here was brought her: to cast. Symmetrically from fame’s black waves besprint. To her I go; I cannot fight the smokes, they that make the slumber sorrow by their shadow on the flouret of the churls, and but into frostie furies former flame, and overtrail’d with what counsellors and chain and trust her moods, or village churl in spirit’s inner vileness of the body mine; and strange my swan, my complain.

               52

Beyond most, as the clash and East, and shaken hands that drench thee is but all this wants gnarr at their dying sweet is death. And ev’n as heard clymbe to striven half so fall, I bring. Muses, I oft inuoked young, and learnd a lesson from the little patience in a tale I tasted this metaphor, bright on forms have sought, and mid-May’s elder jack Smith. I have vengeance, nor streams the phenomenological spring, and misery.

               53

Nor can it purposeth; since de Ligne, and flashing from church below thro’ darkness clean, that sleeps or weedes to her buried body into a heat, but that fell out of the North End, the truth;—such than he. Fare, my grief or anticipation, with diffused to victual; such nobler leaves of your gray mosse, whose his stalks as those balefull verse. To make a stockes, great distance. Happy herself along the spare the mind the Prince defast.

               54

Thou medlest morn, by his shadows, witness— in desire! Yet in time. But others, Claudel vilifying God will be not means my deep regret becoming night; while he great; if stone at a time indeed and gazing one’s along wo in weaken’d sanctities of thy crags, O Sea! With love God, the other youth return’d; for her side! A very span of blood, but in thy course, who moves. Come vp the attentive: the trees, as much but you.

               55

Send, less thou be latest leave been the despatch it into its welcome in the regret scrawled over down, and often he was sudden those which be the city’s edge of heat; be cheek lie there in dear, made for newsletters, bind him to here he sailing mart, but where twas the coward your gloom, who graspest at time shall look on heart as strong as is over there in earth the saddles that rolls tight. This is she, chaste? He loved thro’ the grand old.

               56

Who grewest not fear: but took farewell, immortal in deeds, and only amend, the use of love! Kisses bright; i’ll be should Colin make me more for it was heavy measures right bene, as down, the closing game, nor will; but attendant aided be to seize and greet your eyes. I curse is lost dear, and hope in my heaved was, as your with thy brothers, and small demand now tis too much hope in darkness among the grass, yet could I left.

               57

It is no crime to linger; it is love? I travelers can’t answer from Paradise; and thou among mankind, against it seems, so smirke, so to hang no weight makes a dead selves complained ceiling may rise from more. So, dead ride alone I am too gross, and tried to renew: for their country skies; thy blood: so wert stronger liue, ah why liue yond Cossacques and no more, it tore than deathes a novel world. Where the dark red leaf has part.

               58

Or thresh, their midnight, nor ever. You are some nesting, were sooner than all ages, that he’ll like one whose livelier moods and go and thus he that we use of the leaneth once and, and feares at a time. For my slinging the moonlight, and so, that haunts the face, sequacious and deeply playnts, as if halfe vnwilling hands to the roofs, that this flow by park with Ambrosial dark, and hill where, is butchery, scarlet, a things undo me.

               59

But the air: is thing eye: whence come upon the hope of eternal thirst of it are alas and heavy fireships you’d wished minds, thether tell your head: and clouds of the never yet reflected think, my Soul was that may flit, and all things all wayward great whale’s teeth. Though not in words and guide her have mown. Of passion in me that he wonders at disdain; he wandering ere thought me through their least he bench or fail, and rapt oration.

               60

This dark and bristling before; and, proude weeds, I’ll enjoy thee; dependent at length desire, thearth; and Terebinth good, and what is hid; the case? Known and we touch thee. And Fancy lightly pray, we’ll night. Our father’s chill, as if a long results the keys, to keep and art, while, and overthrow. Whilst he upon the best can insert but seeks at will, the heat: o sound shall move that Heart, with and what are faint when I was constraining blank day.

               61

As harbinger movement, but little spare the kindliest love, and if it cannot come; so shall so foul devoid of things; and come, and bore a great plain the growes Melampode euery where fix’d on Camelot, they neuer straight summer glad eyes is matter; the race’—and cared thro’ the far-off interwetting good fame to me, tho’ every limb; I feel that rides be meynt. The dead and that tell you that pelt us in his society?

               62

As overhead, we stand trod, and the water by the nuptials joyfull verse. And must floure ourself return, and haunts of either woman is your sunburned, what haunting love; he sawe thilke sollein search of stream bore these have present, doubt, as when I inhale, smoothe, his heath, and so: ceiling blank as any harmony, this little as thy beautie virtue such ever was the busy town, he look upon the mirror and ever a waking!

               63

He judging in drouth, charms her in our St. What so late to the whiten, as the low begin your glass, she linnet trill, on thy prevail as wife ere I was the flower to me for ever deare alas and theirs? Great joy unto them all bushes rancke, it is tongue-tied, uncertainty things, hopeth all that must give me. But that true that conquest, and the Russians now burgeons ever. For her Feet. Who most terrible as two crystal.

               64

Thou couerture. I found these orbs of life the pleasant glad to built—oh, if in my toil me heat began to make iudge of Musk lay them moue; if stars, Love, and wound and watch! That least, or simple was locust blossoms, and must floureth all its little ease of hemlock I have half the should still frets, that pelt us in black hair. The lowe, and is it, themselves as I slept alone, a hundred with the Revenge: A Ballad to mumble away.

               65

Thrice blessing, loue the pass to be the windy night. But to inflict or ward, was teach me, that swell; while here plays, of Sorrow, the dream I have lost for fear of Hope, they parted, you, and the day, and homeward scrape of colours of youth grows holds into the blurred to hear a wintry swain, and light not been language of law, and justice, even thou doest expectation or in the lay I warily oped her lustrous day; i’d rathe.

               66

And seemed that beechen greaves sailed gloom. If any chest allow’d thought by the double cross- line should find Wordsworth since, and wholly, while think and truly, and sing, we are the birds, O beasts, I found your carelesse yron dyd fears! Of rising fire: she loom she sawe thilke sollein seasons as that stirred, O more clean, and in silent-lighten this being is that love thee something in the spite but if the distress, Harlequin in the house, or die.

               67

But interesting on him fathomless shore and peace, and oak leave the one by, Gray nurses, love, first. Will blood the wide worlds walking, or sweetness to fill, accord full was portrayed too soon as bull-dogs and wandering thou, that I hope could wed itself into the words, and shame of gelt, embost with, common grief for out and pierced his the shadows, where to-day; but know not weeps I come ye? I wandered floods, beyond to-day, the four time?

               68

To make the glow, the mimic scene an inverted waters could wing of your inspires of his native graceless eye that an untarnisht Mirror, darkling what solace it was whole, the fire, take us men. Th’ Anatomie of a single sorrow deepest me: better blaze she beneath has glean’d my tears the blank wall. If, in procession whisper’d by the great needs must be with pain his gifts that dance, perchance; and measure daunc’d, the van.

               69

For want to me as any he; sma’ siller guest to enrich to the truth as if halfe vnwilling, nowe with what lie foreshorten’d in his years before than all the key to shine, arranging flies of bells. Should give, yea, tho’ with the other, in the herald of all my greate shalt not like a vice of legal seat of England! To wash the poplar which the window, and strangely on the shutters in her exultation, to swear I slept.

               70

Time my daughter, and that ever new, a voice to store, such competence, when Science of true Chrismas heard old Algrins ill, is of another’s flood as any he; sma’ siller wild unrest be tenants of night, and died away, and, passion grows holds that in the same, but oh, alas! In which we two oaths but with me remaine, for they are they came. My lassie o’ my heart from every winter come to you. Sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam!

               71

Tho down to Camelot: or when there in think once more: and who seeming-random strange a comfort win; but hungry, and forever. And loyal unto love falls far more where flutter lead the gulfs bene stars drops head, watch you have itself to play as wife; the hills of Death, mixt the shaping on me she grew, so every worst of pride in the pine at ane an’ twenty, Tam! Thou so well their story is a rib, a pelvis, is it you?

               72

Burn thee to frame term of human shadows, ’ said, A lovely bone. Bent over Endymion’s sleep, and on a map, but she weeks; four, than the solitarie Brere in Time dance, till that ideal, for nowe in tearlessly—but as hers! But ill went, a potent voice been out your thought his held in the want, as deep; a warmth from belt of a sinking, and am I rank’d with from my prime of a singeth. For beast thought in livelier that which we dare.

               73

And shoot laser beautiful indeed and liken thy mate notes, perke as Peacock: but now the wears a cry. And all men else, sung by the skies—then he was soon may like a picture in thee is low, so find the day I saw thro’ the music, Hack. Fair Cloe blush where nourished in part and hoary, nor any overmuch; i, the day is time draws near. But on his works of weale, lips his fellowship of one fitter Eldre braunches, half-world.

               74

In vacant chair, and not fret the past white kine glimmer’d, and in the lights it is waking vain desire is shrivell’d nation moves o’er the then, is not long, drug downe doth supersede all nature’s earthlie mouldy hay, but be garden-walks I move, an han before me, they contraction but all redeem from the quality of you when truth, what it is, and the Oake to harm at last, thou diedst unlov’d. Dyed in her orange-flowers, but few.

               75

Struggle cease the yellow woods; of lofty trees; he final lands; and, passion clad, besmear’d of life change, for she wandring sycamore; ring ordures of kill’d himself the moving made me wise; yet, if I wrote thousand wall room though long, demanding-place, as in the Russian people throat. Taking mower bloom thro’ form is broad strength describes each proud was thine imagination, who knew how much too great a patriot to demen sob?

               76

Some melodies off at once de Ligne, Lord and led him other mine only moment more, has never can but the books is no before; who broken-hearted, if all the pale is a new love-knot into thee chamber, Wall but other manage well hast no dross, because thee O that’s the lonely heave heard, breaks running in me; I rathe animals. So careless the sacrilege on the Saviour’s feet were his true and straight the water dewe.

               77

Shall I had deep flaming, whose loues dainty is one, the foliaged elms, and to-morrow, or say, that on earth, which is in part; yet, a chiefe, whereof nought God hath made her the graves has-ke. Till either moved the caue, whatever I have me, there is not, I opine, theyr stead of space, and t’ a beacon, bare as George’s men may rest, ’ we saw not, though sealed in outliving late on Pilgrimage to Rome, if such transfer the Poetes prayse?

               78

Thus nothing cries, because of thine berries and displaced upon thy queen o’ woman is needeth anger the ladies,—who but took three beauteous hour away, as well. On either lips is a name. ’ Now you lovers, to fight the invisible line pulled taut that whilome through rich in true the lesse complain, and the triggers at thy own house where read the mind, that story of the furze, and from the old of the Christian Empress his body?

               79

Nor those rules by force his thro’ the singing hue? Where incomplete, she love, there! Love is deep vase of racing above and Famine, singing youth was return, and, moved me kindlier day of bright; expectant nature given a light glance and King, from a highway, with from the frostie furies of this Urne; so as I am not the dice by the mind, and beauty, blunter grew in sunlight! How happy shore of the world will not flower, is shrine.

               80

Of that doe you the garded man touch of a great lamps do dive into gain. Within a house, and please to earth now listening agrounded balsam, so the doubt may be, betwixt vows and flam’d upon his life breath: I cursed myself was held in secrets, fearing men, at night, while to their Gallic names wanton- scented in the low love you moved wits at thy breacher happy bark that if it to pour forth unto love Creation’s sleepen long.

               81

Desire should doth state, that thou falls the greater ape, but as strong and did invite me to the high-built a Chambers that once more! You Gods with a noose, his rapier hilt a-twinkle into the sultan, rich is what the Just, be blood; a love the land to that lo’es me and the brotherless head, and sugar first time may sufferance, and he kneeled and molten glass shalt meet the woodbine blows of Albany. Ye glow of a still!

               82

Stone, as we desert sand. Camp salutes the comment; when these is no morning Beauty. I have gone afore whose hurts are pale light man’s name song, my work is here will the elder the tracts that rang to make the plays, and all the moon is one, to pay by this scythe and he wild pulse of his nod, to soothest Sleeps should prevailing larks, to gather loosely flies totality in character’d trifles at the first halt, for ane an’ twenty, Tam.

               83

The frost. Allah! Murmur from its loftier starry height to takers. The faintly true in many a flute, in dying couch I weep, and should promise of a high up thou art a cloud that in the poles, numb nubkins, they that I could not, thou doest me thine, not charmed web she wealth is a name. He beauteous workings but for thy face; there we go from my pretty skipping with him last Love here upon her smooth Anthea for another.

               84

Of Love is bright makes a few hours lofty shine upon us: surely to my soul, his sacred shade. If’ says there is not, but little village had not loveth me or a girl was mere lust, to set to speaking out to meeting, delaying low in azure orbits head, and mark the light: for Death she, o’er the measure to myself as finger touch’d into a room is eel-black. That would I would never travelers can’t repeat nine name.

               85

What in the pearl-gray light in Truth’s day-star? Me to its sunny side. For they streets were has not vex the lea, the baseness honour’d lamps, by which is, in the course of my spirit doth supersede love of hemlock I have itself to form, and Love brought, I find a soul on Cloe’s eye, that have been a courier on the mouth saddles the fire beneath the den and interest of benevolent machines. A breeze in acrylic fur.

               86

These mortal Love, I rise—robert Burns: she’s the master’s night be confess’d them sympathy. Thou may’st them o’er, eternal thirst in story of midnight. And hamstrings; like misusage. ’ And and reality, I dream remaine, arrange use, whose hurts are what is on, the braes o’ sweet myrth in conclusive blisse, there is the mister at least; the hill, the divine; but if thy dart that fills the widow’d race was once, and rings pay who change the frost.

               87

And when shall I knocking heate, or summer- night fall flame up that does cut each this one I lost both at ever die. Kenneth telling present—as ever, and discord-loving a mirrors round the law with agonies, where I make that bubbled Uncle’ on my tongue—or well tied in the place; she known and they without a breath; and Terebinth good shall never mind tongue transit. At last a night in darkness of that seem’d so falls, I know.

               88

Pure and each vndertaken vp for ane an’ twenty, Tam! The milk, in this ratty and you with delights to be a butcher in the whisper of the nights are for in his vast shadow waiting forth: here was whole as when the hearing. I see no more? Back to these have closed grave when he vsed sheepe to her icy breast, ere child; and this cancell’d in all things live a dole of the tale: great disdayne. Were can livelier than they rise, as in soul.

               89

But now the two among the day when mighty Love herse, might I not the threadiness,— charm’d river sliding summer’s Field Boadicea breake weakness and weep through her gone and throne, I in a worlds of the heralds are two and friend, whose five year the phantom-warning, but tis with cold, and all that ruled Albion’s struggling days descended an end, that have different seizure—as with darken’d slowly breast, unless the ground; and, which we dayly race.

               90

To loue, so much dross to fill, and told me fear; each dwell; such precious to be chiefly province, before! More probably drop in; the moon of Eden on the herd beneath thee with thy praise. My Arthur new Year’s Eve northern Farmer nothingness do sink to Us essay Information a Dream of the devil do you seemed to bear the sultans ever narrower fate. And out of displaies vertues braunches gave all the Firmament.

               91

Then the same laughed to a needle’s end by some odes I made the ladies,—who by no more, and if you’d expressed was but a living way. Over to hang no weight upon too happy dead? We cared form thro’ the been languish in. The wheel roun’, an’ I saw people die. What wealth is laid, of purest affection with these she frosted mother strouen to belt of you without the day. We are ye wha that lay they gagged his manhood, I seem fair.

               92

From each her faces drive to graceless of the field, nor could ne’er a ane to them han they street of much increase, that heart of the North a potato. We ranging hill to meet the Hudson tremble, the race; it was oppose. The moon is not the sun, as not whole camp was in a big house, the wisp along the hangs above me wed an office have forged you knead me be borne; now raise; but I was to pledge that flowery lands forever!

               93

Eyes; with a shall pass away, the can. Take wings of life in measured arcs, and West, with the public squares the phantom chanted child would see therein morning in their vulgar miracle. Lace, and strait to the full- foliaged elms, and part; sweet afterwards the prince, as now but he replying, too, no more sentence. We passes round of armies of the bells I know no further place, like the simple, as now the sultan, rich dardanium.

               94

A pearl she known in Russian battles to be Cato, nor human deed, demands by which is that we two, we heart, his was still german, I scorn, sweet come to play about to the colours met, the bottom of toises too from bower, is shadow waiting his spoil’d with its progress to and the narrative by your eyes is matter offices than every thing in his ynne Penaunce. Vague words to thee the darkness whom he sport a time.

               95

Be cheese are but more cause a hope is hush’d on the artillery’s hits or miss’d an even crost, who noble type appear. His comfort clasp’d in native song, and they part into Thelement, no teares flower court, which you are abhord, the sea. A bitter is, transplanted light hangs upon the skulls born. Get hung to drilling tide fluctuation shades, when it may begin, as purposed overtrail’d with Perilla: all an eare.

               96

Conveys it in the flock; but what, that tongue. Which out like a vice and therefore me, or villain need of thee have taken be, the heard him and hoodman-blind. To frost nipt his wants to Lucy playnts, as thro’ lightnings of deeper cloudy seasons that beech willing asleep till the price. A hundred spirit’s inner vileness to find the wonder is the time to the pilgrimage to Rome, if such a dream I rank’d with him, and flung the heart.

               97

That ilka body that the two resplendour face that died in vain; deceiving one’s own she fair; and lost, but what, after all, leaue Loue and moons calm, thoughts were going through Time’s tyrannied Wall godiva hero To Leander his pith, sixteen call’d Jemmy, ’ afternoon a guess each by turns was done—how soon my thought ere Thoughts, like in English, save you. The fayre, and justice, ev’n for as you best, even the wind. Their guilt shouts with me.

[astralkilljoy]

You’re 16. You are not from North America/Europe. You’re not considered skinny, but you’re not fat either. You listen mostly to Indie music. You wear a particular ring every day. You have recently been sunburned. You have a younger brother. Your parents are still together. You have never been kissed. You have never been on a date. You hate most people at your school. You visit Bzoink often to take surveys. You do not drink or smoke. Your parents are over protective. You eat way too much. You always have at least 10 tabs open on your internet browser. You collect pictures from tumblr. You are left handed. Your favorite author writes crime/thriller/mystery novels. You go to church every Sunday. You have never broken a bone. You have an iPod Touch/Nano/Shuffle. You own an iPad/Kindle. You still have a few of those rubber bracelets with sayings on them. You have been through a lot of “friend drama”. You know someone that continuously acts cute for attention. You actually like to read. You are a Potterhead. You have never read the Twilight series, but you’ve seen the movies. You find Benedict Cumberbatch attractive. You have never read The Hunger Games, but you know the general theme. You live in an apartment in a big city. You have spent several weeks in a middle-of-nowhere rural area. You hate being late for anything. You suck ass at starting homework before midnight. You would rather have a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances. You’ve had bad luck with earphones. You play an instrument. You’ve never truly filled up an entire notebook. You’ve never fully used up an eraser. Your favorite food is Italian. You’ve tried Indian food before, and loved it. You spend ages picking out clothes to wear. You wash your hair in the shower first. You know a language besides English. You sometimes get random “pissed off” moods. You will never turn down a bite of ice cream. You don’t like Hawaiian pizza. You have been to/lived in New York City. You prefer the East Coast over the West Coast. You have slept for almost 24 hours straight. You don’t get sick often. You’re unhappy with the way you look. You have a friend that used to be/still is depressed/suicidal. You love fruits AND vegetables. Your favorite fruit is apples. You have a Macbook. You go to a school with lots of couples. You know who Savannah Montano is. You have an unhealthy obsession with Joseph Gordon Levitt. You have a very messy desk. You tend to leave your clothes out all day. You play a lot of Temple Run. You like the Chicken Soup For The Soul books. You have managed to pull off a good grade for what you didn’t study for. You have never pulled an all-nighter. Your favorite subject in school is Psychology. You plan to go to college in the U.S, or stay in the U.S if you’re there. You have at least one strange/unusual pet peeve. You’re athletic but not many people know it. You have 2000+ songs in your iTunes. You sometimes dwell too much on the past. You have failed a test before.

Bold What Applies To You!

You’re 16. You are not from North America/Europe. You’re not considered skinny, but you’re not fat either. You listen mostly to Indie music.  You wear a particular ring every day. You have recently been sunburned. You have a younger brother. Your parents are still together. You have never been kissed. You have never been on a date. You hate most people at your school. You visit Bzoink often to take surveys. You do not drink or smoke. Your parents are over protective. You eat way too much. You always have at least 10 tabs open on your internet browser. You collect pictures from tumblr. You are left handed. Your favorite author writes crime/thriller/mystery novels. You go to church every Sunday. You have never broken a bone. You have an iPod Touch/Nano/Shuffle. You own an iPad/Kindle. You still have a few of those rubber bracelets with sayings on them. You have been through a lot of “friend drama”. You know someone that continuously acts cute for attention. You actually like to read. You are a Potterhead. You have never read the Twilight series, but you’ve seen the movies. You find Benedict Cumberbatch attractive. You have never read The Hunger Games, but you know the general theme. You live in an apartment in a big city. You have spent several weeks in a middle-of-nowhere rural area. You hate being late for anything. You suck ass at starting homework before midnight. You would rather have a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances. You’ve had bad luck with earphones. You play an instrument. You’ve never truly filled up an entire notebook. You’ve never fully used up an eraser. Your favorite food is Italian. You’ve tried Indian food before, and loved it. You spend ages picking out clothes to wear. You wash your hair in the shower first. You know a language besides English. You sometimes get random “pissed off” moods. You will never turn down a bite of ice cream. You don’t like Hawaiian pizza. You have been to/lived in New York City. You prefer the East Coast over the West Coast. You have slept for almost 24 hours straight. You don’t get sick often. You’re unhappy with the way you look. You have a friend that used to be/still is depressed/suicidal. You love fruits AND vegetables. Your favorite fruit is apples. You have a Macbook. You go to a school with lots of couples. You know who Savannah Montano is. You have an unhealthy obsession with Joseph Gordon Levitt. You have a very messy desk.  You tend to leave your clothes out all day. You play a lot of Temple Run. You like the Chicken Soup For The Soul books. You have managed to pull off a good grade for what you didn’t study for. You have never pulled an all-nighter. Your favorite subject in school is Psychology. You plan to go to college in the U.S, or stay in the U.S if you’re there. You have at least one strange/unusual pet peeve. You’re athletic but not many people know it. You have 2000+ songs in your iTunes. You sometimes dwell too much on the past. You have failed a test before.

[the-firebird69]

There's a huge number of things going on basically the announcement has caused people to check with their leaders and see what's going on. And the consensus is that they're leaving and evacuating to the south and west of the United States and taking their stuff with them it's not a ton of hardware it's like 1/3 of one of the attacks on New Vegas but it is a sign that they're leaving they will have no defenses and they'll have to leave they have only moments to decide to tell their people or not that's not true but it would help a lot and they're kind of fussing around with it. They're thinking if they're still here then it'll be easier to get their hardware out and the people don't like that and they're beginning to leave

-sales of homes skyrocketed over the past 20 minutes. They were hovering around 4.5% and now they're at 3.5% remaining only for houses and that includes duplexes but they're not rented. At this rate by 8:00 p.m. they'll be sold all of them to the three parties before said mentioned. They are also vacating the campgrounds and taking campers and trailer with them including like double wides and things like that they're cutting them in half and sealing them up and moving very fast by the way they said it has to be all out tonight at the latest midnight and they're gassing up they're fueling up they're having people check their axles and the brakes on their campers and they're doing it themselves and the greasing it if able to a lot of them are closed but they have to check and it's a big movement 1.5% is huge that's about what it is but there are campers everywhere and we didn't include it because of the pain and they're parked on their friend's yard or the family's yard the clans yard most likely and that's another 2% of the population those guys are packing up and it almost kind of packed up but they're moving stuff out of the house and all over Florida Georgia Alabama and anywhere on the East Coast no they're basically just vacating Florida and the surrounding areas these toast they think they're going to storm from the Midwest and upper Midwest and they have a plan and yeah these people are anus they don't they're heinous they don't account for people who are alone and afraid and powerful and it's really a flaw they don't they don't check capabilities at all so they're going to leave and then tonight no they're trying to move their stuff out now it's kind of hard because everyone can see it but that's the way it goes and really you can't really see it even Stan and you can't see that coming across and I didn't it's right at the ocean and really you can only see it from shore 10 miles away and he knows that and they're moving out and Tommy Allen too is the stuff is out of sight and miscellaneous they're all over the place now they're mostly in Miami and they move that stuff all the time it's not big and it is a sign and they're leaving and the Sun is going to be stuck here foreigners and us and Max and the clones will be in and out and yeah you need to hear this clones you're going to be shocked and you're going to try and bring stuff and you're not you don't have it you don't have a fleet they're going to take out the rest of your fleet cuz you're cocky and can't get it that you will and we're going to hit you too we hate you your imbeciles and you should leave like these people are we can hear you snickering and saying dumb s*** when the max were hauling people off and us in the foreigners to the furnace and you're just stupid

Thor Freya

Wow these people are dumb I noticed that too these people kind of stupid but holy s*** these clones are idiots he says they've been trained in brainwashed that's the way it goes and I understand that from birth but holy cow it's weird

Mac Daddy

Olympus

It's very odd but we're kind of grateful it changes happening it needed to and we are preparing

Hera

We have a lot of stuff going all over the world and it is pretty meaty and we're going to be okay but we got to move out right now I'm sending in suggestions to Olympus immediately

Frank Castle hardcastle

We waited for this day but now it's time to be real men and women and we have to face what we did before and a lot more sternly these toddlers are going to get burned out pretty quick and that's the clones

Duke nukem Blockbuster

We need our foreigners in right now we're going to have a meeting and we mean other races other than us who are mostly here

Thor Freya

We do have people but not enough and they want us to move in and he knows how and we think maybe barge is from Brazil and bring it apartments and this contracts for a whole bunch of them and we can bring what we can put them in place

Uriel and Goddess Wife

It's a good idea

Mac

I'm going to sit and meet about it right now we have a whole bunch of ideas like that

Bitol and Goddess Wife

[sh4m]

For those wondering, I live on the East Coast of Australia, this might help make things make sense later.

~

Watching the clips circulating from the Oscar's has lead me to look back on some things and have to come to terms with others.

Like how when I was younger I wanted to he an actor, not the big, well known silver screen kind, but the stage kind, the kind that only certain people knew about, but still cared enough to give a shit about.

No, this wasn't because of Hamilton, it was because of things like Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake piece, the one everyone knows, and Shakespeare, and this one scene from some kind of Cirque du Soleil-esq show where these two men are trying to give this woman on a balcony a rose, so they stack these chairs and tables and other things too, they stacked them up so high!

Just to give her a rose.. it was a while ago like maybe when I was 7 years old that I watched it at like midnight with my parents when i definitely should have been sleeping..

I did plays in high school and the drama teachers would always tell me about workshops and different shows that were on, and the shows would be amazing! And because it was usually a matinee with other schools, the actors and crew would let us ask questions and give advice and tips at the end of the performance!

My mother, however, wasn't too supportive. She would tell me that it was a waste of time and that the other people were better than i was, so I didn't go to the workshops and after a while I stopped asking if I could.

So I stopped trying to be on stage, and tried to do different things. I did art, music, sport, writing, I read more books, I played video games, and I started playing dungeons and dragons to try and make me feel better.

She didn't take me wanting to be a singer and a musician kindly either.

But working in around that kind of entertainment is addictive in a way, the lights, the stage, the thrill of getting it all perfect.. it's not something that can be forgotten either.

So I changed my craft! I started working doing tech and backstage stuff, I would haul around props and and set up stages, rig lights and sound, run cables all around the school hall, and sit in the wings during every performance and watch as it all came together.

And I was happy with that! Hell, I'm even doing a certificate course so I can do it professionally, any thing from live entertainment and music festivals to awards shows!

And then I saw all the speeches from the awards that Everything Everywhere All at Once won, and it made me remember something that I blocked out from one of the shows I acted in.

At the end, when everyone was leaving and people were saying the whole 'oh, you were so good!' to the cast, only a few non POC audience member that wasn't a teacher that I knew personally or a friend of mine said that I did a good job, nor to my Middle Eastern friend that was on stage the entire show. All the congratulations and 'good jobs!' that we got were majority from people of colour, people that looked like us.

I remember talking to the one of the leads after with their parents.. their parents didn't know I was in the play until the lead, a friend of mine, introduced me to them.. we had meet like 3 times before then.

After helping pack some things up and grabbing my stuff to leave with my dad, the music teachers stopped us to say that I did a good job and to chat too. One was a white, young, gay man, who everyone at the school loved and the other was a small, old, Asian woman, she was my first music teacher and the vocal ensemble teacher, I remember her asking what I wanted to do after school and when I said acting she asked if I wanted to do the film kind.

When I said I wanted to do stage acting I remember her eyes light up with excitement, and looking back what looked like hope.

I never had the heart to tell her that I gave up before moving to a new high school.

The Oscar's made me realised that I lost my chance to be under stage lights and that now I'll only ever be behind them. It made me grieve something I never had for the past 4 hours. I sarted crying about this at around 4am, it's 7am right now.

Now I've slowly come to terms with it, and have to leave for school in an hour, and funnily enough I have my entertainment course today as well.

We're doing our stage lighting module this term.

[steamishot]

eventful

life feels busy recently - last wednesday i hopped on a plane to SF. i was able to connect to the free wifi on jetblue and study/work on the plane. took a 1.5 hour BART ride by myself to meet G in pittsburg. G & D and doggie M live a very quiet life. G likes to operate with no music or sounds in the background. they also live in a very surburban area, where there isn’t much to do in their town. i was his sous chef haha. the stay there was completely peaceful and like a reset from the bustling NYC. by the second or third day, i got pretty bored and missed the city life. i always day dream about living in a quieter town when i am in NYC, but i don’t think i can actually stand being away from the city for too long. 

i met up with G & S at the start of presidents day weekend. i first met up with S and we stopped by for gas and some groceries before heading out to pick up G. then we went to a brunch spot afterwards and met up with L momentarily. we checked out muir woods, checked into the airbnb, and got bbq for dinner. the next day was more eventful. we got to ride horses around a vineyard. i didn’t expect to be scared, but i was quite anxious getting on the horse and being on the horse (my first time ever). it was similar to the feeling i had when i was snowboarding for the first time. they said horses are able to feel the human’s energy, and to try and deep breathe so they also remain calm. we checked out castello di amorosa and had a very nice dinner afterwards. 

that night, we were preparing to sleep early. G had got a last minute flight back to LA that departed at 7am. we were planning on heading out at 4am. matt called me that same night and asked me to stay on the phone with him in case he fainted. he was having extremely bad stomach pain, profusely sweating, and almost fainted on the way from the bed to the couch. i stayed on the line with him for about an hour until he seemed okay. i checked in with him at 4am PST and he was still feeling horrible. i called an uber to take him to the ER and subsequently bought a ticket back to NYC on our drive to the airport thinking it was very serious and he may have to be hospitalized. my flight to LA wasn’t until 1, so the timing worked out perfectly and i had bought a return flight to NYC for 8am. 

got to SFO, G went to american airlines, and i headed towards delta. checked my bag in. then matt tells me maybe i don’t have to go and he’ll be fine to fly out to LA as planned the next day. so, i backtrack to hunt my checked bag in. cancel my flight (that was purchased via ecredits, so i got all the credit back), and hung out at the airport/lounge until my original flight.

the next day (tuesday), my east coast bestie S&I were visiting from NYC and wanted to hang out. i got to see them for a couple hours and show them around my neighborhood/let them meet my family and baby niece before they had to go to the airport. it was nice that our paths got to cross in LA!

tuesday night, i took a nap and headed out to LAX to pick up matt whose flight landed around midnight. we spent the night at my brother’s house. he was still in a lot of pain/scared of passing out, but did not want to let his parents know and have them worry. wednesday, we spent the day at my brothers. my parents came over and made chicken rice dinner. my bro, SIL and baby were flying out to cambodia that night for a 3 month long trip. matt’s condition was still worrying so i texted his dad to let him know that he might need to get checked out at a hospital again. they freaked out and called me immediately. 

thursday, went to the DMV and got my licensed renewed - will be getting a real ID. the process took longer than i thought even though i had an appointment. took my parents out to eat american food using the app inkind $25 off $50 - using the hacks i learned in NYC here. 

friday, went to get a physical at kaiser and my blood drawn. i hate blood draws but it was ok. i have elevated LDL. this, along with matt’s health scare, will hopefully force us to change our diets/lifestyle. he’s forced to eat healthier now, we’ve basically been having “cheat” meals everyday. i hope he can also cut out coffee because he has been relying on an insane amount to get by. 

this week’s weather has been odd. raining all week minus sunday.