#that my near illiterate ass may one day write
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I also get vibes that Shuji came from a single mom household. But I headcanon that she was probably very neglectful and maybe a possible narcissist? As a little boy she left him alone in their dingy apartment to fend for himself for days and he had to feed himself and raise himself on the streets. And part of his goofy upbeat behavior along with being violent is a coping mechanism (besides that some of it might be his natural personality. I believe he is an ESTP of Myers-Briggs) He seems kinda comfortable with Kisaki's coldness and narcissistic behavior and I think maybe there is something to that? His own mom mightve been that cold. I also think that he seeks adrenaline and risky behavior as a way to get a strong dopamine hit and to feel something. Like he's repressing a lot of negative emotions but just handles them different than compared to Mikey (who is a different kind of mess) I think Shuji's apathy in his timeskip is fascinating because you can tell he isn't a teenage boy anymore, his eyes don't shine with mischief as they did and I'm thinking there could be some depression? He uses his vices as a distraction as well. Because I seriously don't think he is a sociopath which might be a controversial thing to say. And apathetic behavior could be result of burying things so deep you don't even know where you buried them if you ever wanted to bring them to the surface. One more thing I remembered, when hes visiting Kisaki's grave, he looks like he's been depressed and his eyes also lost that same shine as well. I might be looking too much into it and making a mountain out of a mole hill but I love his character and I love deep diving into everything about him
Dark head cannons for days. I don't think you're making anything too big dude life is hard and it's satisfying to think about how ppl get to where they are.
Fren, it hurts so bad. I hate how an overtly neglectful mom fits his relationship with kisaki so well but I hate even more that shuji seems to value that relationship so much. Destroys me a Lil to see baby shuji with a whole ass disorganized attachment to his mother, but it fits like a fuckin glove. I think most of us agree he just wouldn't believe he can be loved as is. And thats almost an expectation based on that background.
(I prob selfishly wanted her to not expressly intend to be neglectful bc I imagined more as like an extremely anxious/depressed-maybe even bipolar- overworked lady who wasn't planning on a kid dabbling in self medication (that he adopts wittingly or not) kinda leading to a wildly insecure relationship from a real young age.)
ESTP is perfect and I'm with you-if anyone is a sociopath it's kisaki, full stop. I mean. I think our boy struggles w shit but I don't think he lacks the intuition or understanding of emotions. Also I think he's rather honest and upfront about his intentions.
Love your note on adult shujis eyes (I'm not broken up after reading it not at all I'm an a d u l t) yeah its like we're finally seeing that depression that I think has been there since damn near childhood. He's team "don't wanna kms but if I die I die."
Tldr I'm all over the place but you're really fukin onto him. Wakui pls take notes from this lovely person.
(also real quick what happened to his dad in your mind? )
#anon ur my hero#pls hurt me more#im always here for sad shuji things#and happy shuji things#literaly anything this has been so fun#lets talk about the childhood trauma redemption arc ive been dreaming of#that my near illiterate ass may one day write#lovely chats lovely chats#talk to virtue
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Team Building
The night shift at this restaurant has done a 100% turnaround from even a few months ago. Nights are actually becoming enjoyable to work. The night manager’s job is easier than ever, and I have an actual team to work with instead of a bunch of people who do things the hard way.
And I’m responsible for making the team.
Here’s how I did it:
1. Lead by example. If you’re an unreliable dipshit who fucks over their coworkers at every opportunity and spends more time texting than working - absolutely nobody is going to listen to you because you’re useless.
Do your job. You don’t have to be perfect by any standard, just try to be good at what you do. Help your coworkers at every opportunity, and be the person they rely on for help. Again, you don’t have to be anywhere near perfect - just be good enough, helpful, and stay on the ball.
2. Include everybody. Hostesses, dishwashers, managers (if they don’t suck,) expo, cooks, other servers, and bussers are your best friends. Communicate with them, include them in the fun stuff, and for the love of all that’s holy don’t bitch at them. Basically treat them like you’d want to be treated. It’s not that hard. If they’re fucking up, help them just like you expect them to help you.
3. Share in the spoils of success. This is the part where most people fail. Servers will often have sales contests and whatnot with small prizes like a meal. SHARE IT! I win all the sales contests at my restaurant. Sometimes I keep the prize, sometimes I’ll give it to 2nd place (or another server that has really helped me out,) and sometimes I feel like my dishwasher/hostess/cook would enjoy it. You don’t have to give it all away, but show some appreciation. A few bucks to your hostess who helped bail your ass out or to the busser who brought drinks to your table when you were weeded really goes a long way.
4. Communicate that things are better when everybody works together. No joke, it really does. Team service (or whatever dumbass name your restaurant gives it) actually does work and it works well. As I’ve said before, guests give no fucks if you do everything, or if they only see you when you greet them and they get a check - provided they get good service. If everybody commits to it, it’s by far the best method since the best server on the planet can get weeded same as the day 5 rookie. I know it sounds like corporate restaurant bullshit, but even they get it right now and again.
Refer to step one when in doubt.
5. Be consistent. This isn’t something you can do in a day. Or a week. Probably not even in a month. And there may be people that won’t get on board no matter what (such as the Karen I work with.) But there just might be enough to get things started at the least, and from there things should build. But here’s the deal, for every off day you have where you don’t do dick and are inconsistent and aren’t doing the above steps you more or less delay your goals for at least a week. People by their very nature remember your shitty behavior more than your good behavior. So you have to do this day and in and day out pretty much forever.
It’s harder than it looks, but it will make your life much better.
Karen got her hours cut! And we have a customer complaint (the only one night shift has in writing over the past two months) complaining that “the server offered a 50% discount on the food, and neither he nor the GM would honor it. Really disappointing. We expected better from her since she’s a GM.” posted on the wall of shame. (I don’t remember the exact thing they said, it was borderline illiterate.) The important thing is that the GM and his boss both think this person is super confused and may not even have actually eaten at our restaurant, so basically the complaint is going to be 100% ignored. As it should be. -J
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Agua Bendita, AZ
Prior to the 2016 Election, Chris and I wrote a short speculative fiction for a competition. We were to imagine a reality in which Donald Trump wins the election, and well... he won. So now I’m posting it to see the accuracy of our prediction. I hope that it’s not entirely accurate, but only time (and your voices) will tell.
Agua Bendita, AZ by Chris L Smith & Exal Iraheta
I find myself in an unintentional town built from scraps, and broken backs. Three years ago this was only tumbleweeds and rocks, but thanks to Combover, people found themselves forced to make shelter near this bust of a wall. Long story short, the wall started strong, support from both sides, but then people got pissed. The cost started to fuck everyone over, and after one year, construction stopped; and these people were left stranded in the shadow of the relics of a failed wall. Things really went to hell.
The motel where I’m staying is a little thing, closer to the border than I would like to be.
“This is it,” a middle-aged, woman with graying hair, says to me as she opens the door to the room. A twin bed sits in the middle, facing a three drawer dresser made of particleboard and duct tape. The walls are a bright orange.
“What brings you all the way out here?” she asks.
“I’m writing an article.”
She looks me up and down, “Big city?”
“Yeah. The biggest.”
“Humph,” she says.
“How long have you been here?” I ask her, ready to find the first leg of my story.
She gives me a smirk, hands me the keys and closes the door after her.
“Thanks,” I say, hoping not everyone in this town is as skittish around outsiders.
The small window on the other side of the room adorns a mustard yellow curtain, I can’t tell if the yellow is intentional or a result of years of filtering second hand smoke. As I push it aside I can see a fence enclosing what looks like a skeleton. The skin of the beast has been stripped away like a sunken ship, left to be consumed by the very dirt it was meant to divide.
After a couple of aspirins chased by a shot of tequila, I make my way into town to take a look around. There is a cluster of houses stacked on top of each other like coffins, a small convenience store at the corner, a dive diner, a liquor store; the necessities I suppose. Two kids kick around a brick like a soccer ball, wearing presumably, their father's steal toed boots. Behind them sits a blue-eyed, bald, old man - his shoulders broader than I could ever wish for.
“If you’re looking for a construction job, you’re a few months too late,” the old man says. “Not that you’d be any good in those.”
I look down at my black loafers, fully covered in dirt. I don’t know why, but this makes me feel a bit embarrassed.
“No sir, mister....” I walk up to him and extend my hand. He takes it, a firm grip, gives it a tug and lets go. “I’m here to interview some of the locals, get a sense of—”
“Another goddamn story huh?” The man spits into a Coke can. “Well, if you’re looking to talk to someone, you should pay a visit to Maria Soledad. She loves getting her name in print.”
I clumsily reach for my phone to write down her name, but keep fucking up my damn code. “Is she the forewoman?”
“Nah. She’s a butch dike who probably wanted to be a goddamn movie star.” He points off to the east. “You’ll find her up there.”
I finally jot down her name. “Well what about you? Why did you come down?”
He spits again, some of the tobacco spit mixture catches the rim of the can.
“The same reason 300 other motherfuckers moved down here. A goddamn contract.”
I turn to leave. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“I ain’t give it to you.” He says with a satisfied smile.
The next day, I make my way down the fork at the end of the dirt road. I only have three days, three fucking days to come up with something. I figure, fine, I’ll talk to some folks, make a piece about desperate eccentric people. They have to be batshit crazy to stay in this town. Right?
A woman, probably around my age, beautiful tan skin, with obviously bleached blonde hair, waters a pathetic garden. She dunks a cracked plastic bucket into a 55 gallon water drum. Her small frame could easily be swallowed whole by the damn thing.
“Excuse me?” I say forcefully, making my voice friendlier, a little skill I acquired from my telemarketer days before being replaced by laptops.
“Oh my lord!” She says, keeping a steady foot on the ground. “You scared the bejesus out of me!”
Her voice is oddly comforting, maybe it’s the subtle hint of midwestern in her, but she reminds me of a relative, maybe my grandma.
“Not many people say ‘Excuse me?’ around here?” I say.
“Not unless they’re wrestling you over a glass of whisky,” she says, with a laugh.
I look behind her, to a small house with a stucco exterior which blends into the dirt and rocks that surround them.
“Lovely place,” I give a nod.
“Oh that? Ain’t it? Isn’t mine though, but thank you.”
“Oh.”
“I live over there, next to that tent park.”
Her sooty finger points towards a cream colored camper, probably ten years old.
“A camper huh? I’ve never been in one of those.”
She pauses and with a raised brow, “Aren’t you a little too young to be hitting on me?”
I can feel my face blush, but I’m sure my brown skin doesn’t show it. “Oh no, sorry. No, I was just trying to think of a compliment, but realized I didn’t have one about campers, because I’ve never been in one.”
She wipes her forehead and takes a deep breath. The dirt on her face leaves a dark mud streak.
A group of children run by, including the two boys from yesterday. They chase each other, tossing stones and rocks found by the wayside.
“Hey, if you little bastards don’t quit that I’m gonna sick Lenny and Carl on you!” she yells.
The kids freeze.
“That’s right, now get a move on.”
The eldest boy, probably around 12, gives her the finger as they run off. “Oh you little punk. Fuck you!” She gives it right back to him.
“Damn kids. I swear, parents get a whiff of money and suddenly you got desperate people, who don’t know what the hell a condom is, moving their illiterate asses down here.”
I take out my phone, and jot a few notes down. This gives her pause.
“Another reporter? Damn it. We’ve spoken to everyone about everything already,” she turns to leave.
“Wait, no, I mean, yes, I’m a reporter. I mean, my name is Travis,” I raise my hand in a weak wave. It makes me feel like a first grader. Now I remember, not grandma, teacher. “Look, I only have a couple of more days left here, and honestly I just need a few interviews, doing a sort of catch up piece, see where things are now, three years after Pumpkin-head in charge started this fiasco.”
“Where you from? Fox News, CNN... The Daily Show?”
“No, I can’t stand cameras.”
“Oh not the Huffington—”
“Look, this is just a small post, not even a blog worthy length. My editor thought it would be a great fucking idea, and well—”
“What the heck did you do? It must have been really terrible to be sent out here on assignment. In the three years since we scraped together this little town, they have not once sent out a reporter of quality. Not once. Each and every one of them did something stupid to get sent down here. Can you believe that? Your kind uses our town as punishment.”
I stand speechless. I could tell her about how I got super high at our office Christmas party. I could tell her how I got so drunk the night before the last presidential debates, I got kicked out and arrested for disorderly conduct. I could tell her, but what’s the fucking point?
“My name is Maria, I’m the one with a green thumb ‘round here.” I look over to her sparse garden. “You try growing tomatoes in the g-damn desert,” she says, before motioning me to follow her.
She swings open the small door, followed by a gust of hot air.
“The space is small, but I make do,” Maria says, tossing some of her torn jeans aside from the entrance. “Excuse my mess, I wasn’t expecting company.”
I get an odd feeling in my head, as if my brain is working extra hard to take note of everything inside. The way she drapes her small window with a red scarf, giving the room a magenta hue. Her stacks of books, teetering on the edge of a two person kitchen table, only inches away from the sink that could probably hold three dishes.
“Do you mind if I record our conversation?” I say, trying my best to hide my judgement, but I’m sure it’s of no use.
“I don’t mind,” she says.
“So, before, you mentioned Lenny and Carl, are those other residents?”
She gives a boisterous laugh that catches me off guard. For a moment there, I question her sanity.
“Oh, no no,” she says, shaking her head. “Those are Simpsons characters, but I may have told those little turds they were escaped prisoners from the construction groups they brought down here from Buckeye, talk about story, that’s what you all should be writing about.”
“Prisoners? Working on the wall?”
“Yes!” She reaches into her single serve fridge and hands me beer. “Imagine, 300 of us, leaving lives behind to come down to this pile of shit to get some work, and what do we find? A chain gang, already here. I only saw two months of pay the entire year we built.”
The beer sizzles, some of the foam falls on my hand. I unthinkingly suck it up. “How long did that last?”
“Up until we started to fight back. I don’t care if the Mexicans or the 99 percent were paying for this damn wall, I just wanted to be able to pay for my kid’s lunches. They owe me about thirty-eight thousand, am I ever going to see that? Probably not.”
I look over to a small counter protruding off the sink. There are piles of documents, receipts, trash, but in the midst of all that, perfectly centered, is a single frame of two little girls.
“Those your daughters?” I ask her.
She nods, “Cindy and Vicky.”
“Wait, I thought - the old man said you were a lesbian.”
“It is 2019 Mr. Travis, ‘LESBIANS’ can have children you know.”
“Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant to ask about your spouse. Where is she?”
Maria goes silent for a moment. She takes a long swing of her beer.
“Well, up until two years ago, she was my wife, but laws change I suppose. Afterwards it was just fights, disagreements, and bitterness. You know how these things go don’t you? What are you like 32, 33?”
“36,” I say, sipping on my beer, fighting the temptation to chug the whole thing, and have a second.
“36? Were you married? Wife? Assuming you’re straight.”
I can feel my body for some reason swaying. “I am.” I say with an odd quiver. “Was married for a year. Divorced now. She was from Texas, not that that matters.”
“Well, what happened?”
“I guess the same reasons I find myself researching a fluff story here,” I say, wondering where that honesty came from. She must have slipped something in my beer.
“Well, Mr. Travis, at least you had a choice in the matter. Carey and I, well, the fucking country decided we were over.”
Maria drinks the rest of her can, and effortlessly crushes it with her hands. “But what’s the use in dwelling on that. The way I see it, I’m stuck here. I could move somewhere I suppose, but every time I get the nerve too we get told that work is about to start up again. I dunno. I guess I don’t have anywhere to go back to.”
“How do you afford living here if they—”
“I knew our conversation would eventually get here. I’ll tell you what, Mr. Travis, the wall may not be very profitable but women have always found a way to make it at the expense of lonesome men.”
I want to ask the obvious question, but something holds me back. I drink to fill the silence.
“I’ve got a few more question for you, Mr. Travis,” she says, “How long has it been since you’ve felt the warmth of a woman?” Maria reaches over and takes the can out of my hand.
I begin to panic and stand. “I think this will be enough.”
“Wait, don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t enjoy fucking men.” Maria takes another swig. “This town isn’t the innocent, pathetic little place the country thinks it is.” She looks at her phone stowed away in a cupholder. “About that time, why don’t you go and take a look. Really look. You’ll see what I mean.”
I leave the little camper behind, and make my way back to my rental car. As I sit with my key in the ignition, I soak in Maria’s words. I look around. The boys from before continue their chase a little way down the path. Out of a little box house, a girl, probably only 15, walks out with her bike, I don’t know why but something tells me to follow her. She doesn’t ride far, maybe about 15 minutes down to the construction site. The road turns to concrete, some of the few pieces of concrete I’ve seen all day, it leads into what looks like a motel. I figure it’s housing built for the workers. The girl drops her bike out front, walks to the farthest door on the right, and knocks. A man in his 50s, jet black hair, opens the door. He waits for her with a big smile. His heavy hand grazes her little face. She walks in and the door shuts behind her.
Is this it?
I turn my car around, my heart racing. A part of myself that I have ignored for years suddenly erupts. This pit in my stomach filled with anger, disgust, the shit of the world, overflowing as I rush to a halt at Maria’s camper.
She stands at the door waiting for me, smoking a cigarette. “This ain’t the first place like this, Mr. Travis. Three years, shit reporters.” Maria sits down on the small steps that lead into her camper. “So, what would you like to talk about?”
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First Impression: Re:ZERO - Starting Life in Another World
It's time again for Paul is Weeaboo Trash!
Today's topic: Re:ZERO - Starting Life in Another World (2016)
Review based on 6 episodes. Or 5 if you count two two-part beginning, episodes "1A and 1B", as one.
The characters are plastered all over everything at conventions! It keeps getting casually mentioned in reviews of other shows! Rem is apparently everyone's waifu! And yet... I knew absolutely nothing about the actual details of this show. I think I might understand why after the first few episodes, because it seems like one of those things you can't really discuss properly without resorting to spoilers, so people evade mentioning them. Or maybe the things I'm calling "spoilers" seem so obvious to other people that they don't think they're worth mentioning. Or the spoilers may be “common knowledge” in the weeb community so people don’t think they’re worth explicitly describing. Whatever, I'm notoriously dense when it comes to picking up foreshadowing, and often "anticipate" different twists than the ones that end up happening. I'm the perfect rube for twists. I didn't know the twist of The Sixth Sense (a movie which, incidentally, I still haven't seen) until The Lonely Island mentioned it in a song nine years after the movie came out. You’ll see what I mean soon, hopefully, because I think enjoying this show is very dependent on the audience learning what’s going on along with the main character.
Anyway, my point is that all I had heard that this was an unusually good isekai, a genre which I have somehow avoided reviewing up to this point even though I've enjoyed some isekai quite a lot. The idea of being transported to another world has been around for a long time, even being a key feature in the archetypal “hero’s journey” story format. In its current anime incarnation, it tends to be set in medieval-flavored fantasy worlds and be very action-oriented, but there is some nice diversity out there in the scenarios and spins different works take on the general concept. It has even been inverted and descended into total absurdity. But there is a shadow over the genre: a shadow cast by unpleasant and overpowered characters and escalatingly-stupid writing. And it is that kind of world our, er, hero(?)... well, main character at least, Subaru, expects.
Subaru, you see, is a shut-in gamer who suddenly finds himself transported to another world while shopping. One moment, he's on a deserted city street at night in our world. The next, he is on a busy city street in daylight in — surprise — a medieval-flavored fantasy setting. And he is very familiar with what that means: he has been summoned here. Plucked from his mundane life, he must be a superpowered protagonist, about to find himself on a grand adventure!
Ha. Nope. Try as he may, it seems like the only power he has is above-average strength from working out (but no real skill at using that strength to fight). And he doesn't even have normal functioning here otherwise. He's illiterate in the local language, comes off as insane to everyone he meets, and almost immediately finds himself being beaten up by muggers he thought he could heroically take on by himself. Rescued and healed by a magical mystery woman and her cat-like familiar spirit, Puck, he knows right away: she is the superpowered protagonist, and beautiful to boot! She too has been robbed, and he will help her recover what was stolen! Ha. Nope. Subaru soon finds that his situation is far stranger than he expected.
See, Subaru and his new magical mystery companion search for the woman who robbed her of her item, described only as a jeweled insignia. On the way, he learns that she is a half-elf and her name is Satella, and that although he treats her like a stock tsundere, she both isn't one and doesn't understand why he expects her to act like this. And I appreciate this, personally, because realistically we should ask: what does he expect? They've known each other for only a few hours, after all! They track the thief, a professional named Felt, down to a bar in the outskirt slums of the city run by her fence, Old Man Rom, and Subaru enters to find it full of merchandise but no sign of people. Then he finds the corpses.
Because of how the first few episodes unfold, it will be necessary to go into some things you might want to leave as spoilers even though they happen so soon in, because there's really something to be gained here from being confused and surprised with Subaru, and maybe even seeing your own expectations contradicted along with his. If you don’t want spoilers but are intrigued by the summary so far, go skip ahead to the Weeb Ass Shit ratings and then watch the show.
If not, now we're going to finish episode 1A, and go onward from there, okay?
Okay.
Subaru and Satella are quickly killed by an unseen attacker, the same one who already dispatched Rom and Felt before they arrived. At this point, we remember that back in the very first scene of the episode, before Subaru was transported, the camera cut back and forth between Subaru shopping in a convenience store and a hand reaching out weakly as the voice of the person to which it belongs talks about saving someone. Because now we see that the hand was his, and he was reaching out for Satella.
And then he's back in the city, right where he first appeared. And apparently also right when he first appeared. Was it a dream? A premonition? He certainly thinks so, and wants to use this knowledge to help Satella. So he goes to Rom's bar, finds Rom alive and working, and tries to negotiate to barter for the stolen insignia. Felt shows up, as does Elsa, the woman who hired her to steal the insignia in the first place, who turns out to have been the one who killed him in his premonition. And she kills him again. And then he's back in the city, and the same time and place. Oh no. It's not a premonition, it's a Groundhog Day-style time loop.
After a third death and reset, he has learned three important things: first, that Satella's name is definitely not Satella. Second, that much to his relief, there is some sort of police force in this world, although so far the only part of it he has encountered is Reinhart, a single off-duty knight. Third, that this insignia is worth much more than Felt is being paid for it and has some significance he can't yet guess at. Oh, and also he has decided this loop must be his “power”, and has named it “return by death”.
That gets us up through episodes 1B and 2. After that, he makes (and survives this time, albeit just barely) a fourth attempt to recover the insignia from Felt, and to keep it and all of the people involved out of the hands of Felt's murderous employer. Emilia — who called herself Satella before as what now seems to have been a sort of off-color joke, due to her resemblance to the real Satella, whom we have yet to encounter but who is clearly Bad News — brings the wounded Subaru home with her. He wakes up to find himself fully healed and in a bed at Emilia's palace, attended to by maids who look like near mirror images of each other. Maids? Palace?!
Yes, it turns out that the country Subaru has been transported to, Lugnica, is undergoing a succession crisis, that Emilia (sponsored by the flamboyant Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers) is in line for the throne, and that the insignia is a sort of proof of her authority that she must possess to be eligible when the new ruler is decided. Subaru asks to work for her, and the twin maids Ram and Rem (aha, now we meet everyone’s waifu), struggle to teach him the basics he needs to survive here, like cooking and reading. At the end of an unspecified number of days of trying but failing to learn to work alongside them, Subaru speaks to Emilia alone, and they seem to be getting along very well. He very badly attempts to explain the concept of a date to her, and successfully asks her out on one, and goes to sleep happy... And he wakes up to find Ram and Rem waiting at the foot of his bed... just as they were when he woke up here the first day... Yes, it turns out that somehow he died in his sleep and has been “reset” again. But he has at least obtained a new "save point", as it were, with his power, and must now work out what happened to him this time — and how exactly his power works, since he went back multiple days this time.
You know what? I'm not even going to go onward in my summary into the sixth (fifth) episode. Those of you who have seen the show will notice that my summary is getting more and more cursory, but it's because I don't want to just recap the show for you, I want to provide enough overview so you know what kind of show it is. There is so much to enjoy and appreciate that I haven't gotten to. Here’s an assortment of highlights:
- Subaru's interactions with Emilia and Beatrice (the librarian who I didn't even get around to mentioning in the summary above) are particularly nice because he treats them with otaku-y genre-savviness and they respond not just with some moe twist on confusion but with actual annoyance.
- I find it interesting that we can't be sure whether nobody knows about his power yet or whether they just aren't letting on that they know (although it sounds like Beatrice might know something), even though it doesn't make that much sense to me that Subaru has not tried to explain it, or the fact that he's from another world, even though he has established that magic is downright common here.
- On that note, I love that it sounds like there may be a thought-out, maybe even "hard", magic system that the people of this world know as a normal and understandable part of their environment and not just ad hoc contrivances.
- And I love that Subaru hasn't adapted well to his power, unlike many fantasy characters who, upon obtaining magic, take to it seemingly instinctively. He behaves just as you might expect from someone who (1) has never experienced magic before and (2) has a power that is clearly horrifying to experience. He even has difficulty not talking about things that happened previous times through, constantly confusing people in ways that are sometimes dramatic and sometimes just plain funny.
Much to my surprise, this also seems to be one of the very few shows I can watch more than three episodes of in a row without getting restless and wanting to go do something else. Even shows I love, I can not usually binge watch. But Re:ZERO sets up and uses its cliffhangers excellently. Some shows have clear self-contained stories in each episode. Some seem like they try to end in a way that at least sets up the next part of the story, if not necessarily do so suspensefully, but they choose bad places to break up the ongoing story. Some shows end in ways that practically obligate you to keep watching because a single episode is so unsatisfying (and maybe they should've made a movie instead). But here, I both end each episode having watched a useful and well-paced unit of story and it leaves off with open questions that keep me interested in what will happen next.
I am looking forward to the political intrigue or succession war or both that will presumably happen because there's no way "will Emilia take the throne?" doesn't become at least a main plot line. I am looking forward to finding out why everyone loves Rem so much. I am looking forward to seeing if (and how) Subaru ever matures and adjusts to his situation, and what his relationship to Emilia ends up being once they really know each other. I’m just overall very excited and optimistic for the future of this show. And I will be very upset if it unravels.
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For scoring on this review, I'd like to try something a little different. I think I would like to add two things to supplement the Weeb Ass Shit scale, and I'll try this new approach for a few more reviews before deciding whether to keep it.
First, I was inspired by Yuri Reviews, which breaks ratings down much more specifically than the W/A/S, into Story, Characters, Animation, Sound, Yuri (of course), and Total Enjoyment, most of which would be merged incoherently into “Shit”. Keeping in mind that combining unrelated features was exactly my problem with the "Shit" scale in the first place, I will try breaking down my evaluation roughly into writing vs. everything else. That is, although I’ll still provide a single summary “Shit” score, I will try to explain it more thoroughly by having a category for things like characters, story, and translation (if egregious enough that even I, with almost no knowledge of Japanese, notice problems — I'm looking at you, Full Metal Panic!, with all your subtitles that keep trying to insist that "Teresa" is spelled "Teletha"), and another for character design, animation, sound, and anything else I feel like commenting on.
Second, given how "sexual content" can mean anything from risqué jokes to non-sexualized nudity to fanservice to depictions of sexual violence and there is no way in the W/A/S framework to evaluate other aspects prospective viewers should know (e.g., the surprise pivot from stylized violence to disturbing violence in R.O.D.), I will now provide "Content Notes" that, although not necessarily warnings in the "trigger warning" or "viewer discretion is advised" sense, highlight some things I think viewers should know about when deciding if this is appropriate for themselves or others.
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Deluxe W/A/S Scores: 4 / 3 / 2
Weeb: Although he announces what he means fairly explicitly, Subaru's dialogue and assumptions probably make more sense with some background knowledge on other isekai, especially the ones with bad reputations. The genre isn't totally unknown to Western audiences, especially in the English-speaking world, but it's more common to see it with magical artifacts or wishes being the triggers for the transportation, not just leaving it as a mysterious force or reincarnation. These are not well-known things to non-otaku American audiences.
Ass: Elsa’s costume is, er, quite revealing, and a few shots of Felt and Emilia are framed in fanservicey ways, but so far it's also hard to think of this show as titillating. There is some barely-covered male nudity later on, too, but in one scene and not explicit.
Shit (writing): The characters who we encounter more than once are mostly interesting and have some depth and motivation to them, except for the gang that repeatedly mugs Subaru in the iterations of the first day. The surprises surprised me, but as I said at the beginning, I'm dumb as a brick when it comes to twists. So I'm not sure whether that's good writing or me being oblivious.
Shit (other): It's well-above-average-looking in terms of consistency and detail, and the designs of characters and places just consistently appeal to me. I have a vaguely-formed idea I can't articulate that this seems very... well-framed, I think the word I'm looking for? I don't know cinematography, but I know what gets my attention and leaves an impression. I also want to bring special attention to a nice touch in the sound in episode 1B: when Subaru tells Felt, Rom, and Elsa that his occupation is "unemployed", the music pauses momentarily along with the action on-screen, emphasizing the other characters' awkward silence.
Content Notes: As might be expected in a show where the main character repeatedly dies, some of the violence crosses the line from stylized to unsettling and maybe even into disturbing.
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Dont freak out, itss just writing
i grew up fast (so fast) (too quick nigga) (wish i went through when i was just a bit bigger) can you tell me who the parent is uh ya the first time i drove a whip i was a fuckin kid, (96 suburban nigga) (yo yo, did you tell em why) oh ya shit my fault my mom was bleeding from her chin i dont know what from or what about, scared to death i took that drive to the ER (Medical SHIIIT) (mom got too drunk again and feel out) (wheres dad? in his room his doors locked, figures i dont expect, as i try to knock (no answer nigga) i dont blame em he removes himself from the sitiation so he dont hit her) ya i fucking grew quick, ya i fucking tryed some shit, the first time i dropped out and took some shroomies i was age 6 plus 6, thats 12 for the illiterates, actually aas a matter a fact it was fuckin pleasant as fuck as i drew back the droe and took another hit. now that i think that was the day, older brother came and gave me cig i obliged no way to say nay, i was still trippin and it was a sensational feelin, it left me stumblin and dizzy a head rush like no other i was hooked for live to the day and i dont blame him, i dont think he knew what he had started, adding to the compilation of the monsxter inside that took refuge and started, poison in his mind, the drugs altered his brain activity but he was buckled up and commited to the ride.Shit i just said in third person let me apologize to yall sometimes the ideas flow together like two fortune five mergin, these feels of hate be strong ya im hurtin, i cant blame no one, i cant choose the family i was birthed in, started sniffin ups felt my blood surgin, gotta big head but my nemisis, the evil inside myself was bigger aboutt the size of a white sturgeon, like some northern ish that canadain shit like british columbia or somethin idk, alls i can say is that BC bud out that bitch is my fav to blow, the sour D, diesel to be exact for you niggas who waana try to nit pick or correct my personal facts, let me just speak at you, all the hatin niggas tryin bring me down, bad news, i do drugs like steve from fuckin blues clues, but my rents always on time when that xshits due, any ways i side tracked speaking of tracks just lined some shit up did with speed did with need i did it with tact, im dextrous and shit i always have a unique train of thought oh shit trains again trains derailed at this point hhaaha i crack myself up sometimes with the wit in my words leh-let you in on the pun so you can join in my fun, about the lines the lines are no more you didn arrive in time i promise these raps have rhythm they have rhyme i aint spittin to waste your time, i aint spittin to catch a dime, bag or bitch, it really dont matter, niether last long but they are still my niche, come here bitch come hit this shit, this time dont have a fit, mind over matter just stick yuh nose in these rails sit down for a bit, drink some wata, go to your happy place we are gettin to old for me to have tote on yuh just from hitten lines but i put up wit it, you got that 50 thou boat on yuh, not to mention your ride, that shit is so sweet i cant decidddee which id rather seed, as in inseminate with my seaman as i play the part as a seaman workin for seimans on a marine voyage i aint like you im a higher being, i dont know whatchu talkin whatch your eyes be seein i am a divine heathan i really cant fucking believe a niggas still breathin im a florida boy born and raised, i sit the fuck back drink my beer in the shade, high as i usually am a rinny tin tin rinscotts tale \down the rintin like a shark fin poatched by commercial fisherman thrown in a bin, no regard for life the human race is so greedy, people just aint my type, say what you want i know me best and i know im right. my creative talents on the other hand be outta sight, im my own worst enemy to cross the bridge pay the fee, trollin in the hood for that g, withdrawin, shakin i drop to my knee look up to the sky ask god if he sees. hear the sound of humming, huh must be bees, or im trippin out maybe its a flash back i dont remmember. whats th-this street, tremblin think my heat skipped a bit, or a couple shakinso bad my knes begin to buckle, anxiety can be dibilatated held me back from so much in life thers no debating. unfamiliar route. made it to this bar ordered a stout got to thinking, you may ask what about, this is why i like solitude to be on my own to answer to noone to depend on myself and live it to the fullest while im yung, my mind will reel, replaying all i know every single memory, that im capable of bringing back, i compare my brain to a file cabinet, i keep it hidden like in an office towards the back. A photographic memory is a gift and a curse, ill tell you whatat, if you dont keep it in check you will end up in a herse, sure you can remember the happy shit the good things in your life but you cant fucking forget the huge hits the fucking bad bitch the one who broke your heart? dounno how to forget you but i think i know where to start, i thought it was drugs, i numbed my body with chemicals little did i know with every shot the metaphorical shovel scooped out some more dirt from the inconcievable whole i fuckin dug. my life has been weird kinda like an opriental from a flee market an awkward rug, with no real spot in the house, was always the black sheep in the fam i tryed to tip toe as quiet as a mouse, some tom and jerry shit my mistakes and regrets cbhasing me around like tom the cat from that shit, I hide in my hidey whole, disconeected from any social environmeent i often found myself cryin, but self loathin is kinda like being a a gay with some dicks hes blowin, givin a ski job pitty is the lube hatred is the tube the vessel to carry out a deed the fags not sure about, hes experimentin comparable to some situations in my life cept wont catch me with two dudes in a shower, that was just a metaphor. you feel me? im sure the haters will hop all over that verse but just fuckinh hear me. I got my shades on and these bitches special, haters they block, they keep you no fun, sticklers out of sight out of mind like spf 75 sun block, that industrial shit, factory born hear the lunch bell on the horn, an hour passes the busy bees come back to the floor to join the others to join the masses; the hoard., here the hum of the worker bees at work as they sneek rum in there flasks stuck it in to the hive got it past the queen time to catch a buzz to make this pain stop while i avoid the fuzz the narks at work, cant control it even if they wanted to stop. i dont want to hurt. this was a metaphor for the endless rut of a reality ive become accustomed to; succomed too, the low of the low. comparable to a german trench on the frontlines., my life feels like a conveyer belt, makin the same product running the same direction never really goiong any where, now thats was an analagy, keeping up? yung unsensitive how many? 0 fucks, 0 fucks giveen, 0 blights forgiven, spiteful to death and mornful for noone, nothing left inside just another no-go, malfunctioning product family be like feeling “ i feel like they robbed us” of our brother our son and our friend , dont worry fam im still with you in your hearts up to the end. im tired of our society with all its malice and fallacy, thinking to my self how sad it must be, to be washed in the brain to be hypnotized, this shits so insane.you want that shit super sized? of course nigga watchu you sayin. A glutonous society obsessed with self indulgence people actually still believe good people are in abundance. Speaking of which, fuck the people for a tec, have you looked around lately, this earth is a wreck, mark my words we headin straight for destruction, We are not being good care takers, we fuckckin actin so careless what doesdo the opeople in power really expect?? just pass it on to the next generation “ohh, its not our life time we will leave it for you” Thats a big fuck you to the generations after you undeserving self entitled fucks finallyy croak. get the fuck outa here, tell me when you sold your sold, you heartlesxs bastards would give anything for xsome more of that paper thgat rules all, the pressure you have put on everyone, no one is an exception, to support ourselves and loved ones to provide for our own and multiple other peoples nees, the urge to make money looms over our heads like a pestiliant storm cloud of angst and uncertainty, boreing a fucking whole in our moral, making peoplpe desperaate rising crime rates because people get desperate, people need to survive and they will do dam near whatever it takess to make the money they need, for whatever purpose. ill whipe my ass with it throw in your cards i will win you better fold. i have freeedom, you ask what? anominity you fuckers, i can moldd my own life i have the freedomm of choosing, i certainly dont have to wait for legislation to pass a bill which you bribed for votes to do so anyways, to do something something much worse than im capabloe of ever doing, intentionally ruining the environment and turning our planet to mars just for paper with and idea (with a “hey, take our word for it, its worth something “””WE PROMISE”””” fucks) behind it not even gold bars, fuck you niggas mark my words illl bring all you mother fuckers down, ill run you fucks out of town, you hear that sound? its a train. its my passion and my determination to take you out, maybe ill use a fuckin plane? i mean its o.k. for the CIA to do it, right? Create this ridiculously elaborote ruse this plot, thyat fucking fooled all the ignorant and brainwashed americans you have already sucked in with your cancerous propaganda, kids lost to your bullshit through social media and the fucking criteria you make teachers teach young minds, we are taught from a very young age that “ huraaahh america is number one! Terrorists bad! Environmental destruction of a planet good!” how about we help some of the third woorld countries (which you know we wouldnt have to be gunning down women and children in the streets) we could just like give them the water they need? help them gentrify there communities teach them how to develop better skills, teach them more efficient ways to take advantage of their land, maybe bring some seeds to food sources that can be grown creating a bit of self sustainability that may not be indigenous but would grow in their country?? you greedy fucks just want oil, when we have enough in our reserves in alaska/canada to last north america 500 years falsey blame others, create an imaginary war “the war on terrorism, which infact is a fucking cover a false entity, to entice patriotism to loosely keep this crumbling empire together the last attempt, the only thread left in the button holding up the pants we call america, you forgot to tell the word all that shit is just whack [ simply a meticulously pplanned and executed ploy to spur interests in the middle east, control the oil and power will return back east, return to u, Cause god knows you tax the fuck out of us for EVERYTHING especially mnother fucking gas, so we can pay for wellfare and pay for fucking solar power for rich fucks who e==inherited wealth, people who hdont know what working a day means and never will be, never had a problem, never been broke “oh shit my fucking croket set is missingg a ball” lose the pretense fuckers, you cocksuckers, arrogant low lives.. Money makes you any better then the hard working man that cover your tax breaks pay like our fucking ppolice forces (who are a bunch of ROTC drop outs with a badge and sense of power nnow being unfair and crooked taking some kind of revenge on the idea of the kids who picked on them all through out school” Motherfucker its harder to become a plumber, the learning and process is longer/more rigorous then a 6 month police academy which is fucking my lil pony world ( ith ink there is a fantasy kids show for my lil pony with their own fantasy dimension/world)compared to a military bootcamp. A doctrine instilled to stop the spread of communisim wherever and whenever it may presenet itsxelf? when is the fighting going to stop in that area of our dying earth, thjey have been fighting eachother since lifes initial birth, what whoever was in power or in charge of trading the petroleumn to us wanted to charge an extra dollar 4 dollars aBARREL instead of 3??? whaa you fucking greedy cunts,? so we invade and take control put there people on dog collars?? for wshat a dollar difference in productionfreedom of speech as you mothers suck the livlyhood from our home like a blood sucking leech, so careless, you know exactly what your doing, you just dont care it aint your problem your headin towardcs the end your death is brewin, well im the reaper of death cloaked in black i always get my man like a cold inwe can hardly co-exist and efficiently function. We are on world one love bob marley shit im getting tired of going throught the motions im all fucked up inside and shit. Early development can be a lynch pin. to either set a strong first corner stone, ceremonial placement of the first corner stone, free mason shit, corn and vegetable oil, so many customs and traditions are goin down a fuckin hill catch em rollin. Early life is so fucking critical for a young kid, childrens minds are like a sponge they are looking up to their elders they are developing mentally they consume everything around them and retain more than you know, give your kids a healthy and stimulating environment and they will let there talents grow let there talents show let there brilliance flow let there inhibitions go, gone like dust in the wind, never catch em in trouble nothing, not one sin. They will begin to get older, be super organized, super focused for school, every class haxs a folder. As you watch them grow you will feel it in your heart you will fuckin kno, atleast you did this at least you used your parental guidance for good. when you die you know youll be missed, your kid dont throw fits, not one bit, hes such a chip off the old block that was cliche as fuck haha tuck em inh for bed his forhead you kiss. I just might fucking shed a tear, I cant fight this urge to drink a beer. I cant deny this fucking fear, I must look like just like headlights shinin onm a deer, jock strap aroun d my ankles, dumbfounded, look in my eyes, perplexed, look on my face as it hits, you get a certain taste in your mouth this race is coming to a close suddenly your filled with doubht, seriously you should be care free, yuou did your duty as a parent, im jealous wish that was me, chill the fuck out go drink some fucking relaxing tea or something, sobrietyy seems to be a good mixture along with love and rationality to make a family function like a well greased machine, like a mechanisim freshly whipped down with some white lithium grease. tuned and ready to go, temped to huff the fumes and left everything go, turn your car on shut the garage door, let death grip you, dont seem to care anymore, I cant change the past and i have no regreats, will i make it to thirty? “right over here people!” “place your bets!”, ill take my tickets to my Life Show and just scalp em make some extra cash, im already absent, so detatched;incapable of feeling. even if im there aint nothing going on emotionally in there (guarantee you im smilin an nodding i really dont give 2 fucks no more”, take that money right to the plug i promote fucking drugs not hugs, or why not both? why does the saying have to be one or the other when sxometimes its both you desire the most. Take the scalpin’ money from the tickets to the play of my life, go on down to the hood, pick up some bags mis amigos habla “Drogas” los hermanos tambien, this urge is hard to fight. Its a romance [a ritual of being, so0mething un explainable i wish i was never a part of, im always metaphorically bleeding. My poker face is strong, fuck showing weakness i alwayxs thought it was to show emotuion. wrong....... but its not, it can save your life, can \get you through, throw you a life jacket, get you out of that tide you fought, that frigid water no warmer than dry eyes.. Ive always been a loose cannon, I go with the flow, not lookin back, been chillin with the old heads they were suprisxed i could hang and, back to the point haha literally or figuratively is the question... im not gonna keep you waitin or leave yall hangin, i hate cliff hangers, make me wait 45 five minutes leave me jonesin’ its slow goin like grindin that ‘crete in the hangers polishin’ that baby out and coatin with some apoxy, its a process, i just get my drugs, whate=vers around and hit bangersz til i pass out, thatsx how my life has been goingg, i feel like im in the chambers just waiting to be gassed out. Flip the fuuckin switch you fuckin pussy end all this malcontent and hate, make itt black, eternal reest at loast.. dress me up real nice maybe a sharp vest, go through the processions and go through the motions fucking burn my body bitches, i want to be in the ocean ive always felt drawn to it, like an unexplainable,, unatainable unfakeable feeling or notion. im happiest sippin a coctail right by the ocean, thats where you put me to rest... ill be pissed as fuck dont treat me like a fucking ruck; i beenn aroound, age is but a number, my knowledge is vast and profound, ya thats right bitch im fuckin educated, know more tthan you will learn in your life time and im 20 years, old get what im sayin? i dont got a big heaad im actually humble, just at my breaking point. if i was a volcanoe you would feel the rumble; the pre-emptive signs of an eruption pre-determineed in the creator’s mind he took his divine time to find a wayy to grin away the time it took to find the book i bind when al i want is to be stress free and unwind but im the opposite wound up liike the grandfather clock i wish i could stop , the wheels are in motion the gears are set to full speed the feels keep comin i got this itch; this notion, this inkling to stop minglin, stop wastin my time with u useless fuccks. i think its time, its not the end my journey, just started this epic tale of sorrow, my feelings have departed, im fuckingg frozen over colder than ice, dry ice. cant touch me im full of hate and vice, addictive personality on a suicide mission like a ffucking missionary willing to die for his faithh,. i wish man willing to be a martyr for his religion.. ya bitch i smoke stoges in the hotel room just send the bill to him if it comes to me itll end up in the fucking rubbish bin with a looggie on top coughin up brown shit to young for that talk, to young for heart disease pack and a half a day to try to keep my miind at ease, the stress is buildin im like a tickin time bomb, im so wound up like a clock rigged to blow mount vesuvius, a test nuke... the alarm is soundinn off. A bright flash like a million lightning strikes, bout to pop off.. but atleast with style got my limited eddition nikes, listen to me i soound like them, listen to me bitching like a fucking fem, bottle it up, thats what society saays, male suicide is at an all time high like two polar opposites due to wed, its never gonna work im always going to be sad im always going to hurt, no fuck it, im a lock it up and throw away the key, im gonna forget about all this shit and be a fuckin G, be hardcore like the brothhers, leave bitches cryin in the street like aall our fuckin mothers, 32 degrees ferenhiet tatted on my left pec it signifies the tempture of my heart no longer warm and red, its frozen over, it hardly beats, that shit is smaler than the grinches, i turned into what they want me to be, a danger to society, getthe fuck outa myface before i shoo,t b, I got nothing to lose, living for nothing, nada, goose eggs nigga dont give a fuck reckless, no regard for life i dont give two fucks a partridge in a ghetto street, aint no merry christmas song, i like my biches thick and dirty wearin'n some fesh tomy thongs, i use em abuse and enthuse them then ruse thm excusse them fuckin confusethem "why you so distaant all of the suden" keep the vow of silence, like a monk on a holy missio, a friar on a divine quest, sending telepathic messages look into my eyes and see, get the fuck out i was never real these feelings meant nothing to me manipulator, manipulationist making up woprds never been a relationist, the masster of his craft a ventrilliquist or a puppet master you were to blind to see, mama was right just a socio path, ya bitch tell your 7 year old child that; see how long his chipper attitude lasts, im lower than nothing, not even a worm maybe i could bbe a fucking tick suckin blood, noting left of the kid i used to be, no more self worth, i cant love you when i cant love myself, how you expect me to support you when all i do is grab a spoon andd melt all the money thaat comes my way, a junkie, bum destined for an early death and you think yous my bride to be, sorry hun you reaad me wrong, i know its hard cause bitches never know whats goin on inside my head, as i lay in bea,d staring off to somewhere, anywhere but next toyou, staring off into space thinking about my drug abuse, asking myself why, but i know the answer ready to die, but i think ill get a lapper frm one more danceer, i wanna go out in style, not som lame shit maybe go up to a mountain and stand on a cliff, look down, see wher im destined to end up as i take the safety off, finger carressing the trigger, a cool wind blows as i prepare to leave my loved ones bitter, surprised they sstayed aound thislong only ever let em down ever since i was young, never good enough always disappointing this rap comes so easily writing it like noothing, to get this off my chest as theend comes near, i shaped my own destiny i chose to die, now i chose to die here, fuk your beliefs and your faith in gods plan i took my life intomy own fucking hands, i think we all know einstiens theory of insanity, i been doin the same shit fr so long now exspectin shit to change and, i guess im insane.. i took my brilliiant, my sharp mind and put it to waste. its time to pull the inevitable, the good die young idk in this case if thats viable, im scummy i did whatever it took to get my fix to kill that pitt in my tummy. i hurt people close, i stole from my famil.y.. its time to end it, like i caqme into the world, by myself always alone, soemthing that my father toldme that really stuck, its cynical as fuck, but he was right. he said stay out of the bullshit the groggy muck. Only lookout for yourself son, ive been arounnd awhile, [people dont give a fuck about anyone else they care only for themselves, in the end at the most critical time they will always choose them instead of some one else. We are alone in this wrld and its the hard truth jut learn not to ddepend on others while you are still in your youth, ive been fucked over to many times by people i thought i was very close to. now im out to get mines me and only me you and only you, get that fucking look on ur face sorry for beeing real and telling the truth, im trying to prepare your for whats ahead, im tryig to prevent you from depending on a brutus who will fill you with lead, stab you in the back for their own personnal gain, being to trustworthy is a heroic flaw like being egotistical, wanting to help your friends to much, being aragont ect. kryptonite to super man pease dont be batman and let it be yourr bane, bane as in the villian to let you know. im back, here are my words again not my dads, ji really do miss all the relationships i had, havent spoken to my dad in years tookk one for theteam stayed with mama dukese inj the ssplit to save faace, foir my innocent younger brothers. you know what shes also my motheer, shes not capable of surviving alone i didnt think i would abandon her ever i thought id never do that, i stuck with her out of evveryone, a family oof six she looked out for me in times of strife wish i could give her one last kiss, just shot my last 20 and i fucin missed, absesses dont matte any more i bet this 45 shoots true time for the finale, no way i can miss, as the curtains close on my young life one last thought people really took to me, like white on rice, women were drawn to me the mystery i had them enticced, June baby as a cancer i am hard to understand i met a chick once who had a spot in my liifes bnd, she knew me we had a connection so much love we were never disrespectin im glad i could atleast i could teach hersome shit before she ripped my beeating heart out of my chest and stepped on it. Loved hermore than life and i still do i promised her one day i would find her and marry her, walkher down that isle say the words ido, she felt what i felt i know its tru, wasnt ready fgor commitment baby i wil alwayslove yo never orget you if i can i connect with you, like a disease i infected you i aways broght you downi was just baggage extra wait holing you down dragging around im glad youo saw through my snake charming ways saw me for who i was a bumm who couldnt change noot in a short number of days, someone so crippled by pain and grief it was beyond belief, she was the only one i wore my heart on my sleeve for , she lef me sobbinig, crrying violently without end in the door the doorway to more pain. i know she had no choice she had to live her lifee i was just in he way, i was obscuring her focus. eye on the prize isthe only way to achieve your goals and tnt them fuckin boulders, in your way, today i die babe, long time comin bet yall thought i was here to stay. baby l dontshed a tear kno i died drinkin a beer haha but nah you were my last thoughts thinking about all the time we spent getting lost in eachothers eyes and gettin so close we read eachothers thougts, illl miss or idk if ill be concious or just nothjingness, i guess ill fnd out when i finally stop being a pussy and proced with this, see ya velma ill always be your shaggy thinka bout me and dont forget what i made you see, in your self im just another memory on our shelf but let it bbe one thaat sticks we had somethingthat made ssense just clicks somethin that felt so right im really gonn miss, everythinig abnout you im sorry you couldnt trust me but i dont doubt why. i know the truth ive never denied a thing in my life, dont getme wrong everybody tells a little white lie, but you know what its a sign of intelligence not to be afraid to say idk not to lie for the hll of it. Ill see you soon in the nxt life or two i hope reincarnatiuon has a possibility of being true, godbye cruel world th ride is over it was a hell of a whirl, i leave you with absolutely nohing conntributted i was just a part o the cancer people had to live with, butnever acknowledgedd, acted ignoant to ther surroundings as daddy paid for college, i burned bright and hot and had a lot of fun, i had alot of life experienc got alot of shit done, nothing productivee of course in ssocieties eyes but i did fullfill atleast some personal goals, important things in my eyes, the curtains are almost done descending as my pittiful life is ending, but keep your pitty mother fuckers i dont want shit from any of you i dont give yoou nothin dont be so self righteous you look like a bunch of fools, greive for me or celebrate my life i guess its on you how you chhoose to rfemmeber a nobody that nobody knew, a couple feet before the curtains drop, is that? myy eyes decieving? me? no i do see that a single rose descends from the skies, i stare intently at the work of art, a rose is soo beautiful, a representation of love, from the heart, so delicate with its velvet petals, easily ruined a boket wouldve been nice, but who am i fooling, thats a beautiful thing, that was really nice. the product bubbles as i take my last hit of ice, cant takemy eyes off that rose.. its so beautiful... the gun on my forhead now, looking at each individual pedals.. dew from the early mornin forming a small puddle around that naturral phenom, that iconic organic, spectaacular symbol of sometthing real, somethin that matters, something sensual.
As the bits of his brain splatter behid him, arms spread; with grace, almost angelic.he falls off the ciff a hundred feet now for falling, weird but there was a look of peace in his eyes; on his face, maybe he wll finally find happiness.. he fell with nobility and so much grace the floor he hit, his finall restingplace, what cuold be a better box then a natural setting, a beaauty of nature, crawling all around and he will return to the earth, the mother wll take him back just as she gave birth, i thinnk this shit is over now its not my story to tell, inside voices kids no reason to yell. shhhhhhhhhhh.
dont depend dont believe the [enter here]
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