#that last question can easily turn into a long rant and maybe one day i'll publish it lol

[clericofshadows]

17, 30 & 50 for OC questions (Regis of course!)

thanks for the ask :D

17. How easily would they be convinced to do something that goes against their morals?

Not easily, Regis would be figuratively (and likely literally as well) kicking and screaming to get out of the situation. His general attitude during ME2 was a good example of this; he finds working with Cerberus one of the worst things due to all he discovered in ME1, and every day he's on that ship feels like he is betraying himself and the life he got back. It helps that he has Zaeed and knows his motives for joining, but Regis definitely went off on Joker and Chakwas when he found out they deserted the Alliance to join Cerberus for him.

30. If they had the chance to be famous would they take it? If they are famous would they rather they weren't?

Regis is quite conflicted with his fame. On one hand, he has long since embraced the Butcher of Torfan title and what it represents. He knows what he is and what he can do, and honestly, he's okay with that. On the other hand, he never really wanted the Spectre position due to how utterly powerful it can make him in the grand scheme of things. So, I would say Regis is fine with his fame to an extent, but the events of ME3 causes him to wear quite thin, and he's not above chewing other leaders out for more of less placing most of the front lines and essential negotiations on him because he's Shepard and he must be able to do everything, right? But he's also willing to leverage his fame and his title when necessary, so... Regis likes when things benefit him, but for him the Spectre title was a little too far. He stays with the Spectres after the war despite this because of how important he is as the first human Spectre, but he's still not happy with it.

50. What is your favorite thing about them?

aw geez I love and hate this question because I can talk so much about it. I say this as someone who sculpted and edited textures and made mods for the damn guy, but damn am I proud of his in game appearance. I am so proud of myself for being able to just fireup the game, and take screenshots and make scenarios involving Regis and his lovers and his friends, and it's fucking great!

Modding aside, my other favorite thing about him is that he's become a way of presenting an alternative shepard path that may not be the popular one, but I don't care because I love it. He doesn't like Garrus, Liara is damn near his enemy number one after ME2 AND he does her mission last in ME1, he saves both Kaidan and Ash on Virmire and considers them his closest companions, he has casualties during the suicide mission and while he does eventually become civil with Miranda and Jacob, he never really lets his walls down around them, he's not afraid to talk back and he chews out the Asari for thessia and all the 'blame' that's put on him, and so on. He's an angry, judgmental, stubborn, and passionate boy that's full of love for the few people he trusts and lets in and I just adore him. And recently, I've added Zaeed to his endgame relationship and I'm enjoying the hell out of that ;)

[wafflesetc]

*Long negative rant ahead - sorry if you decide to read this, let alone post it*

There's just way more questions than answers now. Let's hypothetically say they decide to write the divorce route (cries). Jay's in a different country. There's no possible way he doesn't have a say in that, yet we'd only ever see/hear it from Hailey's side. The Jay that we know would never agree to that without a fight. Then there's all his stuff and their apartment. Would they just haul it all into storage until he comes home? - but then if he came home, why couldn't they work on things together - Hailey would have to find yet another place to live, and season 11 would (I fear) become Upstead divorce era and Hailey trying to find herself again without him just to give her a significant storyline to fill a season. And for what, yet more trauma. More abandonment for her. More storylines that are just hit after hit, just for the hell of it, all because if lazy writing. They could've done this all SO differently and very easily, they could've done SO much more with what they had/have, and it certainly wouldn't have pissed off the fandom like it has.

Unless they can magically turn this around in the final episode and Jesse's 'trust the process' did actually mean something, I can't see how they can make this work without digging themselves into a deeper, more ridiculous and a more discouraging hole - for us and for them.

I really do feel for Tracy and Jesse. Watching these writers and showrunners burn this ship to the ground for no justified reason must be gutting! All these years of hard work, one of the best slow burn relationships I think I've ever seen on TV.... to just do this.

Sorry for (negatively) venting in your ask box! 😬 - And on the off chance you do read though this scroll, thank you in advance for taking the time 💙

This is a few days late in being answered because I have been traveling for work an insane amount. Please don't apologize about the length, I don't mind the longly worded asks. They are fun to read and engage with people, regardless of opinions and thoughts!

Also, your thoughts and feeling surrounding all of this are completely valid. I also agree with you, almost on every level of this.

I was talking to a friend and it feels like every time they add another layer to this whole plot line, it only leads to more questions and not answers. I don't know if that is intentional or if they are just sort of half-assing things and hoping they make sense to the fans.

Eventually, even if things are "over" for now, it's going to lead to more painful things for Hailey rather than any kind of "closure." With the trend PD has been going, it also wouldn't shock me if they do all of that within the whitespace of season 10 and season 11 and the next time we see her next year, she's in a new place and it's just Hailey.

As for rectifying it - it's TV so literally anything is possible. With the route they have chosen, I have a small inclination Tracy might be staying at least one more year. If that's the case and season 11 is her last one, (or whenever she decides to leave), I could very much see them bringing Jay back for a couple episodes and fixing them and having them off screen together. It's possible and been done on other shows before. It's not a secret that Hailey (since she's the one on screen) has been the writer's priority - not Jay/Upstead.

If we are hurting, my assumption is that Tracy and Jesse are also hurting, probably in more ways than even we realize and can understand. I truly think that Tracy meant it when she said #UpsteadForever and maybe I am delusional, but I'll hold on to that until I see Hailey Upton's final scene, whenever that might be.

[www-artforoddballs]

Alright, so notice. Most of you probably know this, since you're following me for the Autistic Levi stuff (thank you, we're closing in on 100 followers!!!!), but people with autism can have "tantrums". I've kinda touched on this in a previous post (it's a full meltdown, but you can see that post here https://www-artforoddballs.tumblr.com/post/644803780958879744/autistic-levi-angstkinda-i-guess-this-is-him). For those of you who DON'T know, an autistic tantrum is not the same thing as what you'd think of in regards to a toddler or kid, it's just the word used for it. This is a mistake my mother and I made when getting the paperwork done while I was going through testing that later got cleared up lol

I had a tantrum yesterday, and so I figured that I could post about Leviathan having a tantrum, since it's still ready on my mind. I don't care if anyone else is proud of me for coping with it as well as I did, since it's a major improvement from last time I had one, but I am proud of myself!...with that in mind, here we go!!

There will be some angst in this post, like the last post in relation to this one, but like the last post, it turns out fine.

However.

Trigger warning for things such as self harm, both physical and verbal. If you or a loved one is self harming, either reach out to someone for help or reach out to that person to help, yeah?

OK on with the post.

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

First of all, Levi's autism is part of why his brothers always agree to help when there's a raffle for tickets or something like that on the DDD messages, because he can get overwhelmed if they don't at least help, even if he doesn't win in the end.

They figured out that his autism was the culprit for this shortly after his diagnosis.

Now when I'm writing for Levi, I like to think that his diagnosis was around the early 1990s since, while autism was a separate diagnosis in 1980, it didn't really start becoming fairly accepted and expanded upon until 1987. Hence why everyone is mostly used to it by now, but are still sometimes off put by his odd behavior; for them, as beings that have been around since...the beginning of the universe, pretty much as far as we know, but for at LEAST since humans were around (so at VERY least 2.5 million years now, but potentially up to around 7 million years (if they haven't been around since the beginning of creation)), this would be like...I dunno, give me a second.

Waiting

Waiting...

Okay, so from 1990(earliest year I have in mind) to 2019 (the year it was released) is 29 years. That's a minimum of 1/86,206.89th of their lifespan, and a maximum of 1/475,862,068.96th of their total lifetime.

So this is a VERY recent development for them on the grand scheme of things, but I digress.

So they're still figuring everything out, especially as the human race continues to learn about the condition itself.

So the first time Levi threw a tantrum and they recognized it for what it was...it was certainly interesting.

What had happened was exactly the situation described; Levi had wanted to go to a concert in the human world and they were raffling off free tickets. Except, unlike now, his brothers hadn't offered their support. They hadn't in the past, why would this time be any different?

Except now they viewed it through a different light. Leviathan had an image in his head that he desired so badly and had asked his brothers to support him, hopeful, only to be rejected at every turn. That he was used to, but it was still upsetting.

He put that to the side, though. He really wanted to see this band, and these were VIP tickets where you got to hang out with the band for a few hours after the concert! They'd cost a LOT of human money, and while they COULD afford it, he knew Lucifer would be bringing hell down upon him if he used that amount of family funds on a concert. And his anxiety was already somewhat raised, so he decided to enter the raffle on his own.

He sat there for hours, waiting for the results to come in. He'd hyped this up in his brain the entire time; He'd win, go to an amazing concert, have dinner with the band, maybe even make some friends....!...and then the results came back. He hadn't won.

As per usual, our snek boi went into one of his rants about how unfair it was, but instead of going on a rampage or something like that, locked himself up in his room and cried, hating himself for getting so excited over nothing.

As I mentioned before, I've made another post about a tantrum/getting too overwhelmed slipping into something even more dire, as that's almost always what happens to me. This would be in the 90s, so this would be their first real incident with one of these moments where they had the proper diagnosis, so bear with me, there will be some angst here, but like the other post, it'll be fine.

So Mammon ends up feeling bad for rejecting his little brother, and, not knowing it was too late, decided to go to his room and offer his support. It was almost Leviathan's birthday anyways, and Mammon knew how rejection felt and how much it sucked. So, he knocked on Leviathan's door.

No response. He knocked again...still no response, but a quiet sob.

Right away, Mammon switched from semi-carefree to worried. "Levi...?"

Again, no response. He decided to just go in and check on his brother...

The door was locked. And he smelled blood.

"Leviathan, I need you to open the door," Mammon said with a half hearted chuckle, his voice now becoming slightly strained. "Because if ya don't, I'm gonna have t' break the door down."

"Just go away!" Leviathan cried from inside his room. "Just leave me alone, you jerk!"

"I ain't goin' anywhere. Either open the door or I'm gonna break it down. Those are your two choices."

A moment of silence, before Mammon sighs, stretching, as he transforms into his demon form.

"Alright, option two it is."

He rammed into the door repeatedly, before the wood finally splintered and fell to the ground with a loud thud. Mammon quickly looked around, eyes widening as he saw Leviathan digging his own sharpened nails into his arms, multiple raked wounds, made by the same culprit, carved into his skin.

"Levi...look at ya..." Mammon said, voice faltering, tears welling up in his eyes. "I...how long has..."

"Just shut up! Don't act like you care about me, I'm the freak of our family, remember?! I'm the one whose brain isn't right, I'm just a shut-in, good for nothing, re-!"

He was quickly cut off by Mammon going to him and hugging him.

"I don't care who you are. You talk about my brother like that again and I'll kill you. Alright? You're a little off, but you ain't a freak, and your brain works just fine as is. You're perfect just the way you are, and if anybody else says any different, I'm gonna beat them the fuck up. Including you. Got that? So what if you've got that fancy lable on ya now...? Labels like that matter, but it didn't change ya. You're still my cringe, annoying as hell little weirdo of a brother...and I wouldn't have ya any other way."

Leviathan fully listened to Mammon talk, before clinging to him, breaking down sobbing again, and trying to explain what happened through his tears, the older demon gently rubbing his back and allowing him to cry it out, making sure no more harm was done.

A while later, once Levi had calmed down, Mammon ruffled his hair.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? Lucifer is already gonna kill me for breaking your door, but he'd be even more pissed if I just left you here with those wounds."

So they did. And Mammon, after telling a VERY angry Lucifer what had happened hours later, had surprisingly NOT gotten chewed out by the eldest brother. Instead, that day, the entire family had a long discussion, and they all agreed that if it was something as small as entering a raffle, or even if it was bigger but not an inconvenience to anyone in the slightest, they'd all help out from then on. It's not like it was hard, and it would save Levi from hours of stress and negativity toward himself and others around him.

They also made a plan for if a tantrum were to happen while someone was around, or if he became too overwhelmed and started to spiral...because, as annoying as he could be, Leviathan was still family. And they loved him, oddities and all.

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

Alright, so...that was the post! I hope it was okay. I know I've written about this type of thing before a little, but different situations can end up with the same negative outcome, like being in an overwhelming situation, or not being able to change your thinking and not easily being able to get over your expectations. I've personally suffered with both, and it's a regular thing for me, so I like writing about it, because maybe, just maybe, it'll help someone out, or help someone that isn't autistic understand a friend or relative or classmate or employee better. And I love these characters, I really do. The only ironic thing is that I see so much of myself in Leviathan, but I adore him and despise myself. Go figure 😂

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed, and if there's anything you guys have questions about (in regards to me and my experience), or any specific writing requests, asks are fully open!

Thanks so much for being here to support me, you have no idea how much it means to a little oddball such as myself.

[ddaehyeon]

。✧ hyacinth; park serim + reader

— pairing: fashion designer!park serim + photographer!reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, exes au, post-breakup, slightly suggestive (one scene only!)

— word count: 7.1k

— warning: arguments, heartbreak, mentions of anxiety and emptiness

— summary: years had passed since you broke up with serim; life had been continuously patching up ever since. his name had marked several clothing lines, while your studio was well-known in the small city you lived in. who would’ve known that a sight of him on a bus stop would be enough to bring back wounds you thought had long ago healed?

— navi: playlist | video teaser | cravity masterlist

— a/n: my wips suffered from a major slump and this is quite an overdue fic (i also have another overdue fic help) but i hope someone would still at least read this though >< the first ver of this didn't satisfy me and though this ver didn't satisfy me that much, i feel like after rewriting almost half of the fic, this one's better. i'll do my best to pull something better soon!

autumn must be the most magical part of the year. the leaves experiencing a color alteration, scarlets and golds carpeting the ground— a yearly harvest of the earth where everything was gradually being taken away. long gone was the heat of the summer; the chilly evening breeze sure was much friendlier than of winter. the season served as a comforting quilt. it was such a great time for warm drinks that could lift up the mood even for the wariest.

you let go of a breath as you stared at the window, the sun was setting. the color fleshed out in the sky golden, jiving well with the surrounding that was already of the same palette. with an indoor shoot for a seasonal issue of a magazine, it sure was a tiring day. the sound of camera clicks still ringing in your head, along with the hushed talks and chitchats coming from the staff members and the models.

at first, you were hesitant to accept the project. afraid that you’d bump by one of the renowned fashion designers in your region, park serim. but then, you couldn’t just chicken out when a hefty sum was to be paid. the relief you had when you saw that his name wasn’t on the list of designers was almost the same kind of relief you'd have after preventing big trouble from occurring.

“i finished placing back the props in the room.” hyeongjun’s voice was still as bright as it was this morning as if not touched by any fatigue. he was one of the photographers you hired in your studio, offering only fine shots. “i’ll be going home early, just send me a message about what time tomorrow’s shoot will be!”

“thank you, junie.” a smile was on your brim as you nodded on his words, watching him pack his camera and leave afterward.

silence melted in the room as soon as hyeongjun stepped out. alone in your photography studio, you sat on a stool used earlier by one of the models. the room was dimly lit with only one of the umbrella lights open. it was only by then that you realized your thighs were already stiff from the nonstop work earlier. you wanted to go home and just be in the comforts of your bed.

pulling out your phone, you dialed your brother’s number, frowning when it took him quite a while to pick up. was he busy or did he just forget that he was supposed to pick you up tonight?

jungmo would always fetch you by your studio after his working hours concluded. with the two of you living together in the same house, your brother just found it ideal— bringing you to your work every morning and giving you a drive home every evening. it might seem like he was babying you, but it was a gesture you grew fond of.

“y/n?” jungmo gasped on the other line. it seemed like he was outside, music playing in the background which mingled well with the peals of laughter. “shit, i forgot to tell you.”

you raised a brow, questioning his words. “what’s the matter?”

“can’t fetch you today.” you can already envision the pout he had on his lips. “i’m at a party with allen and woobin, catching up with my colleagues. i’ll make it up to you tomorrow, i promise!”

“alright. i’ll just ride the bus then.” it was your turn to purse your lips. you can’t bring yourself to complain about it though. “have fun! just stay in woobin’s apartment tonight, don’t drive!”

“i will, i will,” jungmo replied, a call of his name following. his friends might’ve been looking for him already. “text me alright? get home safely, y/nie.”

at the end of the phone call came another sigh from you. a tightlipped smile braced your lips as you stood to turn off the remaining lights. you retrieved your camera and placed it back in one of the drawers. making sure everything was back to its place, secured; you gave the place one final look. something you’d do every single day before going home. a reminder of the thing you loved the most. a reminder of what could have been.

the sidewalk wasn’t as empty as you imagined it to be, maybe you weren’t used to walking to the bus stop anymore. strangers of different day occurrences exchanged various looks that shared one same element, tiredness.

when the wind blew, fallen leaves danced along with it. the slight coldness making you tuck your hands inside the pocket of the cardigan you were wearing. you loved the cool breeze, but not when you knew you had to stay out on an open shed with it as your companion. cold weather could be your friend, a company for a better evening sleep. but rather a harsh fellow when you had to be alone, when loneliness can easily be injected to your senses.

tracing the path, a memory went to play in your head. way back in college, this was the same sidewalk you’d walk in with your ex-lover. a camera on your hand while he had a roll of satin in his arms. it was such a usual view for the two of you as you talked about how the day went, ranting about the monotonous lectures, gushing over how you missed each other’s company and how you wished that the two of you could get back to your shared apartment as soon just so you can snuggle on the couch.

you glanced at the sky, the cloud hiding the few scattered twinkling stars. a faint smile spread upon your lips, only to disappear when your gaze went back to the bus stop. the male that passed by in a form of fleeting memory earlier was standing right in front of you as if fleshed out from your mind. a lavender-colored paper bag was hanging on his arm, the logo of his product line delicately stamped on the middle. his phone was resting on his other hand, if he was scrolling through sns or texting someone, you weren’t sure.

the magical feeling he used to offer long gone, your stomach twisting into several knots. a cold sensation went down in your spine as a familiar tug came to pull your heartstring. he’s back? what is he doing here? he lives here again?

your thoughts were loud in your head, but none of it was pulled out loud. each word ending up as a lump in your throat. the air was thickening, your heart beating fast, not out of excitement, but out of the clashing thoughts that left you so nervous and confused. it had been years, how come a single sight of him made you feel like all your resolutions are gone? how did a single sight of him become enough to shatter the glass that protected you from the ache that night had caused you?

it was cold. but no, it was no longer because of the autumn breeze.

“serim?” the name was uttered in the same way you would before everything came crashing, yet it held a much weaker tone. you can’t even remember the last time your voice came to wrap around the syllables of his name.

the male turned his head to look at you, a brow raised as he stared at you. no obvious emotion, his eyes held no recognition.

and his reply? it sent a shiver down your spine, your stomach flipping in a horrendous manner.

“who are you?”

for a moment, the air caused such a nauseous feeling— thin and hard to inhale. it was only three words, yet it was powerful enough to serve as a punch in the gut.

how can he forget?

how can he forget how the two of you first met?

not that it was a very momentous event, just a regular struggle faced by two college students that needed someone else to accomplish a project for a major subject. there were no butterflies involved, nor did sparks fly the moment you met. regardless, up until now, that day burned fresh in your mind.

“i know someone from that department,” woobin said without even looking at you, his eyes focused on his book. though you weren’t sure if he was really paying attention to the words written there as he kept on diving in the conversation every now and then.

“and who might that be?” the dreadful task of having to pair up with the design department had been inhabiting your mind ever since it was given to you. pressure rising as you saw your other blockmates having no hard time getting themselves out there and communicating with the department they weren’t really accustomed to. you still have a month and a half, you were sure you can still make it. it was just a photoshoot anyway, featuring your partner’s designs.

“park serim,” woobin finally answered as if he had to think hard of the person’s name. “i think no one had asked him to become their partner, he’d be available to do it.”

desperate to get over with the task, later that day, you found yourself by the catwalk the design students would take. it was a path that connected their building to the main gate directly. your building wasn’t exactly far away from theirs, but still of a different building. with their building equipped with supplies and machineries for final products, yours were of computers, lightings, and screens.

you stared at your phone, his instagram profile opened. earlier, you already took the pleasure of checking his works out and without much filtering, him as well. he sure does love taking pictures of himself; something that could work perfectly with him being your subject. once satisfied, you left him a dm that was probably one of the most awkward sentences you had ever typed in the entirety of your life.

a notification popped out as you look at your screen, which was shortly followed by another. it was only of common courtesy to follow him before asking him for a favor right? you did that before messaging him and now he followed you back and replied to your dm. unlike you, he didn’t spend much time wandering in your profile. well, as if he had so much to look unto aside from the sceneries and some stories posted.

‘you were the person woobin was talking about? i’ll be out in two minutes. see you in the catwalk.’

it wasn’t too long of a duration, you allowed yourself to simply jump from a social media to another, mindlessly scrolling and liking some post every now and then. only lifting your head up when a wave of students began getting out of the establishment. most were holding mannequins with unfinished clothing attached to them, some were holding rolls of fabrics you weren’t sure what to call.

with squinted eyes, you tried to look for him among the crowds. woobin said that serim was a fashion design major, so he’d probably be holding the same thing as the other students that came out.

and he was.

leaning on his shoulder was a mannequin, asymmetrically dressed in silk. it wasn’t sewn yet, only supported by sewing pins. an arm wrapped around a roll of what seemed to be linen of pastel blue color. there was also a paper bag hanging on his arm which seemed to have some extra fabric and maybe some other supplies.

you walked towards him with a wave to which he gave you a confused look at first, the frown melting away when he realized that you were the one who messaged him not even an hour ago.

“you’re y/n?” he asked, merely to confirm.

you nodded your head and offered a hand in carrying the paper bag. something he didn’t refuse to. “so…” unsure of how to bring up the means of meeting with him after his class, your voice trailed.

“what do you need anyway?” he supported your words as he traced the path of the sidewalk. “take pictures of me or take pictures of the clothes i make?”

“both.” a chuckle left your lips, laced with nothing but sheer abashment, at the same time mentally cursing this project. you were okay with taking pictures, but the negotiation that comes with it wasn’t a task you were so used to doing.

serim hummed, saying an almost inaudible ‘i see’ before taking a big step and stopping in front of you to do a curt observation. his gaze trailing from toes up to your shoulder. “i’ll agree to do it, if you’ll model for me for a project.”

blinking your eyes multiple times, a baffled frown came to mask your countenance. “what?”

“i need a model that will wear the dress i’m doing by the end of the semester,” serim uttered nonchalantly, proceeding to turn his back to you and resume walking. “that would be quits.”

“i’ll do it,” you said, despite still being hesitant. having close to zero knowledge about how such a presentation would work, you were so close to disagreeing. but then again, it would only be a good way to repay him, right? and perhaps the other fashion design students would ask you of the same thing if you try to team up with them.

turning to look at you, there was a curve that formed on his brim. “that’s a deal then.”

how can he forget how the two of you confessed to each other?

two months. it took two months of random meet ups, daily conversations, and occasional hanging out to get to know each other. the awkward messages of checking up on each other’s side of the project turned to asking about each other’s day, sharing rants about academic life or life in general. the occasional hanging out turning to planned dates and spontaneous ones when the two of you both have the time to spare.

you’d usually stay in his unit as he worked on the dress for his project, a clothing that perfectly suits your figure. late night talks induced by the slightest energy given by coffee the two of you had clung into in hopes of being able to finish what was due.

it seemed like time flew by and before you knew it, you were in the backstage. serim was pacing back and forth, more nervous than you were. he wasn’t the one that was going to the stage, but sure his body was restless.

“are you alright?” you asked him once the two of you were left alone in the dressing room.

this was enough for serim’s movement to come to a halt. even when his eyes landed on you, it was obvious that his mind was floating. in fact, it even took him hot seconds before he was able to commit to a verbal response. “i am.”

“you are?” a smile broke out of your countenance which was eventually followed by a chuckle. “are you sure with that?”

your laughter was adequate to ease his nerves a little, a curve appearing on his lips. “i am.”

one of his classmates who was in charge of the flow came knocking to the door, signalling that you should be on standby.

“i’ll do my best,” you said, walking toward the door. it would be a definite lie to say that you were not at all nervous. a deep breath taken before twisting the knob, stopping when serim called you. it was covered with a bit, yet noticeable hesitation that it made you cock a brow for a moment.

“good luck.” it was all that he uttered, along with a gesticulation of him raising both fists. though serim’s mind spoke of different words, words he had little courage to let go of. at least not yet at that moment.

you gave him a smile, nodding your head afterward. “thank you.”

and off you go.

roaring crowds and camera clicks; the auditorium set up for the use of the fashion design students as they exhibit their works through their chosen models. formerly, you’d find yourself among the crowds, snapping pictures and admiring the clothes done by the other students. but this time, you found yourself clothed in a floral print silk-blend asymmetrical dress designed by serim himself.

the lights were blinding, being always part of the photographers, you were quite accustomed with how you were part of the persons behind the camera lense. serim was in the dressing room, watching the runway from the screen that displayed the live broadcast. some of your friends were among the crowds, your older brother even telling you before the show started that he’d be sure to take pictures of you.

fortunately, the few days of practice didn’t go to waste, no major mistakes happened when you modeled serim’s design. perhaps the only problem was you were a little stiff, something too trivial for some audience to notice.

as soon as you stepped by the backstage, serim’s proud smile welcomed you. unable to rest in the dressing room once he saw you getting out of the stage, he practically ran to meet you behind the curtains.

his eyes were filled with adoration, not just for the dress he finished making, but for the overall beauty you radiated. without much thought, he walked closer to you, soon wrapping you in an embrace. tight, yet gentle.

“you did well, y/n,” serim whispered, not letting go.

a soft chuckle was heard from you, your cheeks burning. “you did well,” you corrected. “please, it’s your design.”

“thank you.” releasing you, a smile lingered on his visage. “i’ll make you a better dress in the future.”

“you don’t have to, but thanks,” you replied before the two of you sunk into silence. regardless of how the surrounding was of heavy music and cheers, peace had found its way to emanate in the dimmed part of the area.

no words spoken, yet feelings poured when serim leaned closer. his lips easily capturing yours enough to make your heart pound in your chest, louder than it did while you were in the catwalk.

serim broke the kiss, his lips still close with yours. his eyes were of another glow when he uttered a set of words, familiar yet foreign. “i love you.”

once again, you were under his spell. soft kiss turning into a sloppy one once he guided you to a more secluded area. it would be such a waste to rip the dress off given that it was an original design, yet as the person who sewn each part of the clothing you were wearing, serim had his way to resolve the small dilemma.

the surrounding was silenced, your body frail under each of his touch, breath taken away, chest heaving. sure, it was a night you won’t be able to forget.

how can he forget about how the two of you practically lived with each other for years?

the exuberance exuded while the two of you carried several boxes into an empty unit you called home. maybe it wasn’t really about the place, but it was who you were with. his arms served as a shelter. his hand caught tears of both happiness and sadness. his lips pressed affection that no one else could offer. everywhere with serim was of comfort, of tranquility— a home.

living with another person, being under a single roof wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to adjust to. throughout the first few months of living together, your head was filled with memories of sheer trial and error as the two of you tried to learn the curves. this included adjusting for each other or at least compromising for what the other likes that the other doesn’t. silly mistakes became such a fond memory.

the smell of burnt food that wafted in the air when the two of you decided to stay on the balcony while cooking dinner. astonished by the stars and the almost endless stories that passed on both lips the meal you were preparing was left neglected. that night, the two of you shared bitter food of dark exterior, quite hard to swallow. but the laughter that filled the house after the incident lifted up each other’s mood. despite the bad-tasting meal, it was probably one of the best dinners you had in that apartment.

it didn’t end there. who would forget about the laundry disaster that rendered one of serim’s white long sleeves saturated with colors you weren’t sure what to call. the mixture of forget-me-not blue and azalea pink stood as the most distinguishable pigment along with the other colors. serim only let out of a chuckle at what occurred, even joking that maybe the two of you could start a business of dying white clothing in such a way.

the best memory thus far was a late-night run by the convenience store when the two of you were chasing a morning deadline. a grumbling stomach that broke the mutual silence the two of you exchanged, along with a suspecting look that ended up with laughter.

“let’s buy some food,” serim suggested, removing the tape measure from his shoulder and settling it to the mannequin.

you hit save on your laptop, the editing could wait for a few minutes.

pulling yourself off the chair, you gazed at him with a smile. it wasn’t a surprise that he had the same beam, as bright as the morning, regardless of how the evening was already crawling onto the whole city. sometimes, you wondered how a simple smile could give you so much energy. what kind of magic does a beam flashed by the person you love hold?

a few snacks picked up by the convenience store; a bag in his hand, your hand on the other as the two of you walked back to your unit. the evening sky and the soft gush of wind amplifying the peacefulness provided by the city. no words were exchanged, yet the silence was enough of a word.

deadlines momentarily escaping the mind as you allowed yourself to be engulfed by his presence. his soft voice breaking the silence, the phrase that left his lips drew a curve on your lips. “i love you, y/n.” you weren’t looking at him, but you could perceive the smile he had. “so much.”

“i know,” you replied.

serim’s steps became slower as he looked at you, waiting for the actual response. with a tilted head and shining eyes that reflected your figure and the street lights, his gaze didn’t waver.

a chuckle left your lips, finding yourself lost in his eyes for a moment. “i love you too, serim.” you squeezed his hand, cueing him to continue walking. “so much.”

sighing out of content, a radiant smile decorated his lips.

at that moment, the two of you wished nothing more but just to be next to each other for as long as life would grant you.

how can he forget about your first anniversary?

it wasn’t grand, just the two of you sitting by the balcony. the bouquet he bought abandoned on the dinner table as the two of you gushed over plans you were sure were realistic enough to be achieved. your eyes twinkling with mirth, a lifetime with him sure was the ideal one you’d want to spend.

“y/n,” despite being just beside you, serim called.

you looked at him with a brow raised, catching his eyes on yours. “mhm?”

a smile simply spread onto his lips before he broke the gaze. his hand seeking for an item inside the pocket of his hoodie, a small box retrieved afterward. there, a necklace sat. the pendant was of a ring that was not entirely decorated with fancy stones, rather a lone blue sapphire stone was on it.

“the pendant is a promise ring,” serim explained before scooting closer to you. his hand reached for the back of your head while the necklace rested on your skin. he locked the jewelry on your neck, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead after.

you were silent the whole time, not because you didn’t like the gesture. but because you were sure words wouldn’t be enough to express the satisfaction and light feeling that was blanketing your heart.

serim had a faint smile as he admired the necklace for a moment. just like you, his heart was in an ocean of peaceful joy. lifting his head to look at you directly, he gave your lips a light peck. “i’ll buy you a better one once we’re ready for it.”

“thank you.” your countenance mirrored the same expression serim had— of joy and serenity. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” serim leaned in for another quick kiss, swift yet lingering. “i can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you.”

the evening droned on and on with the two of you staying by the balcony, exchanging conversations about the future. two hearts in one home, seemingly able to find the path where both can hold each other’s hand. minds filled with dreams where the other can also be spotted. a considerably spacious studio apartment became the foundation of your plans and dreams.

aspirations that soon became the neglected cause of why your relationship with him gradually crumbled down.

how can he forget about your very first fight?

gazes that held no definite emotion, silence that cut through the air— it was all an unfamiliar experience, hard to swallow. something that you weren’t able to forget easily as it was the first time you’ve ever seen serim with such a cold expression.

the coaster of shows on the television had long passed, a few recaps played. something that wasn’t really able to get a hold of your attention. your mind drifting elsewhere and the few notifications appearing on your phone were the only ones that managed to pull you out of your daze momentarily.

“where’s serim?” for the nth time that day, you asked. the room was quiet with only a few chatters from the screen in front of you. the evening was growing older and older, but you haven’t received any message about serim's whereabouts. neither had he sent you a message the whole afternoon.

worried, you opted to stay up and wait for him. even prepared a meal that can be easily heated so he can have something to eat once he arrives in case he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

with the door clicking, you were quick to get off the couch. the faint footsteps signaling you right away.

“you’re finally home,” you said, a smile easily located on your brim. only for it to melt away at the sight of serim’s stern look. his gaze piercing through, enough for chills to trace your spine.

he walked past you, not even offering you the regular hugs and kisses he would do every time he’d arrive. all that was left were cold stares. something you attempted to break. and heck did you regret doing so.

“why haven’t you been answering your phone? have you already eaten?” the worry you had accumulated coming through in waves of questions.

a sigh was emitted out of his mouth as he went to get himself a drink. it seemed like a verbal response was not an option for him since he continued to ignore your questions. at this point, it was as if there was no one else in the room. it was like you weren’t there.

“did something happen, serim?”

a minute. it was all it took for the entirety of your relationship to come to an unknown turn. the curve strange, it crawled to the skin with such a frigid touch enough for your stomach to flip horribly.

“can you give me a break?” serim hissed, a glare shoot in your direction. his voice growing power word after word. your breath was taken away, how can words suffice to make you feel so small? he placed his glass on the sink, the item almost meeting its demise. he turned to look at you once again. “can’t you see, i’m tired?”

“i waited for you.” the words spilled out of your lips, disappointment hugging your tone.

“who told you to wait for me?” serim snarled and before you knew it, you were already standing on the same page. similar expression, different cause. yours were anchored in concern, while his were of fatigue from the whole day of heavy workload. those seemed to have lulled both of your senses, blinding each other.

“oh well, i was just worried about you because you didn’t send me a message the whole afternoon up to this point.”

“do i really need to report my actions to you?”

“no, but you have to at least tell me if you’re going home late.” your voice gradually softened, a tear held back.

no, you can’t cry. no, not in front of him. no.

“i was worried,” you broke out. but it wasn’t enough for his fumes to dissolve. like gasoline poured into flames, each of your replies only intensified the exasperation boiling in his stomach.

“i’m going to rest.” serim sigh was audible as he stormed off to your room, leaving you with tears in your eyes.

a minute.

it only took half a minute for everything to fall out of its order. that fight wasn’t the last one and each passing day, the unit you once called home was stuck with unfamiliarity.

it was no longer a home.

how can he forget about that night?

cold meals by the table had your eyes fixated on them. the date encircled in red, a supposedly special day that turned bitter. different from how you used to spend it before—of laughter and warm touches— serim wasn’t there. he was far too involved with projects that your shared unit only became a short shelter. words were barely exchanged, yet alone gazes. you still sleep on the same bed as him, but no warmth was offered.

you weren’t sure which was better, to continue living with him even if it felt like you weren’t living with him or to have him gone in your life for real. regardless of the turns that occurred, the continuous erosion of your relationship, you couldn’t find it to yourself to let go. still tied by your attachment to the former serim.

a sigh left your lips, desolated gaze trailing on the table. you tried. but it seemed like those attempts were futile. it takes two people’s efforts. you can’t revive a relationship alone.

switching place, you went to the living room and sat by the couch. the place dimly lit by a lone lampshade. the city lights filtering through the window. the air gradually thickened around you, it held your throat in a vice grip. the photographs displayed by the shelves were foreign to you, despite how it was simply you and serim. it was like you were staring at completely different people. smiles had long been taken away, touches had melted, flutters subsided— all that was left was a terrible feeling of helplessness. something that seemed to guide you to nowhere. you were lost.

before, you were sure of how the story was to be written. how the chapters were to unfold. but right now, you weren’t even certain what would be on the next page. it was like the next ones were torn from the spine, gone. oh hell, you weren’t even sure what page you were on right now or if the story was bound to be written in the first place.

serim’s arrival went unnoticed at first. only until you heard the clink of the glass meeting the sink did you turn in his direction. an empty gaze was earned and for some reason you found yourself offering him a faint smile. a small gesture packed in pain that was quick to course through your senses.

sighing had become his way of greeting. dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled look emanated how his work had been weighing him. but your mouth was closed regardless of how you wanted to speak of reassurance and praise. it was strange, the inability to speak of warm words around him. why were you so held by fear?

“serim,” you called, breaking the floating silence.

he looked at you, eyes deep like he was examining a piece of fabric. it was enough for your stomach to churn. the stillness continued after your call. you weren’t sure how to continue it; it was as if his name was unnatural in your tongue. not only was your breath sucked, but also all the possible words had dissipated.

yet again another sigh as he tore his gaze away, stepping towards the bedroom. “i’m so tired, y/n,” he uttered, setting a line for you to not cross onto. “very tired.”

resurfacing on your brim was a smile. your eyes weren’t exactly skillful of lying though as tears soon gathered on it. heart hollowed in emptiness as if a scream would echo on its wall. likewise, your voice decided to betray you— shaking. “serim, i’m getting tired too.”

for a swift moment, serim tried to come up with an answer. but just like you, comforting words seemed to be an unfamiliar language. even aware of how a look would be inadequate, he only stared at you. his eyes don’t speak of words nor radiated comfort— it was vacant. lowering his head, he carded his fingers on his hair before letting go of a breath.

serim finally stepped inside the bedroom.

and that was how the two of you parted ways.

how can he forget about you?

it went on and on in your head, the question continuously striking.

a gush of autumn breeze pulled you out of your daze. serim was still looking at you, his eyes slowly lightening with recognition. a few blinks and he spoke. “oh, wait.” he tilted his head to the side. “y/n?”

you weren’t exactly sure what kind of answer to give, but you gave it your best to offer a faint smile. “yes.”

still— despite how other people were walking on the sidewalk and how vehicles passed by the road, the surrounding seemed to come to a stillness you didn’t ask for. denying and pushing away the feelings you’ve long ago tried to bury and made yourself believe that you’ve healed from only brought a new wave of pain. as if you were its child, sadness came to hug you.

just in time, the bus arrived as if to save you from further drowning in emotions you didn’t wish to engulf you in. to your surprise, serim also boarded in. while you chose to sit somewhere just nearby the driver, he went to the last row.

usually, your rides on the way home were the most relaxing ones. a time to just stare at the window and watch the night spread into the city. it will always be accustomed by jungmo asking you on and on about how your day went and also sharing about how his day went. but your brother wasn’t around for that kind of support right now. and you can’t blame him for it. you can’t blame anyone for this unexpected meeting with the person you never knew you’d ever meet again.

the ride was sickeningly slow, all you wished was to get home and allow your voice to echo in your room. to release the emptiness if it was even possible to empty something that was already vacant. the sky held no comfort. its color dissipated and all that was left was an empty canvas that like a broken record, played memories. it was silly how despite those quick memories popping in and out of your mind, questions still managed to penetrate.

serim was living in another city, why did he ride the same bus? was he to meet his new lover? maybe to meet an old friend?

or did he perhaps mean to meet you? this was a guess you despised. the hope it brought that maybe an answer for all the questions formed that night were to be given tasted bitter in your mouth and offered restlessness in the heart.

an urge to talk to him surfaced, but then you asked yourself why. why would you want to talk to him? for what?

despite being curious about the reason why he left that night, a certain fear crawled onto your senses. the fear of knowing.

what could knowing his reasons possibly bring you?

the time when the two of you loved each other wasn’t of the best timing. two newly graduates seeking career growth, wanting nothing but to achieve various goals. those were dreams drawn with the other person placed as a part of it. however, during the process of achieving those, that same person where the aspiration was rooted gradually disappeared from the mind. the path the two of you promised to take together came at crossroads and you ended up taking something different from what he preferred to go to.

at first, there was a powerful yearning that made the two of you grow more fond of each other. but it was slowly replaced by numbness towards it, making love such a foreign word.

you understood. but it wasn’t something you had fully accepted.

a familiar shed came to flash on the window, your stop nearing. and when the vehicle finally came to a halt, you gave serim a final glance. he was looking at you, not moving from his seat. dismissing the contact, you walked down the bus and began tracing the sidewalk with heavy steps.

disappointment curled into your stomach when you arrived near your house, realizing that the recurring questions will not be answered. however, fate played its game. anxiousness arose when once again you heard your name wrapped around serim’s voice.

you turned to look at him, his lips hesitant to let go of a word.

serim was also in deep thoughts, mind all over the place despite how he already had the resolution to talk to you, not to explain and justify himself, but to apologize for the damage done.

“i’m sorry for that night,” serim began, the initial words already clinging into his chest, weighing down. “i should’ve been more honest with you and trusted you more with my struggles.”

there was nothing serim wanted but to prove himself worthy of you. achieve things that could make you be proud of him and deem him as someone who deserves you. working up to late hours, diving into designs in order to perfect his craft. the thing was, he forgot that you already loved him even when he was simply that serim. that you loved him as park serim.

blinded by the goal, the mean diminished. as he was too caught up with it, he was no longer striding towards it for you, but for himself.

“it was selfish of me to decide for something we both should be deciding for. i left that night thinking it was better that way without even considering how you will feel,” serim continued, his voice weakening. he lifted his hand as if to hold you, but stopped midway. it fell to his side as he breathed in. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.”

“i was hurt, but you were probably hurt as well.” the way those words left your lips ever so calmly surprised you. “it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but i hope we both learned from it.” a smile became evident on your visage. “promise me one thing serim, do not make the same mistake with your future lover.”

“i will not,” serim replied.

both of you never really imagined the end of your relationship and as the page of it was torn years ago, an ending was deemed impossible to earn. closing a book would never be that easy, but some stories were meant to end— yours included.

“also, this is for you.” serim handed you the paper bag he was holding. “i told you years ago that i’ll make you a better dress, and here it is. i figured that i wouldn’t be able to keep the promise laced on the ring i gave you before but i at least want to have one of my promises kept.”

you looked at the item for a moment before turning to serim once again. “thank you.”

“i also want you to know that i truly loved you.”

never at once did you doubt serim’s love for you. the thing about it is that people will grow and know love from a better perspective. know how to best keep it. know how to best show it. but it will not change the fact that back then, you felt that it was love.

serim had a single flaw and that was to hold everything to himself to the point that those created a wide gap between the two of you. the distance far enough that reaching his hand became impossible despite how you wanted to hold him.

and maybe during that time, parting was the best solution. and up to this point, it was too.

“it’s nice seeing you again, serim.”

“likewise, y/n.” a genuine smile crossed his lips. “goodbye?”

“goodbye.”

tonight, you gave him a piece of your heart. it was his, to begin with. whatever he was to do with it— keep it, throw it, crush it— it was a decision for him to make. keeping something that shouldn’t be there would only bring further destruction, it’s way better to have an empty spot in your heart rather than keep a damaged one.

the breeze embraced you. the goodbyes uttered were to serve as a beginning. there were new questions that formed and you knew there were tears that were yet to be spilled. but it was a start. opening a buried wound would never be pleasant, but it was way better to open it yourself than have it bare you.

staring at the newly planted hyacinth in the neighboring flower bed, you let go of a sigh. they will bloom in the spring. and you hoped that you would experience the same.

[benlaksana]

2021

It's been roughly a year and a half since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic here in Indonesia, and I've recently been trying to understand where I'm at. Not physically, as in physical space, but mentally and probably existentially. What is the state of my mind? I am aware that I've become somewhat bitter, my late nights are sometimes riddled with anxiety for what the next day may bring and reoccurring personal-collective grief has at times, and recently more often than I would like to admit, numbed me.

This may probably be my mind's automatic coping mechanism seeing all this death mainly as a result of how my government has failed us, its citizens, especially during a time of crises. And I really need to stress this point: how my government has failed us Indonesians during the times we need it the most and I very much believe that it is because of this why many of us Indonesians are in constant misery and haunted by that feeling of despair. If chronic physical pain causes constant daily anguish, I am not surprised if chronic physical and mental pain caused by structural violence causes persistent misery as well.

I'm somewhat fortunate in this regard, I'm grateful that I've learned ways to keep my sanity in check. My contemplative practice is key for me. Honestly, I wouldn't have gotten far in life without it. I have many people to thank, but Art Buehler especially, my former professor in esoteric contemplative/meditative practices who reminded me and pointed a certain possible direction of where I should head when I sense a lost in my life's direction, is one those I should thank the most. I know this seems like an individualized response to structural oppression, and I don't intend to paint such a picture, but I do believe we need some kind of mental stability to keep on going. To survive if not thrive.

Art sadly passed away in 2019. I received an email about his passing. And come to think of it I never really did allow myself to properly grieve for his passing. I don't know why. To be told through a short concise email that someone you cared for died, without having the opportunity to properly say goodbye feels like that person never really passed away. It is horrible way to end relationships. A sudden cut, nothing finalized, and since goodbyes are relational, now nothing can really ever be concluded. I have to make amends with myself and only with myself. If I said goodbye yesterday, or if I say goodbye today or perhaps tomorrow, will it ever be enough for me?

Life is individual yet also relational. It's good to have friends, family, people that care for you or the odd mix of all three to get you through life. So although I have these array of tools to possibly help get me through life but if the people whom you look for some kind direction is no longer present, I'm just not sure for how long I can maintain it if I'm doing all this by myself. Will a breaking point come to me?

The mind is a fickle thing, and the mind is as strong as its habits. Bad habits, bad mind. Good habits, good healthy mind (no habits, no mind?). They also say that things that might happen, will indeed happen. It is just a matter of time. If so, how will I break? To what extent? For how long? What will change? What will I lose? Will there be something renewed? Will I come out the same person? Will I come out changed but for the worst?

This is one of the things that worries me. That certainty of uncertainty. The certainty of breaking, the uncertainty of when and of its form. Will I explode in sudden exasperation, engulfed in madness? Will it be a quick balloon pop yet a slow descend into meaninglessness? An unabashed diatribe rant towards someone I care? Something that's just a twitter post away from me on actually doing it. Will this be an opening, an opportunity for 'satori', a sudden lift of the 'veil', bringing about comprehension and understanding of the true nature of things? Questions, questions, questions, not much when it comes to answers, is all I have for now. To be hopeful is hard these days and with the wavering hope, very much coming and going like waves, it has become incredibly hard to even retain any semblance of kindness. That is something I do not want to actively become a habit of. Without hope, comes the cold embrace of fatalism that many on the 'left' are guilty of. Clutched by fatalism, empathy becomes harder to come by. I've seen it, and I have felt it.

I know that my eroding sense of hope is connected to my personal dreams. Specifically how it has become very hard to actualize it. Rara and I never really planned on staying in Indonesia for long. I was confident enough, a bit too confident come to think of it, that we will be out of Indonesia by 2021 the latest. A mere 2 1/2 years after our last stay in New Zealand. The plan was for me to continue my studies, getting into a Ph.D. program and of course a scholarship. That was our ticket out. Hoping that we'll be back to our old routine in Wellington, in and out the university's library, my head in books, loving our 'flatwhites' while regretting having too much of it, the usual stint doing some university tutoring, community organizing stuff, lazy gardening, out and about on the weekends tramping around Wellington and if Covid did not happen or/and maybe if my government handled things much, much better I think that would've been the case. Or at least I constantly would like to imagine that would be the case.

Yet here we are still in Indonesia, me struggling to do my Ph.D. through this wretched distant learning, initially in the comfort of my home yet steadily devolving into cabin fever. And Rara with her own struggles trying her best to get back on her feet as an aspiring musician. None of it is going as well as we had hoped for. All this while juggling trying our best to keep ourselves safe and our families and friends safe. Both of us have become direct witnesses how challenging this has been, physically and mentally. Both of us slowly grappling with the continual kick in the gut, the never ending structural absurdity, violently absurd.

That slow grueling realization of how fragile our lives are. Not just existentially. It is existentially precarious yet at the same time understanding that precariousness in many of its aspects is structurally and politically maintained. It is this political construction of precarity, which Isabell Lorey elaborates in her book State of Insecurity: Government of the Precarious, that angers and saddens us the most.

Lorey provides a nuanced approach in unpacking and differentiating this thing called being 'precarious'. The three dimensions of being precarious: precariousness, precarity and then precarization. On precariousness, Lorey draw's on Judith Butler's conceptualization of precariousness which she sees as existential, relational and inevitable. I'll insert my existential philosophy and Buddhist values here, to help me see and more importantly accept the transient nature of life and that impermanence or change is the only constant. Our lives, our bodies are destined to die and wither away. We humans are fragile mortal beings. The loss of life, the loss of one's identity, the loss of everything that makes us, us is unavoidable. It's also a 'relational' thing, as in it is also a shared experience. Everyone will experience it. It is the great equalizer some say.

Then we have precarity. Yes everyone dies, but the process of dying or even the process of grieving someone's death is dependent on what Lorey see as the “effects of different political, social and legal compensations of a general precariousness”. Some die at young age due to starvation, riddled with poverty and disease and have nothing or no one to ease their pain, others die surrounded by family and friends in a well-cared for hospital. Some have days or weeks to grieve, others have to go back to work the next day as she or he have no luxury to stop working even just for a moment and simply grieve. To stop working even for a day draws some closer to the possibility of death for the person or those dependent on the person working. This is the inequality of dying and grieving due to our social hierarchies. How fragile we are, is dependent on those social hierarchies.

And last we have Lorey's third dimension, governmental precarization which is the instrumentalization of insecurity by the government. In other words, the government using the idea and the reality of insecurity as a tool or device to control its citizens. The calculated, deliberate attempt by the government in destabilizing our lives in order for us to be easily governed. Insecurity, be it real or due to perceived constructed fear of insecurity is an effective governing tool. The fear of being labeled "useless and lacking in contribution to the nation-state". The genuine insecurity of not being able to get a job due to the false understanding that it is simply a result of an individual's laziness rather than due to systematic government policies. The deliberate attempt in making our lives constantly insecure, constantly on the edge, without us initially knowing it and when we do come to understand, the blame is on us. It is normalized and it is internalized.

This is not simply a social issue, it is a deeply existential one as well. We Indonesians have very little to make us feel safe at the moment. Covid and the government's response to it has severely limited our movements and it's not simply physical immobility, but also an existential one, the inability to even have the imagination that our lives are actually "going somewhere", towards a forward direction. Perhaps some sort of minute incremental progress, but progress nonetheless. This imagined mobility is what Ghassan Hage calls as "existential mobility" and this immobility suffered by many of us is what he also calls as "stuckedness".

Turning an often momentary or the ephemeral nature of a crisis into something prolonged and perhaps even permanent is another part of the strategy of governmental precarization. Our lives or jobs are always on the line and again coupled with the sick prevailing idea that we only have ourselves to find the solution. The crisis is permanent, we don't know why but we've been told that way, if we fail to overcome it is because of our personal inabilities thus proliferating and intensifying this sense of stuckedness.

Forcing us to accept whatever solution the government-messiah presents us with in order to relieve us from this suffering. From labour laws that normalizes precariousness even more, to oppressive new laws that limits our desire and ability to dissent, to including who or how our enemies are defined, easily accepting who is to blame for all this insecurity we are all suffering.

Be it the long dead Indonesian communists, the Chinese Indonesians and the racist perception of them being "selfish and greedy", the Indonesian Islamists - the kadruns and their conservatism, the "foreign forces" whomever they may be constantly trying to take over Indonesia, anyone or anything is to blame. Anyone but the Indonesian government and its affluent patrons. Insecurity and the fear that rises from it renders many of us easily governable and compliant.

This governmental precarization and this 'stuckedness', which Hage sees no longer as a possibility that may or may not happen but an "inevitable pathological state which has to be endured" is how Rara and I feel at the moment.

Rara and I feel our lives are going nowhere. We feel that our lives are stuck, constantly rotating in a hamster wheel trying our best to overcome our precariousness. No progress, no forward movement, no growth, just trying our best to survive from this sustained uncertainty. It's an awful feeling, paving way to existential dread. We are very much looking forward to moving back to New Zealand as soon as possible but with the conditions right now, that is something I can't even dare to imagine.

And although I am grateful that the weave of our privilege with at many times just pure sheer luck has kept us alive and physically well for the time being, we both now realize that we have hit a proverbial concrete wall here. Adding to the already precarious nature of life here in Indonesia, our line of work as a fledgling social science academic and aspiring artist and what Rara and I aspire to do socially, what we aspire to become, easily ends in stagnation if we intend to continue to live our lives in Indonesia. (I want to direct you to Social Science and Power edited by Vedi Hadiz and Daniel Dhakkidae to get the gist of what I'm trying to get at here.)

This is a hard pill to swallow, harder to write and even more so to act upon. I am existentially tied to Indonesia, my family and friends are here, my father is buried here and so will my mother. Memories of the distant past, the colloquial language when shitposting on social media, my mind and body have been shaped by Indonesia in ways I possibly do not even fully realize. This is why I oscillate between guilt towards others and guilt towards the self. I feel guilty for simply having an exit strategy when many others don't, I have the luxury of choice. Yet I also I feel guilty for feeling guilty about this, as it means I am also neglecting the well-being of myself, now and in the future. I need to work on this and find my bearings, being stuck in a guilty limbo won't get me anywhere.

And the future is far from stable, I wonder what is on the other end of surviving this pandemic? There is so much collective grief, collective anger and of course personal anger. All this will amount to something, I'm sure of that. Although I don't know what exactly, I'm not entirely confident this something will be good. John Keane's new book 'The New Despotism' comes into mind.

What do I personally do with all this anger? I’ve noticed how anger, especially when it is on the verge of hatred, morphs itself and easily descends into madness, into aggression and often showing itself, unawaringly to us, when the act of expressing anger happens. Your mind becomes instantly clouded, ending in mindless action. This inability to have control over oneself terrifies me. I already have so very little semblance of control over life in general at the moment, if I truly have no control over myself whatsoever, what then do I have?

And I wonder if it is a waste of time asking these pseudo-intellectual questions? I don't know, yet I do know I live in a society where it hones aggression and hostility, whether it be in physical and digital spaces, and I would like to draw myself away from all this at the moment before I transform myself into something I do not wish to be. Anger I can fully understand, and it is needed and useful. Yet to actively transform it into deep blinding hatred and sustain it daily, is something I feel psychologically destructive for me and I'm trying my best not to go on that path.

I rarely update this blog I know, but this blog has always been used as a personal chronicle of how much I have progressed, digressed or both. And I needed to write all this, because I've never been this least sure of what my life should be like and where it should go. I know I am not alone at this. This pandemic has destroyed the lives of many, our futures, our dreams, our sources of love and I hope that anyone of you reading this finds a way to get through it, doing anything you can do day in, day out.

I'm not sure it if amounts to anything. Maybe it won't, maybe it will, or maybe it has but maybe we just can't see it. All I can personally do for now, is to hold on to these 'maybes', and maybe, just maybe I'll get through this too.

“Where must we go...

We who wonder this Wasteland

in search of our better selves?”

- The First History Man, George Miller

[sijsaddictivelemurcorner]

haha totally epic and not really long review i spent almost an hour writing how i felt about the first episode haha no NO

S1;E1 (King Me) Review that's more of a personal rant than actual review i'm sorry help me

(warning this is a VERY long review towards how I felt towards the first episode, and there will be MANY, MANY more like this; but dont worry, not will be like this lol)

----

King Me was an episode that already began to show the progress towards King Julien and his efforts towards him and the kingdom. We already know what happens; But for the ones who don't or at least don't remember- Uncle King Julien, King Julien's Uncle, obviously, was foretold a prophecy from Masikura about a prophecy where if a king was wearing a crown tomorrow night, they would get eaten by the foosa. Intrigued with a plan, Uncle King Julien gives the crown to his nephew while they're unaware of what's expected to come.

We can already tell his uncle's a bit of a douche, already wanting to kill his son off from day one. But the question lies through; Was this something he's been wanting to do for sometime, or just a 'without a second thought' decision? It's unclear, but this only shows how retched this guy's family really is. It's a bit saddening to know King Julien comes from such a terrible family, honestly. We already know about how his parents are, but we'll get about them when they make their first appearance in the later episodes.

Moving on, the episode later showed Mort's first interaction with the King. It shows that Mort had always encountered Julien, but never spoke to him until now, hence why King Julien was asking Mort's name. This also shows Mort already had quite the liking towards him before his feet addiction, but we're not sure how much he liked him. Was he just a regular fanatic or something more before then? His interest towards the feet didn't really skyrocket until the later seasons (which will be very interesting to talk about, so get ready for that soon, heuha).

I enjoyed seeing the part where he defeated the foosa through an interest many saw as a negative. The one thing I definitely liked in this episode was how his negative characteristics (being a party animal) were taken in a positive light. It's obvious Julien can take something bad into something good, and he always finds his own ways into solving situations, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to most. He takes his own precaution and steps, and most of the time; They usually work! It showed his own potential as a king, and didn't want to stick to the rules that the past kings have probably enforced onto themselves and others. It's already proof enough that Uncle King Julien's method of handling things was through running away and being in fear, and it was the kind of method Julien sort of took when the foosa first attacked at his coronation.

It was well established in the start of the episode that his uncle took things through seclusion and limitation. Halfway through the episode, it was revealed that his uncle even banned his people from doing fun, exciting things (as in worry of them attracting the foosas), which is kind of a low, but it's his uncle, so it's not even a big surprise whatsoever. King Julien obviously didn't want to keep that law, so it makes sense he would well... veto it. Sometimes it makes me feel bad for the kingdom despite Maurice said 'he kept us all safe'. Regardless if he did, restricting everyone's activities for the sake of 'not attracting the foosas' seems a little numb-handed. His uncle should've thought of something better rather than forcing everyone to stay quiet most of the time and restricting most activities. He could've maybe told them how to fight, or told them how to set up warning signs for foosas'.

It's kind of stupid how Clover wasn't being the main defender since it was clearly shown she has the skills and defensive tactics to protect her kingdom. Yet again, she was just the head of security, and not the bodyguard. It's unknown how long she has been working with Uncle King Julien, but I'm sure he's known her long enough to know she could've been the perfect security to stop the foosas' back then, but it would make sense he would probably tell her to back from the foosas' since he didn't want to risk losing anyone. I mean, it was already proven from Maurice they lost half of the kingdom to the foosas' last year- which is definitely... news right there.

But what truly got me the most out of everything else in the episode was King Julien's quote to his people when he told them they would be dealing with the foosa again in the future; How if there isn't a tomorrow for them, then they should make their day extra big. It's a neat sentiment and less of a negative quote, serving more as a neutral one that reassures but gives the lemurs an understanding to what they're really dealing with in the jungle life. It's funny but strange to me on how King Julien could easily accept the fates he expects to probably deal with in the future. Maybe cause he's so used to already hearing so many lemurs get eaten by foosas; Some I bet he saw with his very own eyes.

But even so, he already gives his audience a pill that their past king probably would be too afraid to say to them, and that was honesty.

Brutal honesty. But an honesty with hope. He tells his people to make their days last, because they, and not even King Julien himself, knows when it's time to go. (cough - cough COUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNHnhnhn)

This episode was a true testimate to what King Julien is, and serves as an absolute justice to his usual roles back in the Madagascar movies and The Penguins of Madagascar; I applaud DreamWorks for giving this lemur the show he deserves, and the justice they gave to all the other lemurs and some others from the first Madagascar movie into this show, giving them the screen time they deserve as well- it truly shows how much the company really cares for its characters, and I give them huge respect for that. These are more than just 'cash grab spin offs', these are spin-offs I bet many, many people asked and wondered for years- and there it came.

But that's my review for the first episode. It's long, but whatever. As I progress through the other episodes, the reviews will be much more exciting, wacky, and well... review-y, lol.

They'll also probably be a bit shorter since I don't want to make every review be as long and detailed, heuha. Just felt like posting the first episode review out there. Will post the second episode review soon and then after I'll be reviewing the rest of season 1 and then turning it all into a single notepad that I'll publicly share to y'all.

Am very excited to show y'all more of my own personal reviews. :>

What are y'alls personal opinion towards the first episode? lol

[neon-junkie]

can i get uhhhhh some willscuella hcs? maybe when (and how?) they understood that dutch is not the leader they want anymore so they ran together and how it all went for them and for their relationship (friends to lovers mb??) idk or just general ones i'll read anything you write about them tbh

ohhhhhhh willscuella, they make my heart melt ;-;  did i get carried away with these? yes. are they a bit scruffy? yes. but you get the gist. 

Just a warning, these hc’s does contain a description of a panic attack and a homophobic slur. its a nice ending tho, promise :) 

Bill was up one night, drinking his sorrows away, trying to shake off the creepy vibe that Beaver Hollow gives out constantly. It's far too late for anybody to be up, apart from those on guard duty and for once, Javier isn't on it.

Bill gets up from his seat and begins wandering off past the horses, heading up to the left so he can empty his bladder. He turns and begins wandering back into camp, only to find Javier sitting down by one of the trees.

Had he been there this whole time? Had he appeared after Bill popped out of the camp? Bill is unsure, but he's definitely sure of the depressing aura that radiates Javier.

"Hey," Bill simply says as he approaches Javier. "You alright?" he asks.

"Bill, hey... yeah... well, no, not really," Javier takes his time responding.

"What's a matter?" Bill questions.

"The gang, Dutch, the usual stuff, you know," Javier tells him with a shrug.

"Yeah, I know," Bill pouts as he sits down beside Javier.

Within time, Javier began to pour his heart out. Ranting to Bill about how much the gang means to him, how they're family, how Dutch took him in when he was ready to die.

He finds himself crying, angry tears as he gets worked up at the situation, the situation that he feels could easily be avoided if everybody would just work together.

"You don't think that maybe... Dutch... he ain't really... with it?" Bill questions. Everybody has noticed how much Dutch has changed, how he's unnecessarily killing, how he's becoming the exact person he swore never to be.

"He isn't. I know he isn't. I guess I just don't want to admit it," Javier sighs. He knows that the man who saved his life is no longer someone he can rely on. He's not the same man who peeled his own coat off his back and wrapped it around Javier, attempting to tell him that he'll be fine, despite the language barrier.

Sooner or later, the gang will break. People have already begun peeling away, one at a time, escaping before the storm can hit. But Javier and Bill are in it till the very end, they've sworn their loyalty to their leader, to the gang, to each other.

"Bill?" Javier questions, lifting his head up and meeting Bills eyes.

"Yeah?" Bill asks, noticing the glistening trails of Javiers tears over his cheeks.

"If anything happens... to the gang I mean, you'll stick by me, Bill, won't you?" Javier questions.

"Of course," Bill nods.

They have each other.

-----

The storm finally came and they were forced to pick a side. But when the Pinkertons showed up, everybody ran.

Javier and Bill noticed the way Dutch didn't bother with them. Dutch didn't even look at them, he didn't check if they were safe or if they were following him to safety. He ran and saved his own ass, Micah trailing behind.

Javier and Bill looked at each other whilst the bullets continued to fly overhead, knowing that now is their chance to escape.

So they left, whistling for their horses and bolting out of there. Dutch was nowhere to be seen nor heard, but this was a blessing in disguise as they could finally escape.

Days became weeks and they found themselves in New Austin, a place they hadn't been for well over the year. They've not missed the blazing sun or the dry earth, but the landscape doesn't seem to bother them. They have bigger demons to face.

A small camp is set up whilst they try and figure things out, where to go, what to do, where to hide, etc. They're sticking together, and even Brown Jack and Boaz seem inseparable, traumatized from how much that fight had startled them.

They're scavenging whatever they can, robbing the odd coach here and there, practically picking up every penny they see in the dirt in order to survive. Every day is heavy, a permanent weight on their shoulders, and they can't remember the last time they've laughed or smiled.

The nights in New Austin are cold and dark, like a vast void. It's the perfect setting for nightmares and they become a regular thing for Javier.

Bill's used to overhearing Javier jolt awake. He's used to stirring in his sleep and seeing Javier sat by the campfire, bags under his eyes with his knees tucked up to his chest.

That well-groomed and confident man that he once knew is gone, leaving behind this started lamb with enough weight on his shoulders to kill a horse.

The nightmares get bad one night, Javier jolting awake but this time, he lets out a cry. He's panting and shaking and he suddenly forgets how to breathe.

"Javier?" Bill calls out as he stirs awake, slowly sitting up to see Javier on the verge of a breakdown. "Shit," Bill swears under his breath, quickly getting to his feet and settling down beside Javier.

The tears begin to fall and Javier goes into a panicked state, shaking and hyperventilating, forgetting how to move his own body.

Bill's unsure what to do so he plays on his instincts, reaching out to gently pull Javier against his chest, softly wrapping his arms around the much smaller man.

Javier melts into him straight away, burying his head into the curve of Bills neck, clinging onto Bills shirt for dear life as he empties out all his bottled emotions through his tears.

Bill cradles Javier, softly cooing him, reminding him to breathe every so often. They stay like that for quite some time; minutes? hours? time blurs when you're in that state.

Once Javier's worn out and stable enough to respond, he sobs out a "thank you," still curled up in Bills lap, still gripping onto his shirt and breathing heavily.

"S'alright. You'd do the same for me," Bill tells him. "C'mon, let's get some rest," Bill says. Javier can only nod in agreement.

Neither of them questions what happens next, they just naturally do it. Bill pulls Javier down with him onto his bedroll, stretching his arm out underneath Javiers head, pulling the smaller man against him. Javiers arms wrap around Bill tightly, gripping onto the bear-sized man as if he was going to slip away.

They're quick to drift off to sleep, exhausted from the turn of events, but the way they've slept doesn't bother either of them.

From then on, literally sleeping together becomes a normal thing. It's comforting, reminding themselves that they still have each other, but only each other.

Javier does try to sleep by himself one night whilst Bill goes for a walk, but he ends up lying awake the whole time. Once Bill is back and settled on his own rollmat, Javier gets up and moves across to Bill, taking his normal position comfortably across Bills chest.

Bill doesn't say a word, he just stretches his arm out and allows Javier to curl up to him. If anything, Bill encourages it from the way he tightly holds Javier, and the way his cheek rests against Javiers head as they sleep.

-----

Their first kiss wasn't surprising. It was a somewhat odd situation, the pair attempting to go into town one evening for a few drinks, over a year after the event.

They'd gotten a lot better since they began finding comfort in each other, and Javier was the one to suggest that they should try and do something normal, especially now they'd earned a fair amount of money and were beginning to get back onto their feet.

Drinks were downed and they were at a comfortable level, sitting by themselves at the table. The saloon was quite busy for a dry, desert town. One that was apparently riddled with cholera but the pair weren't fussed if they catch it. If anything, it'd be a blessing.

They overheard a man make a comment about them, saying he'd "never seen such an odd pair of fags before."

Javier was the one to act impulsively, not Bill, storming to his feet and confronting the stranger.

Bill peeled him away, saying he's not worth it, and managed to drag Javier outside and have him relax as they leaned on the fence surrounding the Saloon.

Bill knew Javier was calm the second he said "that was weird for me, eh? You used to be the one to do things like that," with a soft laugh.

"Maybe you've been around me for too long then," Bill replied.

"Yeah, maybe a little too close to you too," Javier laughs, but Bill picks up on that glisten to his eyes.

"D-do you mind that?" Bill questions. The two had never actually spoken about their sleeping arrangements, naturally doing them to help benefit the other, providing warmth and comfort through their hardest times.

"The cuddling? No," Javier confidently replies.

He said it. Cuddling. They are cuddling, aren't they? Bill feels odd finally hearing it, finally coming to terms with the fact that the pair do enjoy a cuddle every night. And they don't just do it when they're in bed; they've often just lazed about together by the campfire some evenings, or spent a few minutes in each others arms before they get up.

"Do you?" Javier asks, snapping Bill out of his dazed realization.

"What? No," Bill replies.

"Hm," Javier hums in agreement.

They're silent, staring at each other. Javier's always been relaxed about the arrangement, calling it to himself cuddling from the very start, but Bill was a little unsure if it really was cuddling. He's never wanted to cross any boundaries, to hurt Javier in any way, especially not by making him uncomfortable.

Their eyes lock onto each others; Bill's wide and timid, whilst Javiers are relaxed and confident.

But regardless of their current states, they both move in at the same time to finally kiss. It's comforting, like sipping a hot drink at just the right temperature, or watching a rock skim perfectly over the water. It feels like both home and the open road, like two polar opposites finally meeting.

If they would have somehow kissed years ago then it would have never worked; their noses would have bumped too often, Bill would have been too aggressive, and Javier would have probably pushed him away.

But now, it was just right.

Just like that stranger said, they definitely are an odd pair.

[the-firebird69]

The actual band from 2015 to present

Too loud thier horseshit baby rants

Foundvthemm dead on the side of the road and revived them held them I the house for days asked them questions as if I was interested in band life, said you don't want to go out there it's bad abandoned town you flipped a trip wire hit a boobybtrap... Said it lk bja

Filled them in they were in upstate NY had no gas left thier rig.... Trip wire or no gas, I explained the booby trap emptied the tank the felt better, seeped into the roadway concrete not tar

Good they said sarcastically where can we go from here, I said nowhere I'm trapped guarded by things

I got real heavy showed them how I survive grabbed a glass broke it. They were astounded no blood. They tried got hurt didn't try any more. It was cold November last year, I asked in a serious voice what's cold November rain mean, they said it like this isn't it cold in November, I said yes rains colder too.

Then they said it like this Everyman knows I said I'm not Everyman tons of stuff circulates.

They knew what I meant.

Said it's like this old ppl know, so Flor makes sense and went on discussing musical instruments, they said well you were so serious I replied most think it's that south thing. Colder in the south...

They stopped and replied what about it, they all ssy ut you say it so why ask

Your guns and roses I figured that I would ask you told me I don't want to be rude.

Ate like the queer bja does

They said stop it I said stop what we told you the answer, and they said it again I said I have odd mannerisms. They looked keenly at me who are you. I said bja character. They laughed we knew it your one of them. I said I knew who you are and it's not funny why is it funny.

Your act is world famous for annoying ppl every day we see it and make fun of it tell me how do you do it get prepared.

Then I say this, I don't I just do it was brought up to. He put up his knife said we skin you alive for it it's insulting.

I say I'm not doing it on purpose, I walk funny too. And he eyeballs me I get up slow and walk, the strange way you see bja, no up and dn.

So they laugh are you gifted I said no handicapped. They clapped ok we get it not trying, but do you know you annoyed your brother for many many years by doing it. He was always wondering what you were doing it for

I said no in disbelief he says I'm rudecand dangerous and provolk him.

Then he poked fun said I know, challenged me for my car. I took it upon myself to say no. They said, no just no, we are rockers man... They tried to acvost me for them I belted one hard, he went down. I said don't do that. They said don't do what. And I said nothing

They talked he got up said he was sorry, I said I have to ask you to leave now. They said no.

I said leave

They would not

I started to try and make them one pulled out a knife I closed it on his fingers, he said ouch why did you do that I said to cut the tendons so Yu can't hold it. He said wow a mouth on u

They continued scuffling I said stop or I put a spell on you.

They left

I found them in the snow face down

I repeated the scene several times they failed to point out it had happened, found out I'm well watched. Kept talking to them ivercand over.

Felt it then a cold hatred I knew

These watch me my characters

I hit them thier guts burst out

Then I flew over the table put his head down on the table said you hear you breathing you tell me why your here.

He stopped said ur bja right we want the guy in front of you.

What guy in front of me. They said your brother who came later... I said I don't HV a brother.

He split out laughing he's your brother. I said who he

He said Trump we are here to see if you are alright

I jumped up and pile drives him broke his back could hear him ehince in pain

He turned over had an object I grabbed a gun no knife it was hot, with blood he had it out

He fell on it I removed it from him. The others dead I said too slow huh.

We died out there how. I said I'm followed by monsters you saw none

No

He mutters your dead anyways we have you monitored day and night i said who has who monitored your out here alone rmemp broke most devices power is out

He laughs and says that you're the monster replied saying no I'm not there monsters around me and they leave footprints with huge and they hit you while I'm inside I saw them do it this is how they hit me and I said it's an energy weapon they create an energy field of the knocks you out what easily they trying on me and it doesn't work I think I'm one of them it says you're not one of them Jeff superpowers and they give it to you because they don't want you to die because he knows he has made I said that's wonderful so I'm stuck here as made people to come here and try and kill me because I don't want to listen to said look maybe we can try and figure a way out of here so while you have to use a vehicle if you have to go fast and then so quick can you get to the vehicle and he said I know what to do I have to get rid of you and have to take over this house because you're a fool so I said well you can't do that because I'll just kill you and said well I'm here to take your job 304 real you people are sitting here taking advantage of monsters and the positions they handle the people we've known about it for a long time let me know that it passes hands but we didn't know is you're going around looking for this job's should you just kind of sit there waiting to die I thought it was so on that I polish the warning is that these people are just going around looking for a job of any kind trying to avoid to die in any way they can it doesn't have much to do with what's going on in the big picture or small picture running around us animals need to be captured in control of destroyed there's no way around it he was right the whole time I'm sitting here listening to him saying it over and over and over there acting like animals why are they doing that it is a story about it if they go on to this wooded area and guns and roses me as hell but they have absolutely nothing after his job it's kind of weird because those long time ago anthem background I said they were acting this way back then I started wondering something why don't we know if that's what it is I hear a Olympus say well you probably knew about it but didn't want to say anything so you want to talk to you I finally figured out something we need to know about testing just figured out something it's better not to know know it definitely is not it's better to know how to act wondering around wondering what to do in the computer and everything seems fine

what's your time I hear this where's your job going to do this thing you're doing here so why would you want to do that sounds disgusting cuz it is no way out of here one person you came all this way for no reason at all driving around the middle of nowhere and your guns n roses this is nothing up north why don't you know that let me say this right I guess we're stuck here and you want to know why we're here since yes that's what I want to know so should we think we know who you are in the sky were falling around makes all these jokes and wisecracks about us and falls asleep in the middle of nowhere wakes up and keeps doing it comes out of nowhere it's just saying stupid stuff about us up in the backwoods of Maine I don't think that's me I don't go to main your New York upstate New York Sullivan said it again and I said why are you saying this weird stuff I don't go to Maine this is this your these people who follow us around say strange things and make us sick because hurt let's make daddy wants you to fall off the apple cart once you have nothing but your day continues to is it while you're one of them should know I'm not some of his brother I'm not yours I literally woke up to it so what are you doing here so trying to survive what are you doing here he said give me what I want and said there's nothing for me to give you a few people took everything and it's ruined this is well this is a shocker wealth in the same situation so that sure is the rudest thing I've ever seen as monsters go around and eat everybody know we can figure it out because I was looking for some dumb-ass thing to do instead of survive so then he says that's why you look for a job and you figure out what you're doing or trying to figure them out so will every since that's what I'm trying to do this for a year now I can't seem to even see them so I've heard about these classes that exists and somehow they collect radiation and I can't seem to figure out how to make it so then he whips out a pair like these in their sunglasses it hurts so bad hearing these people buy your own screaming at me all day long everyday I start to ask him about that I said you had this boy of ours you scream at every day thousands of people all day long, tons of reasons why not to as it doesn't do anything to help you and you refuse to do anything that makes any sense at all why do it when you finally says we do it because we can't stand it and I said well you're all dying it's a simple scam it's Florida and whole scam this is well I guess that's was spread all over the world and now you have no choice

how many really answers came out of them but I do understand something everybody folks in and start writing all the stuff down and sending it all out these people around you make it a living hell and I keep doing it over and over and over and you keep saying I can't not do it because I have to keep an eye out somehow and it's true and then they start doing it to annoy you they wanting to stop at times and I knew stop a little then start and then stop and start and I noticed there's a pattern here they abused you and they think they got something for me of use you and if it's got something and they lose tons of stuff and I think they got something that means something the day of the assholes bothering you the people here and you know that and they get replaced and new ones come in with the same people we traced him down and is true lots of leaves every day if they keep doing it over and over and over and what you say inside is man I hope it was stand it because this is fiercely annoying and then we say is it to then we say this we have to get rid of them

Long story short there's no real solution in a bunch of losers as a culture we're destroying them they run around looking for something to grab that will get them out of it and I keep pestering you for the never going to learn it's over you're all done my name is Darth Maul I led you to New York you all died