#this has been one of the loneliest periods of my life-the fact that I am useless apart from temporary entertainment and a person to waste
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I’m so glad my exams are finally over bc I can at last cut my long term friends off since I have so much free time now.
#people think that I will ALWAYS be there simply because I tolerate how much they use me for their therapy and never even ask if I’m ok when#it’s sooooo obvious I somehow seem to always get progressively worse in terms of physical and mental health#and so ! because of my MH I haven’t been able to talk to most people at all#like I’d get a panic attack at the thought and I’d just have to close the app and just calm myself down#and my heart … it would hurt so bad from how my anxiety which already makes me gag uncontrollable and jolt awake from how violently I’m#trembling somehow my heart started to hurt so bad to the point I felt I was going to die soon#so I genuinelyyyyy couldn’t even talk to anyone#I’ve always wondered that if I stopped texting first if people would even notice#these past six months proved that no they wouldn’t#even the person I’ve been friends with for 8 years btw didn’t care#we used to talk daily#when she was in hospital I always checked up on her more than anyone even tho I couldn’t visit the hospital I’d always send her messages and#try to yk help to my capacity and stuff#but she had replaced me by another girl kinda and she stopped talking to me after I stopped talking first bc of my health issues#and the saddest part is that barely anyone out of all the people I’ve tried to befriend ever spoke to me anymore#this has been one of the loneliest periods of my life-the fact that I am useless apart from temporary entertainment and a person to waste#time with ? in fact I’m barely considered for these options in general#anyways so !!! I just gave up ! beforeeven the thought of cutting someone off I’d need to genuinely be held at gun point for someone to make#me cut off a bad person but now although I’m quite stressed still I’m lowkey ok with cutting off ppl#just bc of how absolutely horribly I’ve been abused and treated by all of them#sorry for being annoying I just needed somewhere to note this down I HATE being negative but all my life is negativity no matter how much I#distract myself with the very very few things I like (I only kinda like on thing here now … and even that I’m forcing myself to like it a#little …) so yeah I always feel guilty for saying these things and making these posts nobody has any idea how bad the guilt is but what else#can I do ? I don’t know …#like I have only ever confronted people TWICE my whole life not bc I’ve not been abused I’ve actually been really badly taken advantage of#consistently and without fail at every stage of my life but I don’t say anything bc I’m worried they’ll get upset#the reasons I ever said anything at the end is bc those ppl made me so suicidal more than usual and yeah … I Can cut them off right?#whatever whatever it doesn’t matter now my existence amongst them isn’t liked it seems anyways so why would they care if I left ?
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New priorities for a new year
The road ahead looks different now. Three weeks into retirement, it looks more like Nevada's Route 50, the "loneliest road in America," than a busy thoroughfare dotted with attractions and billboards.
Even so, it is not empty. It's more like a path that offers new opportunities for an author who loves challenges and a change of pace. Fresh from an enjoyable nine-day vacation in Puerto Rico, I am already mapping out the possibilities for a productive 2024.
My first order of business, of course, is to start a new series. With the Carpenters and the Second Chance triology in my rear-view mirror, I am now focused on new characters and storylines. In fact, I have already begun outlining a time-travel series where two orphaned brothers, moved by their grandfather's deathbed confession, begin a life-changing journey to the 1770s and the Philadelphia of America's founders.
If that theme sounds familiar, it should. In my next project, I will borrow from The Fire, Class of '59, The Lane Betrayal, Duties and Dreams, and other works in creating a trilogy that will blend old and new. In doing so, I will delve into the American Revolution for the first time.
I intend to research the period through the winter and begin writing in April. I hope to have the first book in the series out by the fall.
I also hope to convert at least two more books to audio in 2024, including The Refuge, which should be out sometime next month. With the release of that title, narrated by Roberto Scarlato, nineteen of my twenty-three novels will be available as audiobooks.
Though I will not be as driven to sell books as in past years, I will not neglect the business side of things either. I passed the 800,000 lifetime sales mark on Amazon in December 2023 and hope to hit the million mark before putting my MacBook Air out to pasture.
I should note, of course, that Amazon counts free and discounted books as "sales," which is why I am still writing and not building matching bungalows on Bora Bora, but the seven-figure-sale milestone is still important. It represents one of the few remaining objectives I want to reach in a career that began as a hobby a dozen years ago.
Beyond writing, I hope to do more traveling and reading in the coming year. Trips to Florida, the Pacific Northwest, and possibly the wine country of Northern California loom. So do more examinations of the framers. Walter Isaacson's Ben Franklin is my next read, followed by David McCullough's John Adams, a book I read years ago.
I am also going to keep an open mind toward getting a dog. Spending quality time with "Backup," my daughter Amy's lovable lab-pit mix, in Puerto Rico has prompted me to explore the notion again. In the meantime, I will find useful ways to use my newfound time.
I hope the holidays have been good to you and yours and wish you the best in whatever you take on in the coming year!
Photo: With "Backup," in Carolina, Puerto Rico, on New Year's Eve.
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6 & 17 for the TWEWY ask game?
6. Favourite Brand(s)?
Tie between Croaky Panic and Tiger Punks :] There will be no aesthetic consistency here. Croaky's goofiness is just so charming, I love the anime man sword I love the maid outfit and the rainbow wig I love Sasai my beloved clown grandma I love how half the pins are just frogs going :p :p :p over and over again, they found peak design and ran all the way home with it. Takeshita Street is my favourite location in neo...probably both games honestly, so I love all the shops there, but nothing will top an off-colour variety store run by a woman who insists that her rainbow afro is 100% natural. Like c'mon what more can you ask for
And Tiger Punks is cool. Punk rules. Can't say I'm into the subculture a la the dress or music, but I am looking respectfully from afar and blowing kisses.
^None of this is based on actual pin functionality btw I have never paid attention to pin brands before and I never will YES this includes Pork City in Another Day I was in the trenches man
17. Character(s) you relate to the most?
I have recently come to the horrifying realization that I have been projecting onto Sho this entire time.
Really, it should have been Neku. It would have been Neku if not for the fact that I watched the anime first and they did my poor boy's arc so dirty that I didnt care about him at ALL until I played the first game a little while later, and by then Sho had already sunk his grubby little paws into my brain and wasn't coming out. With him it also comes down to the fact that I had very little sense of how the series' writing usually treats him (his death in the anime being MUCH more generous than his canonical one for example), so I had high ambitions for him. I was in the middle of the loneliest, most isolated period of my life and instantly latched on to who I thought was a deeply flawed loner trapped in a cycle of self-sabotauge finding happiness and relief through acceptance by the people around him, in true and honest love and companionship. Just...the narrative of being stuck in liminal state for so, so long because you honestly don't believe that there's anything worth breaking out of it for, like a thick, murky-glass box with no light beyond it until one day, miraculously, there's a splinter and then a crack and then through it you can finally see clearly, and realize that there is something out there worth fighting for. It's a hamster wheel it's dead static it's a subtle yet persistent ache like a hole punctured or a tiny gear missing somewhere in your body its loneliness and I felt it so deeply I projected it hard onto Sho and made up a narrative in my head for him that isnt really there...or maybe is, kind of, but not to the degree that I've fabricated for my own personal reasons.
Now I NEED him to be happy and surrounded by friends it's pathological. Loneliness has been such a deep and pervasive pain all throughout my life and for some godforsaken reason I've decided to deal with it through this asshole. Of all characters. It was already bad in neo but then Josh decided to drop the line "Bored again? Or maybe just lonely" and ruin any chance I had and I KNOW I did it on purpose I KNOW he did the little BASTARD-
#please look away when you next see me woobifyng him...Im dealing with things#sorry that I started off with clown grandma and slowly descended into a borderline vent mina just does that to me#ask
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How Xena: Warrior Princess Allowed Me To Accept Myself
I was living in a city all alone and these two characters showed me that it was ok for two women to love each other.
In order to understand the following story, there’s something you need to know about me. I have always loved fiction. From the age of about 5 to 11, I loved books more than I loved people. I was a shy child who found it easier to emotionally engage with fictional worlds than the real one around me.
See, fictional worlds are created for your brain’s enjoyment. Their rules make sense. Events happen for a reason. The narrator tells you why characters behave the way they do, allowing you to empathize with them on a deep emotional level. Easy to understand, easy to identify with, easy to love.
But real people are complicated. The real world is complicated. And things are seldom laid out nicely in a coherent narrative format for you. Real things are much harder to love.
This emotional disengagement continued from the age of 11 onwards, although it was no longer as pronounced. My habit of retreating into fiction would fade during good times and come back in force during difficult or stressful periods. During the stressful periods of college, the rise of Netflix allowed me to become certifiably obsessed with my favorite TV shows. And naturally, I joined Tumblr in order to more easily fangirl with people who shared my interests.
Only for some peculiar reason that I didn’t care to examine, my interests were slowly gravitating towards girl-girl couples. Soon I was shipping, reblogging, and reading fanfiction almost exclusively about female couples. But I, who had always considered myself straight despite lacking interest in the boys around me, didn’t think this meant that I was gay. I probably just found female couples more emotionally satisfying. I was friends with mostly women, I was a woman myself, so it was natural that I just understood them better. Yeah, that was probably it.
Fast-forward to nine months ago. I was living in Boston and incredibly depressed about it. My job and my boss were making my life miserable and I had very few people to socialize with. I was making the rough transition from the constant socialization of college to the isolating pressure of a city where I had few connections. My days and nights were some of the loneliest I had ever experienced. I looked for something, anything, to lift the heart-crushing emotional silence.
My solution was the same one I always chose when I was dissatisfied with the real world; obsession with a new TV show. And thanks to my femslash-focused tumblr community, I knew just what my next feel-good show was going to be.
My tumblr friends had told me this: Xena: Warrior Princess is an action-fantasy show that enjoys a cult status, much like Buffy: The Vampire Slayer (which I watched and loved). The two shows were made in the same mid-to-late 90's era, with similar bad special effects and endearing campiness. But XWP is much… MUCH… more gay.
That was about all I knew about the show going in. And amazingly, that was all I needed to know to be excited about watching it. You’d think that fact would have told me something about myself, but no. The mental walls of denial were years in the building and needed more force than that to be shattered.
For anyone unfamiliar with the show’s premise, Xena: Warrior Princess is about the title character and her quest for redemption. You see, Xena did some bad things in her previous life on another show (Hercules: The Legendary Journeys). In her storied career as a warlord, she committed such petty crimes as genocide, the slaughter of innocents, that kind of thing. But now she has seen the light and wants to atone for her crimes. Except she can never undo the terrible things she did. All Xena can do now is help people on a day-to-day basis and hope that it’s enough for someone to show her mercy.
Which is already fantastic from a character standpoint. But there is a secret mirror to Xena’s journey that is not reflected in the show’s title, and that is Gabrielle and her character arc.
Oh! Gabrielle! When I met her in the very first episode, I loved her straightaway. She is a feisty, naive, talkative small-town girl who accompanies Xena on all her adventures. Her character quickly assumes paramount importance in the narrative. Gabrielle is Xena’s only friend. She comes to know her better than anyone else and love her for who she is, all the while believing Xena can reach redemption. Yet Gabrielle is not just a support system for Xena; she goes on her own heroic journey. The two character arcs intertwine and co-develop in a way I have never seen in any show before or since.
As each episode rolled by and their relationship grew in complexity, I found myself more and more engrossed. And I came to realize: this was something I wanted. The day I accepted my own desire was the day I accepted myself. What could be more strangling than denying the existence of your own feelings? Yet I had been doing this to myself for years — cutting off the possibility of being attracted to other women — without even realizing.
Before beginning the show, I thought the fandom had read in between the lines to construct a romantic relationship between the two characters, the same way as femslash shippers do in all other TV shows. Except not this time. This one is mind-blowingly different.
Not only does the narrative place utmost importance on the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle, but the actresses bring such multi-dimensional love to their parts. When I saw Lucy Lawless (Xena) and Renee O’Connor (Gabrielle) interact, I could so easily believe that these two women loved each other beyond friendship. Xena and Gabrielle display every kind of love you can think of. They protect and sacrifice for each other. They tease and flirt. They cuddle and console. They have inside jokes with each other. They dance sexily. They play pranks and drive each other crazy. They sweetly kiss. They come back from the dead together. They bathe together. They raise each other’s children. They meet in alternate timelines and fall in love all over again.
I could have left my mental walls of denial in place. I could have said to myself “oh yes, I want this. But with a guy.” But no. Lawless and O’Connor’s incredibly attractive faces and bodies broke down the door of my mental closet. Precisely because they were fictional, I felt safe to admit my attraction to them. One of the key mental blocks I had always had towards accepting any attraction towards other women was the thought that I was being creepy. That since they could not possibly feel the same way about me, it was wrong to feel the way I did. But in my mind, that barrier didn’t exist with fictional characters. They couldn’t feel anything for me. Therefore, it was fine to feel whatever I want about them.
The walls cracked. The water came rushing in. Oh my god. I am attracted to other women. Like, every day of my life. Those flickers in my stomach when I talk to an attractive female coworker suddenly make a whole lot of sense now. I now saw my historical awkwardness when talking to beautiful girls, which I always dismissed as “me being weird”, for what it was. All those short-term girl crushes on older girls throughout high school. How was I so sure they were platonic? That heart-aching infatuation I had with my best friend that lasted for years? Yeah, add that to the ‘definitely gay’ list.
Since then I’ve realized that my feelings are valid regardless of what others feel for me. Just because feelings are unrequited doesn’t mean they aren’t real. That’s what Xena and Gabrielle taught me. Their fictional example was the final blow to my rapidly-crumbling resistance to the idea of homosexuality.
In our culture today, so many forms of media reinforce heteronormativity. How many commercials have you seen that assume attraction between a man and a woman? How many billboards tell women that they need to look sexy for the men in their lives? How many times has a movie ended with the guy getting the girl? It’s the combined action of a thousand small rocks shifting to make a cultural avalanche. You can’t move against it. All you can do is stand still and try to maintain your footing against the current, to maintain your identity in the face of a world where you and people like you are often swept away by the mainstream.
Xena: Warrior Princess is one of those rare stories that dares to go against the grain. It celebrates a romantic relationship between two women as the most natural thing in the world. And in doing so, it provides a mirror for me and people like me to recognize themselves in. There we are. Look at us fly.
This story isn’t over yet. I still have a lot of work to do to accept myself, but thanks to Xena and Gabrielle I’ve taken one huge step towards living the open life I want to live. I moved on from that horrible job and lonely city, but in the end I’m grateful. Grateful that circumstances pushed me to the depths of loneliness necessary to bring down the prison I had built in my own mind.
- How Xena: Warrior Princess Allowed Me To Accept Myself by Lyra Hall
#if this doesn't convince you to watch the show i don't know what will#i love this article so much!#xena#xwp#xena warrior princess#xena x gabrielle#gabrielle#gabrielle x xena#xena/gabrielle#renee o'connor#lucy lawless#tv show#lgbtqia#lgbt#article#quote#passage#xena & gabrielle#gabrielle/xena#xena: warrior princess#subtext#lesbian#bisexual#lesbian subtext#queer subtext#analysis#review#discussion#xena and gabrielle#gabrielle and xena
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The Impact Of The Intergalactic - David Bowie Opinion Essay - by Beck S.
This is an essay I wrote about the span of David Bowie's career. I wrote it for a summer school course I took last year (August 2021) for a course called History of Rock & Roll.
My teacher gave nice feedback after he marked it, talking about how it was an "Excellent paper. It charts Bowie's progress throughout his career well, and includes significant detail. I could really feel the passion you have about him throughout. In fact, there is *too much* detail! The paper was supposed to be 3 pages max, double-spaced. Still, this is a good problem to have; better too much than too little."
So...enjoy!!
From his early works like Hunky Dory, to Black Tie White Noise in the 1990’s and stretching over to Blackstar as his final album, David Bowie has rarely had a bad album or song- in my opinion. His career has had ups and downs, his musical creations ranging in the way he would pitch his voice and what instruments he would use, the people he would produce with, and the wild things he would say. Charting David Bowie’s development over time is in fact an interesting journey.
Early on in his dreamy career, Bowie would have done nearly anything- or in fact, anyone- to grow in the music world. Hopping from band to band (like The Velvet Underground), producer to producer, doing whatever he could do to get ‘in’ in the industry. His early albums weren’t taken very highly in their times- especially with the ‘man-dress’ he wore on the British release of his The Man Who Sold The World album. Although, this dress was only the start of the androgynous appearance he would soon be known for, over the course of his 5-decade-spanning career.
The 1970’s were strange, to say the least. He married Angela Bowie at the start of the decade, then welcomed their son Duncan Zowie Haywood Jones a year later. Bowie went on to be hopped up on cocaine. David donned the look of one of his famous personas, The Thin White Duke. The same persona with slicked-back ginger hair, a white button-up under a black waistcoat and paired with black dress pants. The same Duke who called Adolf Hitler one of the first ‘rock stars’ and gave off a lot of faschist energy. He said many statements he’d later apologize for and grow as a better man from, which is good- it’s better than standing by then, or even backing himself up and supporting them. David Bowie called that period the darkest days of his life, and blamed the crazy statements on his horrid addiction and deteriorating mental state. The late 1970’s were more favorable, seeing as it gave the world what was dubbed the Berlin Trilogy alongside Brian Eno and David’s personal friend, Iggy Pop. Made up of three of his albums: Low and Heroes (both in 1977) and Lodger (1978). He moved from Los Angeles to Switzerland, then to Berlin as a further decision to escape his addiction (the reason he moved away from LA in the first place). It was in Berlin, of course, where he wrote his famous song Heroes, about two lovers, one from East Berlin and one from West.
Speaking of Berlin, David Bowie performed near the west of the Berlin Wall in 1987; he played so loud that crowds gathered on the east to listen. At this time, Bowie had no idea he would be the beginning of the city’s soon-coming unifying. After his death in 2016, the German government thanked him for bringing the wall down and unifying a divided Germany.
Music isn’t all he is known for, though it is a majority. He also starred in movies from time to time. Being the titular man in The Man Who Fell To Earth in 1976, Jareth the moody goblin king in Jim Henson’s 1986 Labyrinth film (what is most likely his most famous role), Monte the barman in the 1991 movie The Linguini Incident, cameoing as himself in Zoolander (2001), Nikola Tesla in the 2006 movie The Prestige, and even Lord Royal Highness in Spongebob Squarepants’ Atlantis Squarepantis in 2007, among a few others. David Bowie dabbled in the art of acting, and was not that bad at it. He was good enough to gain a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, too. Sometimes it bends my mind that my first introduction to my all-time favourite musician was in a Spongebob Squarepants movie, back before I knew who he was, but David Bowie was never one to shy away from foreshadowing. At least one song from many of his albums would hint at the direction he’d go in for his next release. For example, his track Queen Bitch on Hunky Dory foreshadowed his soon-coming Ziggy Stardust. And the Diamond Dogs track 1984 actually hinted at the Philadelphian soul of Young Americans, which is a more famous song of his, which he went on to perform on The Cher Show with its host.
The 1990’s were certainly an experimental time for David Bowie. But to my knowledge, I think the 1990’s was a time for everyone. He married supermodel Iman some days after performing at the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert, and released the album I named earlier, Black Tie White Noise. It is known to have had a prominent use of electronic instruments, as was his other 1990’s album, Earthling. The early 1990’s greeted David’s first real band since the Spiders From Mars, dubbed Tin Machine. They recorded three guitar-driven albums which received mixed reviews from the masses, but Bowie looks back at this period- as do I- with a certain fondness; “a glorious disaster” he called it, when talking to journalist Mick Brown. Tin Machine is a period I don’t listen to often, compared to his solo stuff, but I don’t press the skip button when it comes on.
Alas, the starman’s career drew to a close as the 2000s rolled in. David Bowie greeted the 2000’s with the birth of his and Iman’s daughter, the beautiful Alexandria Zahra Jones. After suffering a- strange, as it were- heart attack symptoms mid-song during a concert in 2004, he took a hiatus from his career. I say strange because given what I know, he was trying his best to stay healthy at the time. According to my special Rolling Stone edition magazine about David Bowie (released at the start of this year), he was on tour and performing in a really hot arena. But Bowie was sober, and had quit smoking. He was taking medication to lower his cholesterol, and worked out with a trainer. Bowie looked great, and yet he felt a pain in his shoulder and chest, along with a shortness for breath. A bodyguard rushed onstage to usher Bowie off of it, cutting the concert short. He only performed live once or twice after that point, but was set on never going live ever again. And he kept his word on that, unfortunately but also fortunately. Unfortunately, because David Bowie live would have been quite the experience- I wouldn’t know, personally. But fortunately, because I do not believe anyone needs a repeat of the 2004 Reality scare.
I am actually not too fond of speaking of his final years. Nobody really likes to speak of the last years of their idols’ life before their death, so it’s no surprise. Blackstar was David Bowie’s 25th and final album, recorded entirely in secret in New York alongside his long-time producer, Tony Visconti. The album's central theme lyrically is mortality, and seeing as Bowie was undergoing chemotherapy for his cancer at the time, I see it as his way of coping with his incoming death. His producer Tony Visconti called him a ‘canny bastard’, when he realized Bowie was essentially writing a farewell album. Every song on the album is what is considered a swan song, a swan song in question being a phrase for a final gesture of some sort before retirement or death. In this case, death. Over the course of recording the album, David Bowie’s chemotherapy had actually been working and he had an eerie optimism while recording. But by the time they shot the two music videos Blackstar and Lazarus, where he showed off the definite passage of time and cruelty of chemotherapy through sparse and gray hair with sagging skin, he knew his condition was terminal and that this would be a battle he would lose. Blackstar wasn’t the first album to have been made by a musician succumbing to a fatal illness, but in my opinion it is in fact the most beautiful. It’s jazzy, and elegant, showing how at peace he had become with dying.
Blackstar the album was released on January 8th, 2016. Also known as David Bowie’s 69th birthday. Two days later, David Bowie died at his Lafayette Street home on January 10th after living with liver cancer for up to 18 months. Beforehand, he had let it be known he did not want a funeral nor a burial, but rather that his body be cremated and the ashes to be scattered in Bali by his loved ones. His wish was received, and planet Earth was very much bluer and quieter without his colour and wonderful noise.
As I said earlier on, David Bowie’s career came with ups and downs. His mysteriously close relationship with Mick Jagger, his cross with famous underage groupie Lori Maddox, the births of his two talented children, his faschist bender in the 70’s, and final bang of Blackstar in his final year on earth. Through the highs and lows, his career and his music meant a lot to the quote-unquote misfits and freaks of the world, myself included. David Bowie turned and faced the strange, shouted “you’re not alone!” To those who felt the loneliest, he surely spent his career helping those who needed to be themselves, feel more freer and braver in doing so, no matter what they may be when they are themselves. He never went boring, he never went stale, he sang what he wanted and dressed how he pleased, and kept to his word on how much more to life there is when you’re just that; yourself. A year after David Bowie’s untimely passing, his son Duncan Jones accepted an award for British album of the year that was won by Blackstar at the 37th annual Brit Awards. When he accepted it, he made a speech about his father that I will leave here, and never forget. Seeing as it perfectly encapsulates David Bowie’ legacy, and the true meaning of his extraordinary career.
“I lost my dad last year, but I also became a dad. And, uhm, I was spending a lot of time- after getting over the shock- of trying to work out what would I want my son to know about his granddad? And I think it would be the same thing that most of my dad's fans have taken over the last 50 years. That he’s always been there supporting people who think they’re a little bit weird or a little bit strange, a little bit different, and he’s always been there for them. So...this award is for all the kooks, and all the people who make the kooks. Thanks, Brits, and thanks to his fans.” - Duncan Z. H. Jones (February 22 2017, at The O2 Arena in London.)
#david bowie#1960s#1970s#1980s#1990s#2000s#bowie#70s#90s#80s#60s#blackstar#ziggy stardust#thin white duke#david robert jones#labyrinth 1986#duncan jones#iman#starman#hunky dory#black tie white noise#the man who sold the world#low#heroes#iggy pop#mick jagger#tony visconti#earthling#tin machine#the velvet underground
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David Bowie - Reality (2003)
“The thing, probably, that keeps me writing is this awful feeling that there are no absolutes. That there is no truth. That we are, as I’ve been thinking for so many years now, fully in the swirl of chaos theory.” DB, 2003
I always learn new things about David Bowie whenever I listen through his complete discography chronologically, and this run through is no different. As I get close to the end here, I’m reminded how much less I know about these later works, due simply to the fact that they have existed for a much shorter time, and my experience with them is more limited. “Reality” rocks more than I realized on release day, especially coming off the heels of “Heathen” with all its layers and mystery and subtleties. An empty house afforded the opportunity to really crank this one up, a vinyl pass, and CD pass, and finally the 5.1 surround sound edition - and yeah - DB said he wanted a simpler sound, and wanted a record that could be translated into a live show easily and effectively and he got that in spades.
As with all his post-80’s work, and especially his post-heart attack material, “Reality” embraces the darker and more cynical side of DB’s many characters - from the irony of the album title with album art portraying a very cartoony space-man Bowie looking about as unreal and non-Reality as possible and still be recognizable - to DB’s insistence that he made a “positive!” record despite themes of aging and death, loneliness and anonymity, geopolitical strife, day-in-day-out mundanity and the creeping threat of urbanization to nature. Regarding the subject matter of Reality he told Interview Magazine, “This is probably a period when, more than any other time, the idea that our absolutes are disintegrating is manifest in real terms. Truths that we always thought we could stand by are crumbling before our eyes. It really is quite traumatic.”
I read quotes like that and I think, for a guy that is largely known for (and criticized for) his ability to synthesize the past and his surroundings into something entirely David-Bowieingly unique, he certainly shows skill at synthesizing the future as well. Beyond things like financial chicanery like Bowie Bonds and the impact of the internet on the creation and distribution of music, Bowie often hit at the very essence of what unites as well as divides.
The seeds of this malleablity of truth that DB describes had been planted in my country during the civil rights movement and the tragedy of the Vietnam War, but began to flower and bloom after the 9/11 event - affecting Bowie’s home turf and his family profoundly. Heathen is prescient, Reality is a little angry about things. DB took time to specifically say what Reality was not: it was not an angry album, it was not a response to 9/11, it was not his “New York Album” - but then he’d spend just as much time gently walking back those claims, almost wondering aloud if it was, in fact, all of those things and more. He speaks around this time about how naturally writing music came to him. Unforced, calmly. I think this “flow” is why you can glean so many little contradictions about Reality and it’s intentions and meaning. He’s letting it happen, not dictating the plot; the tensions of that city and that moment in time allowed to mold and shape the work. Polar opposite to the Heathen recording environment at Allaire Studios in the Catskill Mountains, Reality was recorded in the cramped Studio B of Philip Glass’s Looking Glass Studios in NYC and both those disparate studio choices impact their respective products acutely.
Reality is Bowie’s most “hands-on” record since Diamond Dogs, employing all his multi-instrumentalist abilities, and it’s also one of his most thoroughly demoed. Most all of Reality was demoed out in Studio B by DB and Tony Visconti playing all the instruments, with Mario McNulty (the same engineer DB would later trust with the posthumous reimagining/re-recording of Never Let Me Down) as studio assistant. According to Tony, he had a feeling that many of these “demo tracks” would not ever actually be re-recorded, so they were laid down at a useable fidelity. Consequently, much of the demo material survived on the final album. The band brought in for final overdubs was chosen with the live show in mind specifically. This was a smaller, tighter unit of BowieLive veterans and by all accounts recording was smooth and productive.
New Killer Star opens the record, and is also Reality’s debut single (that contained one of his more surprising B-sides, Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s ‘Love Missle F1-11’) and is a spectacular Earl Slick led hazy, woozy guitar statement.
This is followed by The Modern Lovers - Pablo Picasso - recorded in 1972 but delayed until their 1976 debut. This track mimics the space occupied by the Pixies cover Cactus - the second track on Heathen - DB pulling tracks from his past that he enjoys and placing them where they give the record momentum. Quite a different interpretation if you have heard the original - DB took liberties with both the lyric and the arrangement and it’s a cool little track.
Never Get Old follows and addresses the common theme of time and aging in DB compositions…. (Cygnet Committee, Time, Hearts Filthy Lesson, Changes, Fantastic Voyage, and many more) and the composition itself references much of his past in Space Oddities countdown, the elongated guitar strands of Heroes, bits of melody from Crack City, the four-walls-closing-in sense of Low and some of Hunky Dory’s ominous moments. A pounding live favorite.
…and seamlessly right into The Loneliest Guy. Anyone who saw the Reality Tour knows the captivating power of this piece, and it’s honesty and fragility was one of a few reasons why I thought this would be DB’s final album.
Looking For Water. Man, I *love* this song. It’s one of my favorite vocal performances on Reality and would certainly end up on my list of “underrated DB songs” were I compelled to make one. I like repetition in music, and it’s hypnotic and mantra-esque qualities - and this is one that always gets a significant volume boost.
She’ll Drive The Big Car - a supercool stab of Bowie sash and swagger, and a killer vocal performance, masking some seriously sad lyrics. Bowie manages to sound defiant, tired, funky, deferential, sexy and soulful all in the course of a single song. He’s such an effortlessly great singer, that’s it’s easy to become so accustomed to it that you almost miss it. It’s just “him.”
The exceedingly sweet “Days” fits nicely with all of Realities reflections, and has for me become a song I pay much more attention to since we lost the man to cancer.
Fall Dog Bombs The Moon is one of DB’s most overtly political songs, and was apparently written very quickly - under a half and hour - and directly addresses the Iraq War and the profiteering involved. Relatively bleak with murky lyrics, it’s a interesting and unique DB composition.
Try Some, Buy Some is just beautiful and I think one of Bowie’s most interesting and genuinely heart-felt covers (along with Waterloo Sunset, also from these sessions.) The inspiration to do this song comes directly from the 1971 Ronnie Spector version and the impact it had on him personally. DB seems to be absolutely sincere when he claimed that he had completely forgotten that it was a George Harrison composition until he sat down to work on the album credits.
Next up is the sizzling rocker Reality that has one foot in Tin Machine and one foot in The Next Day. Love Earl’s guitar sound here. Like New Killer Star, the guitar layers in this one sound amazing on the 5.1 surround mix.
Ahh yeah. Another in an amazing number of fantastic Bowie album closers. I’ve made it a point in my life to quit ranking art into “good/better/best/sucks categories and hierarchies and see art as an experience, not a competition. My friends know this about me, and consequently tease me and attempt to prod me into breaking this creed. Under unrelenting pressure to name a “favorite David Bowie track” I named Bring Me The Disco King.
I could give many reasons why this would be the one…. The repetition I mentioned earlier, here found in Matt Chamberlain’s drum loop (interestingly snagged from ‘When The Boys Come Marching Home,’) the overwhelming sense I had when I first heard it that this was DB’s final record, the sense that the threat of jazz that had always pounded on David’s door in his chord structures and harmonies had finally broken down the door… the very tangible sense that this was a composition that had already had a long life but stayed tucked into the shadows by its unsatisfied creator, only to be given life and light on this great album after it had been stripped down to almost nothing - simplicity being the sought after key to its finally being allowed to soar. If it’s not already obvious, I think this song is magnificent. Literally. The fact that David knew it was deep inside there, he just had to mine it out over the course of a decade or so is extraordinary.
Couple of thoughts about a track that didn’t fit well on Reality but made it to bonus/B-sides…
How cool is his cover of The Kinks Waterloo Sunset? In the years after his death, when I feel that loss in my heart, it’s Waterloo Sunset I turn up to 11 and allow it to yank me back out of that murk.
“People so busy
makes me feel dizzy
but I don’t feel afraid
as long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset
I am in paradise.”
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Harry Potter Talk
Settle in everyone, this is going to be a long one.
So a couple of days ago, I saw a massive anti-HP (the character) rant that really irritated me that I wanted to address.
Before I do, let's address the transphobic in the room. Rowling. Transphobia is detestable, and not wanting to support the series while that directly benefits and enriches her is a super valid stance. Also my personal stance, we support the trans people in this house!
Now that that's out of the way.
"Harry Potter, jock from a wealthy family" or something to that effect.
Regardless of how big his bank account is, remember how Harry was brought up? And by whom?
The Dursleys. The magic-hating child-abusers. Who forced Harry to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years. Who gave him Dudley's things secondhand. His mother's sister was so unwilling to spend a dime on him that she was dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray to use as Harry's school uniform.
His cousin Dudley, who delighted in tormenting him, and whose gang joined him in beating up Harry whenever Dudley felt bored enough that he wanted to beat him up for fun.
Is this the upbringing of a "rich jock"? He never used much of his wealth in the Muggle world and even in his school years he seems to know the importance of restraint, and sharing (in book one, he's delighted to be able to share with Ron, and in book four he gives the Twins a thousand galleons without a second thought). Dudley was the one who got thirty-six presents on his birthday and threw a fit coz it was less than what he'd got the previous year. Harry got a used tissue for Christmas. He was the one so not expecting any gifts at all that his best friend's mother packed him a hand-knitted sweater for him, and made his day.
Jock? He played the loneliest position in the Quidditch team. The Chasers and Keepers work together as a team, and the Beaters too, but Seekers are ignored by everyone--including the team--until it becomes apparent that they've spotted something.
Harry was quite popular when he joined the school, but that popularity mostly manifested as people pointing at his scar and whispering about him. Most made him uncomfortable. He only ever had a few friends he was comfortable with.
There were long periods when he was in fact an outcast. That time he lost fifty points for the thing with the dragon, or the time when the Ministry and the Newspapers had turned the entire Wizarding world against him. The time his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, all Houses except Gryffindor treated him like shit, and even the Gryffindors, while they were cheering for him, weren't paying much mind when he was saying that he didn't do it, or that he needed support. That one time, even Ron didn't stay by his side. He was all alone but for Hermione.
The only time he fit the bill of the jock was in book six, when he was too obsessed with what Malfoy was doing to give a damn about his newfound popularity. That was also when he chose the company of outcasts like Neville and Luna over popular hangers-on.
Yes, there are legit reasons to hate the character; he has a massive hero complex. He routinely gets his friends into trouble because of it. He has a very narrow and myopic perspective because of which he doesn't notice much outside of his mystery-hunter track (there was a time when I could illustrate that point better, but it's been a decade and more since I read the last book. I wanted to better read up before talking about this, but I can't bring myself to binge-read like I used to)
By contrast, yes James Potter was a 'jock'. But that's reason to hate him, not his son. Harry, when he sees Snape's worst memory, is rightly horrified. When Remus tries to make the "we were just fifteen" excuse, Harry reminds him "I'm fifteen!". (It should also be noted that Snape's memories obviously show his nemesis at his worst, whereas Remus Lupin--the Werewolf--tells Harry repeatedly that James and Sirius were there for him when no one else was. James risked his life to fight Voldemort, whereas Snape was happily on Voldy's side until that one person he cared about was marked for death by the Prophecy©. Snape was also an abusive bully well until he died--just ask Neville. Dumbledore has also told Harry that memories are fickle things, which can be changed, so the chances that Snape simmered in this memory and unconsciously distilled it to make his old nemeses seem even worse--or himself seem like the angel who wouldn't hurt a fly--also exist. As someone who's experienced bullying, mockery, etc, I know this self-serving tendency of memory quite well. Though this bit is speculation on my part. )
Regarding the sillier names like Pansy Parkinson, and mean descriptions
In addition, when the series began, it started as a children's series, hence the Roald Dahl-like non-villain bad guys of the early part, and the "hate-me-I'm-nasty" names they were given. The Dursleys. Dudley Dursley aka Dudders. "Pansy Parkinson". Everyone was more caricature than character. That's how they are in children's books.
Many people are also described in a way to make the reader immediately dislike them. Malfoy is pale, with a pointy chin. Snape is an oily man with a large beaked nose and greasy hair. Rita Skeeter has a mannish jaw. Umbridge has a face like a toad. All of this is again in keeping with the Roald Dahl theme. Whether it's Augustus Gloop, Veruca Salt, Mike Teavee, Violet Beauregarde or their mannerisms and descriptions make readers feel an instant dislike for them.
When the series became more... Mature, those caricatures can start finding their critics. Never mind that such caricatures and worse can be found in thousands of other works, like Superhero comics for instance. Yes, no one names their children "Pansy" but Slytherin was an allegory for white supremacist type people. Back in those days, JK wanted them to be hated without reserve, much as she wanted bigotry and racism to be (irony, considering where she stands today).
Death of the Author
In the text there is no real transphobia that I can remember, other than that description of Rita having a "mannish jaw" (I admit that I haven't read it in ages, but I am still certain of this). Once the material is out in print, everyone is free to interpret it as they choose. Whenever JK comes out with clarifications or retcons or something--as she is known to do anyway--it's still more of her headcanon than in-world truth. If there is no outright mention of something in the text, then it doesn't matter what meaning the author intended to convey. What matters is what each reader makes of it. In the case of Harry Potter, the enemy are clearly folks obsessed with blood purity: Purebloods.
Lazy names
I'm going to speak specifically about the Indian names here: Parvati and Padma Patil.
While India is a large country and the name is more common in certain regions than others, I had heard that Patel/Patil surname is quite common in Britain. And really in Indian cinema the most common girls' names are Priya (Big Bang Theory as well) or Pooja, many girls in this side of the screen have goddess names. Like "Parvati". Many people also keep the same first letter for names for twins, or even in families (for instance, my parents, sister, and I, all have names starting with "A"), so "Padma" is a nice choice of name. And really, Padma and Parvati Patil are much better names than "Khan Noonien Singh" (now there's a lazy name).
Everyone insists that Star Trek's Khan is supposed to be of Indian origin, but with a name like that and an actor with a Mexican accent... I don't really think so. It was because of this silly character generation that I didn't particularly mind him being played by the very white Benedict Cumberbatch.
But the Patil twins. Them I can feel that connection to.
Races of the main cast
Now this might be something contentious, so I apologise for that in advance.
No one cares what Harry is, though since Petunia is noted as being pale, and Lily has red hair, the unknown factor is James Potter. Was he black? That would make Harry biracial at best.
Ron is written as a freckled boy with red hair, and all Weasleys share that look.
As for Hermione... She is the poster child of the blood-purity bigotry bias. When reading her, people are supposed to understand that the prejudice against her is certainly her Muggle-born origin; not her skin color, not her nationality, not her sexual orientation. Which is why I feel it's necessary that she stand out as less as possible in those other ways. For this reason I think that it was a good idea to portray her as white.
Here are characters who are specifically noted as black: Dean Thomas, Michael Corner (both of whom were Ginny's boyfriends), Kingsley Shacklebolt, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Lee Jordan, Blaise Zabini (who's noted as being very handsome, and quite popular). Aside from these we have a few token people of Indian and Chinese origin. Speaking again as an Indian, I don't really mind. This is a British story set in a mid-nineties British school only accepting students from the British Isles. It makes sense to me if there are few Indians.
What does all of this translate to? There are legit reasons to hate both the character and the series. So don't make stuff up, especially if you're ignoring the text to do it. Don't confuse the author and their work, even if you have resolved not to buy that work and thereby support her.
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“despite what you may have read in the gossip press, Swift hasn’t been involved with a man in quite some time. She’s not dating. She’s not canoodling. She’s not even sexting. Taylor Swift is single and loving it.
“I really like my life right now,” she says. “I have friends around me all the time. I’ve started painting more. I’ve been working out a lot. I’ve started to really take pride in being strong. I love the album I made. I love that I moved to New York. So in terms of being happy, I’ve never been closer to that.” Which is not necessarily the same as being happy….Swift leads the way into one of her four guest bedrooms. “This is where Karlie usually stays,” she says – meaning supermodel Karlie Kloss, one of her new BFFs, whom she met nine months ago at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. There’s a basket of Kloss’s favorite Whole Foods treats next to the bed, and multiple photos of her on the walls….Shoshanna gets excited about things, she’s really girly. And when she was in a relationship that was very comfortable, she made the decision to get out and go experience new things on her own. And now she’s becoming more sure of herself and taking life head-on, in a way that I can relate to….Heading back downstairs, she passes an antique lamp with the inscription CALADIUM SEGUINUM on it. Swift took Latin in high school, but says she isn’t sure what it means. (Later, I look it up. It turns out it’s a homeopathic remedy for male impotence.)...Different phases of your life have different levels of deep, traumatizing heartbreak,” Swift says. “And in this period of my life, my heart was not irreparably broken. So it’s not as boy-centric of an album, because my life hasn’t been boycentric.” In fact, she suggests, she hasn’t dated at all since breaking up with One Direction singer Harry Styles more than a year and a half ago. “Like, have not gone on a date,” she says. “People are going to feel sorry for me when you write that. But it’s true. Swift says dating is hard for her. For one thing, there’s the logistics. “Seventy percent of the time, when a guy asks me out, it’ll just be a random e-mail,” she says. Some movie star will get her address from his publicist and e-mail her cold. Usually she politely rebuffs them – but even if someone did penetrate that line of defense, building a relationship is hard.
“I feel like watching my dating life has become a bit of a national pastime,” Swift says. “And I’m just not comfortable providing that kind of entertainment anymore. I don’t like seeing slide shows of guys I’ve apparently dated. I don’t like giving comedians the opportunity to make jokes about me at awards shows. I don’t like it when headlines read ‘Careful, Bro, She’ll Write a Song About You,’ because it trivializes my work. And most of all, I don’t like how all these factors add up to build the pressure so high in a new relationship that it gets snuffed out before it even has a chance to start. And so,” she says, “I just don’t date.”
(That goes for hooking up as well. “I just think it’s pointless if you’re not in love,” Swift says. “And I don’t have the energy to be in love right now. So, no.”)
Truth be told, Swift sounds a tiny bit jaded – which, for a “self-professed hopeless romantic,” maybe isn’t the worst thing to be. “It’s not like I’ve sworn off love,” she says. “My life is just not conducive to bringing other people into it right now. I’m very childlike and romantic about lots of things, but I’m realistic about this.”
Swift pauses, searching for a metaphor that will help her explain herself. “Have you heard of the Loneliest Whale? There’s this whale – I think Adrian Grenier is making a documentary about it. It swims through the ocean, and it has a call unlike any other whale’s. So it doesn’t have anyone to swim with. And everybody feels so sorry for this whale – but what if this whale is having a great time? Because it’s not bad that I’m not hopelessly in love with someone. It’s not a tragedy, and it’s not me giving up and being a spinster. Although I did get another cat.” She laughs. “I asked around: I was like, ‘Does two cats count as cats?’ But then I thought, what imaginary guy’s perspective am I thinking about this from? Someone is going to think I’m undateable for a lot of reasons before they think I’m undateable because I have two cats….Two years ago she told Vogue she wanted to be friends with Kloss; now they’re going to the gym together and taking road trips to Big Sur.) Swift says this is another byproduct of being single. “When your number-one priority is getting a boyfriend, you’re more inclined to see a beautiful girl and think, ‘Oh, she’s gonna get that hot guy I wish I was dating,'” she says. “But when you’re not boyfriend-shopping, you’re able to step back and see other girls who are killing it and think, ‘God, I want to be around her.'” As an example, she cites her pal Lorde, whom she calls Ella. “It’s like this blazing bonfire,” Swift says. “You can either be afraid of it because it’s so powerful and strong, or you can go stand near it, because it’s fun and it makes you brighter….Sometimes the lines in a song are lines you wish you could text-message somebody in real life,” she says. “I would just be constantly writing all these zingers – like, ‘Burn. That would really get her.’ And I know people are going to obsess over who it’s about, because they think they have all my relationships mapped out. But there’s a reason there are not any overt call-outs in that song. My intent was not to create some gossip-fest.”(x)
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november 12
peu à peu by @zombiesolace [requested by @jsteneil]
see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!
this is a really interesting character study on post-canon kevin and how he finds his place within the foxes and deals with the aftermath of the events within the series. this fic has a lot of introspection and does a really great job of unpacking everything.
this is such an intriguing fic to me, i don’t see that many that really delve into kevin and his thoughts. i can’t imagine how difficult of a time he must have, both throughout the series and during post-canon events. this fic really made me better appreciate the struggles that he goes through because it’s really common to have his actions portrayed without any of this explanation or why he acts in certain ways. we always see his single-mindedness with respect to exy and just kind of write it off as kevin being kevin. i think you effectively explored his character and inner thoughts.
some parts that stood out to me:
“it goes like this: they lose.” uhm somehow you were able to break my heart in the first two lines of the fic? i love the simplicity of the way you worded this, it contrasts really well with the significance of what it means, for the foxes, but especially for kevin.
kevin yelling at the team after the loss feels very in character. it reminds me of what he was apparently like when coaching the foxes prior to playing, and we see a little bit of it in the books themselves. it really comes down to the fact that kevin is desperate. for a lot of the foxes, the loss stings, but at the end of the day it’s just a loss. the criticism is harsh and they don’t understand why kevin is so hard on them. to kevin, it’s his life. not just because of the fact that he’s definitely trying to go pro and have exy as his career and not just because the moriyamas are definitely watching over him, but because that’s how he was raised as a child. kevin’s terrible childhood is somewhat overshadowed by the rest of the foxes, but he likely still has trauma from how he was raised in the nest, under the master and riko. so much pressure that it feels natural that he wants to try and regain control in some way.
”they’re a team, they fall together. and yet after each game this year, kevin has found himself falling apart alone. biting shame and swallowing frustration as he tears into each overanalyzed mistake” i find in life it’s so easy to isolate yourself from the people around you. the foxes probably find it hard to be sympathetic towards kevin, but they probably don’t realise that as harsh as he is to them, he is exponentially more critical of himself. in your own head, mistakes can be an unending loop, constant and distracting. this fic is really opening my eyes to what kevin is dealing with and appreciating him so much more.
”their win last year was a fluke. a gift given to them by virtue of the trojans. a simply byproduct of the hardiness of the foxes and the instability of riko’s collapsing domain.” ohmygoodness nooo it’s always so hard for me as an outsider to see kevin (and really anyone) struggle with the imposter syndrome. so many people (including many talented fanfic authors!!) write off their talent, skill, and hard work as fluke or luck as opposed to the many hours spent bettering themselves and practicing.
”it is with an overwhelming sense of dread that kevin thinks of his death. with each day the reality of riko’s loss feels more sure… kevin wishes riko’s ghost had followed. he wishes riko were still alive. he wishes he were alone, he wishes he weren’t.” wow i love the way you wrote this, with his conflicting thoughts. since we experienced the series through neil’s pov, riko’s death feels more like victory and less like a loss. it’s something to be celebrated. but i think it can almost be seen as similar to mary’s death, which neil mourned. both characters were abusive and did things that were wrong. and yet, they were loved. whether we like it or not, riko was kevin’s family and though their relationship was twisted and manipulated, especially as they grew older, riko was the person that kevin was closest to. emotions are so complicated and i bet kevin feels like he can’t discuss this with the other foxes, who don’t quite understand.
”he knows that his commentary is far more nuanced by virtue of being a fox. kevin takes the out and opens the folder he has on the roadrunners.” this is kind of small, but i find it has some significance. it can be so easy to do the thing that you know is self destructive and get caught in a rabbit hole of pages and articles of bad. good on kevin for not doing that.
”the name wymack clings to his tongue. coach sits temptingly at the back of his palette. my dad, his mind whispers, the words clear and intrusive.” ugH it must be so so hard for kevin to work through this. i love these lines.
”andrew pokes his head out of the bedroom. he stares blankly at kevin, his hair mussed… he leaves the door partially ajar. kevin feels something in his chest loosen.” oo i really really liked this part. andrew has his own unique way of showing that he cares and i love seeing the small things that he does.
the whole conversation between dan and kevin is so interesting. the actual information that you’re sharing about exy and the way that they interact. i think you did a great job of showing a realistic back and forth.
”riko was always right there. kevin never had to call him.” these two sentences, and actually that whole section is really just so heartbreaking. you do a great job of making me understand kevin, something i haven’t really done so before.
”that’s not true. he does know. he enjoys having the ability to express his opinion. it’s a novelty he’s still getting used to.” oh, kevin.
”kevin can’t see any of the foxes. they disappeared into the store moments upon arrival and three out of the four are too short to be seen over the aisles.” lol what a mood (i am short)
kevin’s interaction with the fans is so interesting. i wonder if he often dealt with actually meeting fans during his time as a raven. it’s also really interesting to see neil from this point of view, he almost seems… unfamiliar? but not in a bad way. it kind of really brings us into the perspective of kevin.
abby-kevin relationship is so nice. i think it’s great that kevin has a maternal figure that he can find comfort in
the section on kayleigh is just so so sad. it makes me feel grief for someone i never knew. it aches knowing that she was such a wonderful woman, that kevin had her and now he doesn’t.
”’wooo!’ nicky shouts, ‘now that was a wake up call i didn’t need.’” ohmygoodness i love the way that you write nicky! it really lightens the fic a bit more.
honestly the bit about jean being waterboarded is horrifying to me.
i like that wymack took kevin to riko’s funeral. there’s a sense of closure that has to do with it, kevin being with his real family while saying goodbye to what used to be his family
”he doesn’t recall riko breaking his had. he remembers before, and he remembers after but he doesn’t remember the moment his life changed.” i really appreciate the formatting you used with this, the line separating the first sentence, the way that you broke up the second sentence into two lines. it feels more impactful, more significant.
”he can see nicky and aaron showing off their most ridiculous dance moves in the corner for one another” oh my goodness this is amazing
“he wonders if they’ll call him an ex-fox when he graduates or if he’ll always be labeled an ex-raven. the nest had a quiet energy that fox tower doesn’t.” oh oh i like this a lot
also i like how you broke up the texts with paragraphs of kevin’s thoughts. it shows the gaps between his texts more and i feel his loneliness more keenly. the double-texting with the periods between reminds me of when i am at my loneliest
i love kevin’s conversation with jeremy. he’s known as one of the nicest, brightest characters in the series, but we really see why. how he is able to relax kevin and just speak to him.
your explanation of kevin choosing history as his major is so insightful, i’ve never really considered it, but now i wish i had
”i want andrew to enjoy himself. he does it rarely, kevin, you’re aware of that” renne is just so great.
the part about kevin using twitter, especially as a way to try and connect with thea is so interesting to me.
”’does he know you’re better than he is?’ she’d whispered in his ear” I LOVE THIS LINE what a turning point in kevin’s journey
ahh the part about nicky telling andrew about the conspiracy station, it’s so nice to see the way they are bonding like his
andrew is such a complicated character, i absolutely adore the way that you write him. a lot of the time i read a softer side of him, through the perspective of neil. kevin and andrew have a fascinating relationship, i love seeing it from kevin. “he gives kevin a thumbs up”, “i hear you, andrew says” these are so perfect
wymack giving kevin an extra jacket is peak dad behaviour.
recently i’ve been so fond of seeing authors incorporate the title of their fic into the writing. this is no different, it makes the title have that much more meaning “little by little, the bird builds his nest” i love this. how did you come across this quote? it’s so fitting for this fic
the dynamic between dan, wymack, and kevin is so so interesting. wymack and kevin are so similar that sometimes i guess it causes a distance because they’re not the best at communication. and it must be hard. they’re related, but still have so much to learn about each other. i guess i’ve never though much of how close dan and wymack are. you do a really good job at capturing the tension that exists, the interactions.
”he thinks a lot of people would rather he never spoke again” oh no this hit me hard
the little part where kevin and dan are talking about neil’s shot, i like this little bonding that we see. exy is the thing that has brought them together
”’you’ll make a good wymack,’ he says. dan jerks back, her mouth open, and her eyes stunned.” oh this is so nice
”he wants to say he’s my dad, but he’s hers too; hers more so and that’s dan’s point. what would he know? ‘he saved me too,’ he says instead” oh my goodness i love this so much
sorry but neil and kevin teaming up and nicky and aaron teaming up so that andrew loses is the best part of this fic and anyone that believes otherwise can fight me!!! “when they arrive in columbia andrew makes an aborted move like he will shut neil out of their room and it’s the first time kevin hears something like a laugh from neil.” this is so soft i needed this
go thea!!! thank you for making her so amazing in this fic!!! i like how you write their relationship, it’s refreshing and really interesting, we don’t know that much about thea
THEA TAKING OFF HER NECKLACE WHEN KEVIN CHANGES HIS TATTOO THIS IS THE BEST
there’s so much that you covered in this fic. kevin’s relationship with exy, riko, the rest of the foxes, wymack. i love the way that you worked through everything. the gradual improvement of the foxes following with kevin’s mental health improving. but we can really see how far he has come when they lose and he’s okay with it. you made me feel so close to kevin. your writing is wonderful, so many little details that just build to make this fic amazing. thank you so much for writing this!
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Murray, I have asked you repeatedly not to call me "woman".
A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Oh, oh, oh ! Y’all don’t know how happy I am to be accepting this application. Dylan is truly one of my CHW faves and to have her taken up by you, Cailin... that’s just an honor. I can not wait to see what you do with her, but I know one thing... this dash ain’t ready fro the looks Dylan is about to serve us. Thank you so much for applying and welcome back, love !
OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:
cailin, (she/her), 25, est
DESIRED CHARACTER:
queen mother, dylan davenport
HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?
8-10
SECONDARY CHOICE:
taylor flick
DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:
Dylan is shrouded in beauty, bold fashion choices, witty comebacks, and her daddy’s debit card. But the woman wearing the Amina Muaddi heels to 7/11 is much more interesting than her out of this world clothes. If Chanel’s head is in the clouds, Dylan’s feet are planted on the ground. She’s the fuel to the fire, the one who gets shit done. Things don’t move without her — and that includes the fashion scene in Rosewood. Dylan could’ve been a surgeon, she has the brains and attention to detail for it, but, you see, what Dylan says or doesn’t say goes. She predicted high waist jeans making a comeback before Vogue did, telling the girls one day during first period. So she’s a bit of a culture oracle. It’s why people care about what she’s thinking, who she’s endorsing, what designers she’s buying. They even want to know what she’s watching on a monday night. Her confidence and sincerity is inspiring. When she’s not taste making though, she’s the loyalest, most straightforward friend you can find in her tax bracket. Balancing the thin line between being no-nonsense and fun to be around. She does it well, though. In fact, she does most things well (driving not included.) Her peers boast about her style and charisma, her professors brag about her work ethic and creativity, her boyfriend….well, her love life is a tumultuous roller coaster but every icon needs a fixer upper. Plus she gets diamonds every time he fumbles.
SAMPLE WRITING:
( Alexa, play Daddy )
The day Dylan was born she became a daddy’s girl. Stevie Wonder could see it. Dada was her first word much to her mother’s chagrin. He never raised his voice at her, never got impatient with her when she spilled her juice or threw her food. He got up in the middle of the night so his wife wouldn’t have to even though he had meetings at 7 in the morning. It didn’t stop there, though. Mr. Davenport didn’t put her down at parties. He carried her around on his hip as he mingled and held court, demanding on no one use baby talk for his brilliant baby girl. “She’s smart like her mom.” He would say to his captivated audience. For her third birthday he rented out an entire amusement park. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t yet tall enough to ride the rides, she had asked for it so he made it happen. He was a doer and a fixer, but he wasn’t perfect. Mr. Davenport had always been a better father and provider than a husband.
So, when she was five, her parents went through a nasty divorce. The papers their lawyers drew up cited irreconcilable differences but she’d come to realize, many years later, that was just how rich people skirted around the truth in hopes of keeping people out of their business. In truth, Mr. Davenport had spent the better part of his career sleeping with secretaries, temps, and clients. Basically anything that was of age and not nailed down. Mrs. Davenport had only grown tired of it after watching Halle Berry cry over Eric Benet on Oprah. But like she’d taught Dylan, Mrs. Davenport thought three steps ahead, and had arranged to have a cheating clause in their prenup. She saw the board before she’d even stepped foot on it. And, Sure, they’d been in love when they got married at twenty three, but a cheater never changed its spots, just his lies. In an instant, she got half of everything. Twenty percent of his future earnings, and 360 lipo for a girls trip to Maui to celebrate her emancipation.
All Dylan got out of the deal was two houses, two birthdays, two Christmases, two cars she still couldn’t drive when she turned sixteen. The court awarded them joint custody, ruling they both had enough sense to figure out the schedule on their own. But since that was the year her mom went back to school for her PhD, Dylan spent the majority of her time with her dad and a nanny. Those double holidays also served as a good distraction from the heartbreak she couldn’t explain. Though she was sharp as a whip and actually funny, not laugh because it’s a kid funny, but really funny, she still couldn’t wrap her little mind around why her parents drove to separate houses at the end of the night now. At all those parties, what stuck out the most was everyone saying what a handsome couple they were, how lucky they were to have another. They danced and laughed. They seemed so happy. But looks are deceiving and lucky for her, the loneliest year of her young life was also the year she met her best friend.
( Alexa, play Wannabe )
Dylan and Chanel became an instant package deal, and she thanked her father for not being able to keep his dick out of seedy holes because she wouldn’t have went to school in another district if her mom hadn’t won the house in the divorce, and she wouldn’t have sat down next to Chanel at show and tell, and they wouldn’t have bonded over their pretty dresses, or shared their organic apple juice. God worked in mysterious ways like that. She had a partner for life, and nothing came between them. Not even boys. And, despite having the power to date any eligible bachelor in her grade, she really liked one in particular.
The day she brought Paxton home her took one look at him and chuckled. Dylan figured it was because of the grill he hadn’t learned to talk without slurring with yet, but her mother had other ideas. “He reminds me of your father.” She said, long after he’d gone home, but not before Dylan spent fifteen minutes walking him to his car. The driveway was super long but her lipstick was nonexistent when she returned. That didn’t matter though, because Dylan knew what that meant. Her mom thought Paxton was charming, likable, handsome — but she also knew he was a liar and a dog. They argued for well over an hour, and she said some things she regretted but that’s what teenage girls did, they rebelled against becoming their mother all while doing so. She didn’t realize just how much he was like her father until she caught him DMing other girls on instagram and got a diamond necklace out of the deal. Still, it was clear that he could shoot a man in broad daylight and she would always be daddy’s little girl, nothing could change that.
“Daddy!” Dylan whined, clinging to her dad’s arm as they traipsed through another commercial property with their real estate agent. Today was the day she was finally going to buck up and switch locations from her dad’s pool house to an office space in scenic, downtown Rosewood. Being interviewed by magazines had been life changing, sitting front row of the hottest runways next to A-listers had its perks, doing a skincare routine video for vogue was dope, but expanding her business because the calls wouldn’t stop coming in to be styled be Dylan and her associates? That was something she’d done herself from the ground up. She’d started with styling her friends and now she was going to style the world.
( Alexa, play Successful )
Her heels were tall enough to greet God but she still only reached his shoulder. “I hope this one has vaulted ceilings.” Her tone was way past passive aggressive. She would’ve dialed it back had their agent not been set to make serious bank off of this, but had only been showing them office spaces with disgusting lighting and rude doormen. For all of their sakes, she hoped this one was better. “I need two sessions of hot yoga after the last mess you showed us, at least. My chakras are all out of wack now. Thanks a lot, A.” She was being dramatic but her dad didn’t stop her. He just smiled that infamous smile at the agent and excused himself to the back of the elevator to take a call. Dylan rolled her eyes when she caught their real estate agent, Angela, fawning. She was a slender woman with the proportion of a fashion model who only modeled in theory, never practice. With cropped hair and full lips. She’d been their families real estate agent for decades, found the house her mom had one in the divorce, but Dylan couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d slept with her dad while he was married to her mom, and for that she hated her.
The light dinged to signal they were at their floor, and the elevator doors slid open. When she bothered lifting them from a lengthy text she was typing to her beau, her eyes lit up like when her dad gifted her a patek for her eighteenth, or the G-Wagon that was still collecting dust in the garage for her sixteenth. Whatever the occasion was, she was aglow just like then. The floors were European oak, all the walls were white sans a charcoal accent wall that would be the space of her future desk, and yes, the ceilings were vaulted with windows to match. It was beyond.
“Daddy!” She squealed, running around the space and dreaming up renovation ideas. “This is the one. It’s, like, perfect.” Dylan ignored the real estate agent when she repeated the price tag. 1.2 million may have been a lot for some people, but some people weren’t his little girl and Angela should have known that by now. “Wait. I need to call Chanel!” Dylan could bet she’d be calling Chanel the day Play got down on one knee ( What? A girl could dream ) before she even said yes. She was greeted with a selfie when she unlocked her phone, tapping her chanel platform sneaker clad foot against the wood while the facetime call connected, “What do you think about staining the floor another color?” She asked before absolutely beaming when Chanel’s face appeared on the screen.
“I found it! I found the perfect space.” Without another word, she flipped the camera and did a little dance when Chanel’s excitement nearly exceeded hers. She knew a squeal of absolute glee when she heard one, “I know! Ok, so Just imagine a chaise here, we can install some shelves here. Do you think we can get a Prosecco fountain?…” She walked her through the office like Angela had done moments before, moving out of earshot so her dad could handle business, while they discussed all the possibilities. “Today an office with a view, tomorrow Dylan Davenport’s Fashion Academy,” she beamed.
All her daddy had to do was sign on the dotted line, and she knew he would. He was, after all, her doer. He wouldn’t dare break that illusion…right? The journey from the bathroom back to the main area of the office space was a short one, and she was all smiles until she rounded the corner only for her dream to turn into a nightmare. Her face cracked along with the screen of her phone as it hit the ground and shattered, “DADDY!” She screamed. The sight of her dad and Angela kissing over paperwork causing her to gag instantly.
“Honey, let me explain…..”
There was nothing to explain. Horrible step parents was Jasper’s lane, not hers.
( Alexa, play Ring Off )
ANYTHING ELSE?
1985.
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I Used to Think My Abusive Relationship Was My Fault. Now I Know I’m worth more.
I have spent most of my teenage years in emotionally and physically abusive relationships. Until a almost a year ago, I thought I was the worst kind of damaged goods, a girl who could only love men who hurt her I means that’s been my past since I was 15. 5 years now! I didn't want to talk about my experiences at first because I thought that my kind of pain was self-inflicted. If I was stupid enough to stay, I deserved it,
I know there are three sides to every story. In this article, you're going to hear one and that’s mine - Aimee Carver. I don't write this with venom. The men I've been involved with were handsome, smart, charming and talented. There were good times. The bad times outweighed them.
Most people don't know I've been in (to clarify again) emotionally abusive relationships. From the outside, I'd bet my life looks pretty great. Some parts of it always were. I guess I am proof that there is no likely candidate for abuse.
For a long time, I found my romantic past, when the hits started happening I started dreaming of all my ex-boyfriends again.
Trauma is a funny thing. It hides in the shadowy corners of your mind, resurfacing when all you want is for it to be erased from your memory forever.
I'm writing this for a lot of reasons. Some of them are:
I think abusive relationships are an epidemic in our society. It could help someone understand their friend, their sister, their daughter who keeps going back. It could help someone who keeps going back. Because articles like this helped me. Because what trauma really wants is a voice. To anyone who needs help, You think you are crazy. You're anxious all the time. Your heart beats quickly. You have a lot of questions for your boyfriend at the time that you don't feel like you can ask. You wonder if you're always being lied to. You spend a lot time in the past, likely when you first fell in love him. You apologize constantly two your new lover, When you explain your fights to anyone who will listen, no one understands why you're apologizing. You are always confused. You're high as a fucking kite when he's nice to you. He says "one small thing," and with an embarrassing clarity, you are reminded of all the parts of yourself you hate. How can he see those parts so clearly? You cry a lot, you hide a lot. Sometimes you know why. Sometimes you don't.
You are not crazy even if you think your going insane your not.
When you're with your boyfriend in my case my ex you're usually with just him alone. You feel weird around your friends and family, the people you used to feel the most yourself and safest around. You can't remember how to feel like yourself anymore. Now, being in your own skin is like a long dull headache that won't lift and then that slowly feels like normal. Pretty much all your thoughts about yourself are negative.
"I used to be funny, why aren't I funny anymore?"
You think you are crazy.
“Why ain’t I perfect”
“Why ain’t I skinny”
“Jumping over a hug”
There will be good days with your boyfriend. There will be miraculous days of exquisite and suffering beauty between you two.
The sad truth - On these days, you will feel better than the best and like everything's okay. You will believe that the chaos has made you stronger; that he loves you more than anything. These days are bright spots in the darkness that has descended upon you. They are the moments of hope that you'll cling to, your proof that everything is okay, until one wrong word is said and your in hospital due to his harsh actions.But at that time moments aren't a life. Moments aren't enough. You deserve weeks, months and years of feeling like everything is okay. You deserve a lifetime of that.When your relationship ends like mine did, you will drown in the confusing, competing narratives in your head, just like you did while in the relationship. Memory is going to be a weird thing for you for a while. Grief is a delusional state.
We really loved each other (so you thought) I could've helped him if I'd tried harder (but you tried and failed) I'm not perfect. And sometimes, I don't think love should feel like this.
The latter will be quieter, the former will roar inside you. Some days, you will think you left the most beautiful relationship and the truest love in the whole world. Some days you will think you are just hysterical and crazy and that you weren't being abused at all. Until very recently, I still had days like that. After you break up with him, you might not feel an immediate sense of relief, empowerment or really anything that resembles "I know this is the right thing." You will likely feel very alone. Unfortunately, coming out of the fog with your eyes open is more painful than slipping into one without noticing.
But just always remember: feelings aren't the truth. You aren't the worst off you've ever been. Expect the sadness. It sounds crazy but welcome it. That sadness is going to live in you for a long time and it will teach you a lot. I know you don't believe me, but that sadness is your friend. That sadness is your becoming.
Not everyone you lose is a loss.
Tell your story no matter how murky the details seem at first. Keep talking. Read every article you can find on abuse until you feel an intellectual understanding of what happened tunnel into you emotionally. The head will come first, your heart will follow; it will all become clearer.
If you're lucky like I was, you'll find a therapist that can help you. And now I’m in a healthy, beautiful, loving relationship with my boyfriend Louis. It’s early stages but it’s the best kind of love feeling ever. He taught me what love is like, he taught me care but most of all he taught me to be myself again and for that im greatful every single day to you!
Don’t get me wrong you will have to reflect on your past relationship. Don't blame yourself for not leaving sooner, and don't let anyone else blame you, either. In moments of trauma and shock the brain has a funny way of protecting itself. It's called disassociating. You have done a lot of this. You will remember about three months in your ex-boyfriend did something and it was like a mask was lifted. He showed you a person you had never met before. I mention this because statistically an abusive person will do something that throws you completely off balance within the first three months. Then, they will be really sorry.
You will come to learn that real love is not a cycle of cruelty, effusive apologies, a honey-moon period, then a dreaded waiting for the other shoe to drop followed by more cruelty. Abusive relationships are defined by this pattern. When you do leave, you will realize that the space that your relationship took up was enormous. It was, whether you knew it or not, the monkey on the back of every thought you had. When it's gone, the emptiness left in its wake will feel like an ocean around you
It will take way longer than you want to "get over it," and you will think you will never reach the shore.
You will. When I was newly single and going on dates, this is how it went. First, I dated blindly and way more than I should have. I was attracted to guys who were like all my ex-boyfriends, physically and emotionally. Then, I started dating people who were completely different but whom I was not ready to love. Like a teacher, I observed how they treated me with a confusing detachment and thought, "Oh, so this is what it should be like."
"So, this is what kindness is like."
Dating made me feel like the loneliest person in the world for a long time. I wish now I hadn't done it at all, but withdrawal is painful and uncomfortable. I was willing to try anything to feel just a little better. But trust me just like me your king will find his way to you and it will be a little weird at first but that weirdness goes and it will become the most perfect thing in your life.
But in every process till you are full over it You will miss your ex boyfriend in a way you didn't know was possible and you don't think should be allowed. You will want to get back together. Abusive relationships fuck your brain chemistry up. They're addictive, and the withdrawal is not fun.
Don't worry tho baby girl.. with time, your brain will even out. In awhile, you won't want to be with him anymore. Crying helps you detox, so do a lot of it( I still cry alone due to all the horrible flashbacks and memories) you just have to find someone who’s willing to understand and help you over come them not make them worse. So does sleeping, exercise, therapy, eating healthy, seeing your friends and laughing.
For me, alcohol didn't really help I broke down every time trying to kill myself due to the fact of feeling so dirty and broken Or I guess, it did, until it didn't.
When you're in the withdrawal phase, you'll begin to understand why you thought being in an abusive relationship was okay for you. You're going to have to look at a lot of your past and your inherited patterns it’s best to do that alone.. It can get heavy but knuckle through it. You can do it. I’m proof that it can be done.
You will tell people that know your ex-boyfriend about what happened and how he treated you. Likely, no one will be surprised by his behaviour. Likely, no one will confront him. This is one of the saddest parts of our world. You will feel like the last one in on a sick joke.
Your ex-boyfriend will probably never apologize to you. If you do hear from him or see him, he will make you feel crazy. He's really good at that (like sending pics of him and his new girlfriend kissing) He will likely minimize your history, dismiss your relationship and pull the rug out from under you again. The way he frames you and your relationship will be distorted.
I believe that amends can happen, but usually, not in a timely manner. Like you need time to really unpack and understand why it all happened, so will he. Now factor into this that you have the desire to understand yourself and your behaviour. The closure you desire is a myth and it's not reachable in one conversation. Closure happens slowly and keeps happening. You'll give it to yourself.
If you leave your boyfriend for someone else, beware. Until you truly understand why you were in the situation you were, emotionally and intellectually, your subconscious will have a sad way of attracting an identical relationship that looks completely different from the outside. This is not always true.
At first, when the fog is lifting, you will look at your past self with shock and disgust. Then, later, you will look at your past self with sadness. Then, with understanding. Finally, you feel the most visceral pride for the moment you left, even if you didn't want to because you did that on the blind faith that life might be better on the other side. You did that on hope alone. You didn't know what you do now. That's so brave.
“You are so brave”- the only words I need to hear yet waiting for it.
I know how scared you are. I still get scared. My years of all the recovery has been the most challenging and rewarding of my life. It's not perfect and I don't think it ever will be. I get lonely and restless. I live with those feelings. Actually, I try to understand them. One day, your life will look like a version of mine. Things will keep getting better and better, faster and faster. Good things will keep finding you. You will be really happy. That happiness will get so big that you won't notice how the sadness is lifting until it's almost gone.
My life is full of hard work, art, friends who love and support me, friends that I am lucky to know. I have more energy than I know what to do with. I am the most productive I have ever been. I sing, I dance, I have meaningful conversation, I rest, I laugh a lot, I stay out too late. I am closer to my family than ever before. I found my way back to my old friends.
Maybe I'm becoming myself again.
Finally, (I know you're worried about this) you will meet someone else. You will fall in love again and this time, it will be about more than your wounds matching up with someone else's. It will be different and it will be better(I’m proof of that too my new boyfriend is my world for all the good reasons) But something becomes more important to you than romantic love and it's called self-worth. It will feel like it happens almost over night, but you will grow to love the person you are.
You should.
You fought hard to become her.
So love her.
Love Tiggz
AimeeCarver
Xx
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It’s been a time!!!
Part of me cannot fathom that I have 4 days left and the other part of me is screaming for it to come sooner. I honestly am at a loss for words when trying to sum up these past 134 days. I cannot thank my parents enough for allowing me to travel so far away from home for so long. Their trust in God to protect me and guide me is so inspiring. And God has done more than what my parents or even I could have prayed for. Life is full of crazy ups and downs and I feel like I have experienced them all these past few months. From crazy highs where I pinch myself because these things cannot be real, to lows that remind me that God is ever-present. However, I thought I would share with you all some of my favorite memories from my time abroad. I know I have left out many stories and trips I have taken on this blog. BUT since I’ve been writing papers and taking exams this past month, I haven’t really felt like sitting down and writing more.
BUT THE TIME HAS COME TO FINALLY SHARE:
As I sit in my room, listening to the cheers from the soccer game down the street, I ask myself, what will I miss most? And to be honest, it's all the little things. It’s the nights spent sitting in plazas drinking sangria and listening to street performers play or surrounding conversations in Spanish, it’s the crazy thunderstorms where the lighting illuminates the apartment and the smell of rain that somehow soothes my soul, it’s the days spent wandering down new streets with old friends, finding the beauty in every multicolored building, it’s the nights spent crying laughing with my roommates, and it’s Spain and all that world means to me that I will miss the most. It really is the little things.
I have experienced some crazy things that I hope to never forget and I’ve gained an appreciation for so much more. I recently had some friends from home come visit. The things that they would question, I realized I had grown so used to them I completely forget they weren't the norm back home. For starters, the smell of raw fish is still not pleasant but it somehow doesn’t bother me anymore and I don’t mean the smell from one fish, I mean an overwhelming, eyewatering raw fish smell. This lack in caring about the smell is most likely due to the fact that they always place the fruit and vegetables by the raw fish in our mercados. This seems completely illogical to me but who am I to say whats right from wrong when it comes to stocking grocery stores. In line with this is my super exciting news, my roommates and I’s favorite grocery store finally reopened after being closed for the past month which was extremely devastating. It’s the little things.
Another slightly annoying but healthy thing I’ve grown accustomed to is getting lost, running late, or plans falling through. Nothing is ever concrete. From getting on the wrong train after four months of taking the same one, to learning out your metro line decided to stop running, to hauling 50-pound suitcases up and down the never-ending metro stairs, and to finding out that many many many things are out of your control. My perfectionist temperament has been tested time in and time out but I love the freedom of being genuinely okay with whatever happens. I promise you this did not happen overnight. It was about trip three that taught me I cannot plan for everything and even if I try to, a hundred things will find a way to go wrong. From being scammed to losing valuable time in a day, I’ve learned to not stress over the big or little things because I have a higher power who orchestrates all that goes on in my life and I’ve started laughing. Laughing when the train doesn’t arrive on time, when classmates seem overwhelmingly annoying, when they randomly do passport checks with us, when a place swore it was free online but in person claims it costs money, when people never, I mean never, stop staring, and when there are so many people on the metro that its almost impossible to breathe. All these daily annoyances and struggles I will truly miss because it’s the little things.
BUT above all, I will miss my roommates. They saved me in more ways than one. They provided me with the strength to keep going. They are the reason why I can leave Spain with a smile on my face, knowing I saw and did it all. Almost all my crazy memories are with them and some sweet ones too. Chelsey pushed me to keep studying when I thought I would quit at hour 8 and Mona made me cry laughing when I thought it was impossible to even smile. Their endless love and support reminded me, in my loneliest hours, that I had them and others at home still cheering me on. I think many people believe that study abroad is just one long vacation. That could not be farther from the truth. It’s stressful, lonely, difficult, and amazing all at the same time. It’s almost impossible to explain the way it feels to live abroad for a long period of time to someone who has never experienced it. It took about 2 weeks for the vacation mindset to wear off and for me to realize this was real life adulting in a place where they spoke a different language and lived life by different customs. Going through the daily craziness, loneliness, and exhaustion with my two roommates gave me mutual and sincere support. A support that knew just how difficult it was to not just lay in bed all day wishing Spain away. We got each other out of bed and made the tiring trek either to school, the park, or the city and reminded each other of all Madrid has to offer. I can’t wait to incorporate them into my life back at Mason. They are the sweetest girls and I cannot thank God enough for blessing me with them. You know they are special when they still say awe after every photo I show them of my niece and nephew. They make the little things that much more meaningful. Somehow we survived together and I couldn’t be more proud of us.
Here’s to the next four days. May I pass my last exam, pack and survive this flight home. Thank you Mom and Dad. Thank you Mona and Chelsey. Thank you to everyone who visited from home. And Thanks you God this only lasted a semester ;) He knew I need my family, friends, and the beach too much to stay any longer.
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I’m sad.
Pretty sure it’s a combo of me being on my period, getting seasonal affective depression and my preexisting depression as a side effect of ADHD burnout, guilt, shame etc.
But yeaaah I’ve truly been hella in my feelings this week. Today it hits hard bc weekends are usually really hard for me anyways. I always have a hard time taking care of myself.
Idk what it is about weekends that make me so helpless and careless. Maybe it’s because I don’t have to go anywhere, I have no desire to do anything but rest and recover.
That includes not caring about hygiene either, unfortunately. I haven’t showered since Thursday night since I skipped last night. Haven’t brushed my teeth since 6am.
And that was only because I woke up out of my sleep from being so hot and forgetting I didn’t brush my teeth before I fell asleep last night. So I did that and went straight to sleep.
Idk today been pretty much a bust bc I haven’t done anything productive. Only ate one ~real~ meal today so I’m starving, but dinner is ready so I think I’ll go eat soon.
I’m just very moody and would rather not be around anyone rn but my mom keeps bothering me by coming into my room and asking if “I’m feeling it” it meaning depressed.
Can’t you tell miss? It’s like no, I guess she’s never been able to tell. That’s the problem. Bc I don’t communicate but she also can’t just read my emotions if I don’t tell her anything.
I’m not sure why I expect people to be able to help me when I don’t express that I’m feeling like crap when I’m feeling like crap. I would think from my actions it’s pretty obvious.
But I guess after 23 of acting like I have mood swings, they’ve never been able to tell. So why do I assume just bc I had my breakdown way back in May and explained it, they can now?
My mood is very genuinely: disappointed but not surprised. It’s like I always knew even if I opened up, they’d never support me or be able to help me in the ways I need.
But I also am not doing anything to help myself when I don’t open up to them. I guess it’s my fault. But also I feel like they never learned anything from what I told them.
This is why I explained to my mom that there’s only a little sense of relief because they still don’t understand me or try to understand me. I still am being neglected like before.
So it’s almost like nothing changed except me just deciding to be happier and have a positive attitude about things. And that can only take me so far if no one else is helping.
It just still feels like I’m alone and no one is there to fully understand or support me bc they don’t get it. They don’t know what’s in my head, which is the loneliest feeling.
They’ll never understand my struggle of feeling like you will never get past the point of not being able to function by myself. I just feel like I’m so behind. I won’t get anywhere.
Do you know how much it hurts to not be able to do basic tasks everyday because of the way your brain is wired? It’s literally the most tiring, draining, upsetting and frustrating thing ever.
And then feeling like if you explained it to your family, they would just try to give you tips to counteract it or tell you, it’s something you can get past with only God.
My mom when I told her I for sure have ADHD almost dismissed it. It’s like she acknowledged it for 0.2 seconds bc she saw I broke down and it made me upset, then moved past it.
She moved right on because she thinks God can just take it away like it hasn’t been a part of my life for 23 years. And I tried to explain to her yes I believe He can, but is He meant to?
Like bc He made me this way. I don’t believe He made a mistake. But she’s making it seem like it’s a problem that needs to be fixed by Him. And I’m trying to explain what if that wasn’t His intention?
She’s so stuck on the fact that she wants me to get past it and be done with it. And I don’t think that’s something that can just be fixed and done.
I know God heals and God restores. But that’s not the kind of support I need rn. I need you to acknowledge this is something that I’ve struggled with MY WHOLE LIFE.
Has set me back so many times for so many different things without me even knowing I had it. I’m sorry if I’m having a hard time getting over it, but it’s affected me in so many ways.
I can’t just get over it that easily! I’m offended that she thinks I can. Bc everyday I realize more and more how it has and does affect me and how very real it has always been.
And she likes to just think it’s going to ~go away~ suddenly. She isn’t supportive of me taking meds either so it’s like... what is the solution bc it doesn’t get cured just treated.
She skipped a step by trying to ask how can we ~fix~ this as if it’s something that has a cure. First of all if you’ve done any research, you’ll realize it’s not something that can be cured.
So then she’s asking ME what I want to do about it to help myself and I’m like IDK if I did, I don’t think we’d be in this mess, now would we? Like you already declined the meds suggestion.
Like it’s the emotional unavailability for me. You tell me to open up but when you do, it’s always you suggesting solutions or saying you struggled with this too or dismissing me.
Sometimes I just need you to listen, be there and hear what I’m SAYING. This is what I’m STRUGGLING with. There doesn’t always have to be a solution. Just be my mom.
Not my therapist, counsellor or psychiatrist. Yes, IK you’re trying to be practical. But practical isn’t getting us anywhere. And I’m just tired. I’m so fricking tired of it all.
I’m just so tired.
Life is so hard. And it’s even harder knowing that many of my problems are just mental and since people can’t see that, they’d probably think I’m over exaggerating my struggles.
Like nobody takes your struggles seriously when they’re mental bc you can’t measure them and there’s no way of knowing what the person is really going through.
EVERYDAY doing minimal tasks is the most brutal, dreadful thing. Just to WAKE UP and do tasks and homework is so hard for me. And no one will get that...
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Messages from your Angels & Guides~July 17-24, 2017
Morning all! How was your weekend? I saw the new Planet of the Apes movie on Friday. Loved it! Even if it was a rainy day lol I like going to the movies on rainy days. In fact, I like rain period.. It's very soothing to my soul. What are the things that are soothing to your soul?
This week your guides would like to speak on your chakras. We all could use a chakra tune up every so often. The focus for this week is your Red, Yellow, and Orange chakras. So let's dive in and see what they have to say......
Monday-Wednesday~Discovery/Pink from Pinkton
"I am more than I think I am"
In the past, you may not have been prepared to face facts. Being willing to take the journey regardless of the outcome will prove rewarding. Get ready to carry a commitment through to completion.
Totem Tuesday~Marlin
A marlin is a fish comes from the family of Istiophoridaes. It has a long body with a snout that resembles a spear and a long sturdy dorsal fin.
They are agile swimmers that reach the speed of approximately 110kph. So what if this shows as your animal totem? The marlin is associated with emotions. The marlin is also associated with people who may seem ungrateful. This could be family or friends. Whether you are in a relationship with others or feeling down, the marlin's powerful fish tale indicates you can overcome any obstacles. The totem can help when faced with troubles in life and problems that may emerge. Be mindful that this animal totem can suggest that others will truly believe in your ideas. The world is a better place when one has this totem animal as a guide. The fish is also connected to emotions and love. It can suggest that you are fearful of change and that ignoring this can ultimately hurt chances of passion in the future. Whether others are looking for help or yourself in matters of love, this animal totem has it all. It is a great totem to be assigned by spirit.
The Marlin fish family also includes the Atlantic Blue marlin that can grow up to 5 m in length and weighs at around 818 kg. Marlins can be seen on a rare occasion on the house table, mostly only in fine dining restaurants. Sport fisherman who catch a marlin often releases them after removing from the hook. To catch this fish in a fishing exhibition indicates all the spiritual connections above, this can suggest that love and passion will be yours!
Ernest Hemmingway, a Nobel prize winner, wrote the novel The Old Man and the Sea, the story is about an old fisherman and the marlin. The story revolves around the struggle of the old man and the creature.
To have or be assigned the Marlin suggests that you are a loner - they love being alone not because they fear the company of others but because they are a lot more comfortable in their own company. They feel confident that they can do everything on their own and only weak people need the help of others. Marlins are proud and sometimes this can result in a bad decision due to their being stubborn. They won’t ask for help, they won’t thank you either if you lend a help. But do not worry cause they appreciate everything you do, they simply do not show it.
Let's now look at how the Marlin operates - he is sensitive with his surroundings which enables him to move in a precise way on full speed. Before someone makes a decision, they are observing their surroundings and using this to their advantage. Recent events can help plans succeed - they just need a perfect timing to implement great ideas. Be aware of the things that happen in your environment and see how it can benefit you.
The Marlin also shows that love is an important part of life - as the fish is associated with water and emotions. The power of words cannot be underestimated; history proves that a simple conversation can end a war. The wrong words can destroy a relationship, and a simple word can cure the loneliest heart. When you want to learn the art of speech call on Marlin and he will provide you with the wisdom to say what is necessary. If you want people to listen to you or if you want people to take your side, the Marlin is a good totem spirit.
The Marlin also a great balance between night and day. Their balance does not mean a harmony with nature; their balance is about the good and the bad. There are downsides in being either good or bad and that this totem represents new love interests; One has to seek steadiness between the two attributes and he will gain respect from his surroundings.
Marlin shows as an animal spirit when...
When you need to be alone or find love.
We are losing confidence.
You need to notice your surroundings in order to create an accurate plan.
One needs to use the art of speech in order to resolve a conflict.
One is seeking to find a balance.
Call on Marlin as an animal spirit when...
When you need to concentrate.
When we want to uplift our self-esteem.
We need to weigh on things before performing our plans.
One wants to learn how to use words properly.
We want to be in a state of nirvana.
Wednesday-Friday~Enlightenment/ Topaz
"If I seek peace, I must embrace my fears"
The opportunity to make an enlightened decision is inherent in topaz. A journey of true destiny is the vibrational energy here. Regal gold and earthy brown mix to create something spectacular-your experience will guide others.
Just For Fun~Chakra Healing Meditation
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Friday/Weekend~Completion/Final Sunset
"A life comes to a spectacular close"
Here is a warm and cheerful energy that brings calm to an ending, making it poignant, not sad. Something is taking place outside your comfort zone, so step into the emotional grace of completion. There is no drama here, only resolution.
This week's messages come to you courtesy of Chakra Wisdom Oracle
I do hope that this week’s messages resonated with you. If it hasn’t upon first glance, then feel free to re-read them. There may be a deeper or hidden message specifically for you from your angels and/or guides. Let me know…I would love to hear from you. Also, please share, reblog, and like. This way you will be paying it forward for others to receive this guidance. Follow Angels & Celestials on Instagram And on Facebook at
https://www.facebook.com/AngelsandCelestials111/
For a personalized reading, I can be reached at
#Chakras#Chakra Clearing#Meditation#Fun & Games#Totem Tuesdays#Oracles#Guides#Facebook#Instagram#Angels
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Samsara [Part Six]
General Disclaimer
AN: Edits will happen when they happen. I'm having an iffy week this week, and my beta has adulty things to do so I don't want to bug her. Patience please!
True to her word, Shachi spends the coming weeks visiting with her father-in-law. The first few days it is because Kanna is still ill. When Shachi asks to see her, Asura lightly shrugs it off.
“It’s simply the weather. This time of year puts her in a sad humour,” he tells her, but from the way his eyes shift, Shachi suspects he isn’t being completely honest. “Besides, you should not exert yourself in your condition.”
Right, because pregnancy means we’ve suddenly become incapable of doing anything…
“I’m with child, not carrying the plague,” Shachi mutters as she walks away, and Sakura can’t help feeling a little pleased that somewhere within the quiet, respectful woman there’s some indication of spunk.
Asura was right when he said how dull it is around the estate in the winter. Shachi can only watch his disciples train so often before she grows bored. Some of them even talk to her now, but she thinks most are still afraid. Taizo makes a beeline in the opposite direction whenever he sees her, which is only right.
Asura is more merciful than his brother; Indra would have had the man flayed alive. On her loneliest, most unsatisfying days she can’t decide whose method of justice she prefers.
It’s how she finds herself sitting across from Lord Hagoromo, sipping tea and listening to him talk about everything and nothing. He ruminates on the weather and his students, of Asura’s work with them, and explains the concept of ninshu. Sometimes he recites old poems. Every now and then he will pause, look at her as if he wants to ask her something, and then simply continue talking.
In an effort to distract her from her homesickness, he begins to tell her a story. Before she realises it, she finds herself enraptured in the same tale that Indra once told her, but much more detailed. Her husband is a man of concise words and has little use for flowery imagery; Lord Hagoromo is a wordsmith.
Before she is aware of it, she is drawn into the chronicle, an eager listener
Because neither she nor the old man can sit for long periods of time, he doesn’t tell it to her in all one sitting. He draws out the tale across the weeks, and she returns to see him every day, even long after Kanna is well again. Occasionally her sister-in-law joins them, other times Asura does as well; sometimes it is just Ashura and Hagoromo.
She begins to suspect about her sister-in-law’s mystery ailment; she has seen that expression too often on the wives of Indra’s disciples. Especially those who have miscarried or given birth to stillborn babies. She has never been so unlucky, but she can sympathise. And understanding the pain Kanna has undergone somehow makes her seem more relatable.
The longer she is with them, in fact, Shachi learns that her in-laws are not horrible people. She had always suspected that Indra exaggerated his tale some, but it’s difficult to reconcile the two different views.
Perhaps they sense her wavering in her sensibilities, because as the days become longer, her in-laws’ conversations turn to Indra. Together, Asura and Hagoromo tell her of the circumstances leading to his departure, and also mention their hopes that reconciliation can be found in the future.
“Unfortunately, the situation is a complex one. There’s no right way to go about fixing it,” Asura sighs.
“You might start by considering it from your brother’s point of view, instead of treating him like the only unreasonable party,” Shachi suggests, ever loyal.
Asura stares at her. “He attacked us.”
“He was upset,” she replies. “Understandably so.”
“Unders –” Asura cuts himself off. “No amount of emotion should lead a man to summon a beast made of chakra and try to ravage our home. His home.”
Shachi sighs.
“My lord brother, you do not have children,” she remarks softly, conscious of the flicker of pain across his features; it’s a fact she has noticed in her time here, not least of all in the time puzzling at Kanna’s supposed illness. “And you did not know the care of a mother.”
Her father-in-law confirms this quietly. “A regrettable truth. My wife was taken by sickness too soon after Asura’s birth.”
“My lord father – forgive me for being indelicate…”
“I am too old to care much for delicacy, child.”
“From the stories you and your son have told me, your esteemed mother was not overly concerned with your well-being as she was for her pursuit of power,” she points out, somewhat hesitant.
“That is so.”
“None of you three benefitted much from a woman’s influence – whether it be a wife or a mother,” she concludes sadly. “It is a burden that I, too, had to bear, though I believe I was perhaps luckier in a way. My mother’s former servants raised me. They showed kindness to me when no others would, cared for me when I was sick and fed me when I was hungry. Perhaps they did it to fulfill their obligations to my father, but perhaps they were simply good people. In any case, their treatment of me gave me some idea of what a child needs. Having my own children has taught me the same. And I wonder, if their mother had lived, whether the situation with your sons would have ended differently.”
“I fear it would not have made a difference.”
“Are you so sure?” she challenges. “Would she not have questioned your decisions in choosing your younger son as your successor? Or, if she did not, would she perhaps have cautioned you to handle it more delicately than you did?”
“Sister –” Asura warns, a little perturbed at the idea of someone chiding his father.
“No, let her continue,” the old sage interrupts, frowning.
“I do not claim to know the wishes of your esteemed lady wife,” Shachi says, “but as a mother myself, I know that I would have suggested to the father of my children if there were a similar situation. Whether he listened or not. And being forthright would have solved more ills than it wouldn’t.”
Asura is utterly tense, looking between her and his father as if expecting an outburst of some kind. Shachi pauses, and when her father-in-law continues to listen, she goes on.
“Instead of telling Indra your decision right away when he returned from his journey – a decision you had already likely made in your heart long before you even asked them to go on that journey – you allowed him to wait almost two years,” she points out, trying to keep her tone calm and non-accusatory. “In your fear that telling him news that would anger and hurt him, you allowed him to build up his expectations. To believe he had fulfilled the task you set before him adequately, when in fact he had failed. And instead of telling him so – instead of informing him of the hardships that fell on the village he had visited and having him return to correct his mistake – you let him idle here, and you allowed that village to fall to ruin.”
“The village had already fallen to ruin by the time he returned,” the old man says stiffly.
“Which you also knew, from your toad friend, and perhaps could have done something about with your far-reaching abilities,” she says placidly. “In any case, it is something that should not have been kept from Indra. Whether he learned to lesson you wanted him to or not, he is not one to back down from completing a task. He may have found a way to prove himself once more if given the chance.”
The old man looks thoughtful at this, but she continues.
“Then, when you did tell him that he had lost his status as your successor, you did so in front of all of your disciples. Not after years worth of reflection, but within an hour of my lord Asura returning home,” she continues. “Can you perhaps understand how hurt Indra would have been in that moment?”
“At some point a man must learn to make the correct decisions on his own.”
“And yet is your child not still your child even when have become grey with age?” she counters. “Are the failings of a student truly his failings? Or is it the teacher that has neglected to impart the lesson in the best manner? I won’t argue that some responsibility lies on the child to learn and grow…but if he is not given a torch to find the way, will he not wander in darkness?”
Lord Hagoromo’s expression has softened now, and he is watching her in the same way she has sometimes seen Indra look at her – as if he has no idea what to make of her.
“You know that my husband is someone who does not understand the immaterial – comradery, trust…love,” Shachi explains quietly. “He only knows the force of his hands and the power of his will. These are concrete to him. He does not…he is unable to recognise these things in the same way a bat is blind to the world around it. And yet, nature has still given the bat the ability to fly.”
Both men are staring at her in surprise now, as if they didn’t expect her to be capable of such argument. She is somewhat offended by this.
Yeah, you should be! What, did they think we just sat beside Indra looking pretty for the past couple of years?
“And my lord brother,” Shachi goes on, turning to Asura. “You never wanted the succeed your father. Your entire life, you expected Indra to inherit his ways and you supported him. Even if you are better suited to the task, the ease with which you accepted it is what causes your brother to believe you betrayed him.”
“But I didn’t –”
“If you had truly honoured your brother’s wishes, you would have fought for him,” she tells him firmly. “Perhaps you would have tried to teach him the lessons you had learned, so that he might become a better person as well as a better leader. Or perhaps my lord father could have, instead of naming only one successor, left his craft to both. Two halves of a whole, dependant on each other and needing to work together for success.” She cocks her head to one side and considers the wizened old man before her. “Which is the lesson you wanted them both to learn from the beginning, is it not?”
Lord Hagoromo stares at her for a full minute, and she suddenly shrinks.
“Forgive me,” she says. “I may have overstepped –”
But the old sage chuckles, to both hers and Asura’s surprise.
“For one whose eyes are not as sharp as ours, you see much, daughter,” he tells her, his mouth quirking upwards. “I hope that perception serves you well when you need it most.” His tone becomes serious once more. “And I hope it does not blind you to the truth of matters.”
“My husband is not perfect,” Shachi responds, aware of what he is referring to. “Nor is he blameless. He has made many mistakes – like you, perhaps he sees himself entirely as the victim of circumstance. If you truly want to reconcile with him, all three of you must acknowledge past insults but agree to move on in peace.”
“Would you help us do that?” Asura asks.
“…me?”
“You have seen the part of him that only Father and I know or remember. And you’re his wife. He will listen to you.”
Shachi frowns at this.
“I did not mean that as it sounded,” Asura quickly says. “That is to say – this was not a plan, an attempt to sway you to our way of thinking. But now that you have heard both sides of the story, perhaps you can be the voice of reason if we were to all meet again.”
She hesitates, torn.
“I will not go behind my husband’s back in any way,” she says finally, willing her voice to keep from trembling. “I will not return to him as your instrument, speaking words to change his mind to your way of thinking. I have never done so before, and I will not so now. But I will raise the issue once. If he is favorable, I will try, but if he is not – I will not pursue the matter. It has taken many years for him to place any trust in me – I would sooner die than break that.”
Asura appears resigned, Hagoromo thoughtful. She isn’t sure she likes the way he is looking at her, as if he knows something that she doesn’t.
“That is all that we can ask,” the old sage says, sighing heavily and sitting back. “All that remains now is to find Indra.”
夢
“Do you think your family would have liked me?”
Sasuke doesn’t stop stirring the antibiotic paste they are making, but his movements become a little jerkier.
“We’ve had this conversation before.”
“I know, but I need to hear it again,” she prompts, and then pats her stomach. “He needs to hear it. You know that babies can hear sound in the womb by eighteen weeks, right? He needs to hear your voice, and face it darling, you aren’t exactly talkative.”
They’ve been calling the baby he since Sasuke mentioned the tendency of main family Uchiha to be male.
After a beat, Sasuke shrugs and says, “I don’t see the point of revisiting questions that can never be answered.”
“I…I guess you’re right,” she sighs in defeat; she has learned the importance in not pushing certain matters too hard. “It was just something on my mind, but that doesn’t mean you want to talk about it. Sorry for bringing it up.”
She doesn’t want to mention that ever since her dreams have started to centre on Indra’s family, Shachi’s interactions with her in-laws have made her curious about what her own might have been. It’s a completely different situation, of course – she can’t think of any reality where Sasuke’s parents would have kidnapped her – but she suspects there would have been some similar sense of alienation.
She tries to focus on what her husband is doing across the room; the local apothecary was kind enough to lend them his back room to work on a treatment for the area’s pneumonia outbreak. Sasuke is carefully measuring and sorting through ingredients with a frown of concentration; it’s understandable, considering some of them are toxic in large quantities.
Ever since she became pregnant, they try to avoid her working with anything too poisonous; some materials can be absorbed through the skin into the bloodstream, and neither she nor Sasuke want to take any risks when it comes to the baby. As such, her husband has become her unofficial assistant-slash-apprentice, learning how to put together passable antidotes and remedies under her watchful eye.
He’s also learning that a lot more goes into it than just memorizing precise ingredients and solutions. Even having a Sharingan to help him doesn’t help him here, and for once Sakura is the genius having to patiently explain the process to him.
“Be careful, you’re adding too much sumac.”
“I’m adding exactly what you told me to add.”
“For a general dose – you’re making an antidote, not a paralytic.”
He shoots her an annoyed look, but remeasures the amounts. She beams at him in approval.
“My mother would have liked you immediately,” Sasuke tells her as he carefully grinds the thick brown root down to powder. “She was a warm person, and she never said an unkind word to anyone.”
Sakura blinks, surprised that he has chosen to answer her after all. Her cheeks warm with pleasure, and she smiles to herself.
“Sounds like Hinata,” she muses softly.
“No. My mother had more mettle to her. And she could have a temper,” Sasuke remembers. “There was no point to disagreeing with her. Perhaps it’s why I don’t remember my parents ever arguing.”
“So your father just agreed with everything she said?”
“When it came to raising my brother and I, I have no doubt.”
“But otherwise he was the boss.”
“He was the head of the clan. He had responsibilities.”
“Right.”
“It…would have taken some time for him to warm up to you,” Sasuke says after a pause.
Sakura doesn’t allow herself to be upset by this. “He would have wanted you to marry another Uchiha.”
“Yes. At first.”
“But think I’d win him over in the end, then?”
“He would soon see how much you have to offer. No woman in my clan has ever achieved what you have.”
Sakura blushes. It isn’t often that Sasuke is complimentary, but when he is, he delivers his words with the utter conviction that what he is saying is true. It’s better than any remark about her looks could be.
“And Itachi already liked you.”
“Eh?” she squeaks. “But I…I only met him once! And he tried to kill me, and Naruto and –”
“He knew that you and Naruto were trying to save me,” Sasuke tells her quietly. “That alone endeared you to him.” He raises an eyebrow at her, a grim smile tugging at his mouth. “You may have noticed that my family can be single-minded in our pursuits.”
“You think?” she replies dryly.
“Anything or anyone who supports those same pursuits is someone to be valued. Anyone who would face certain death to protect a mutually precious person…he would have respected that.”
Sakura considers that, unsure what to say; it’s not exactly a healthy way of looking at relationships, but it makes a bit of sense. In a mercenary kind of way…
“If anything else, he would have appreciated your chocolate making skills,” Sasuke goes on, an ironic note in his voice that tells her he is teasing. She wasted years learning that particular skill for the benefit of someone who couldn’t care less. “He had a sweet-tooth, though he tried to hide it.”
“That’s…” Sakura blinks, and then giggles. “I never would have considered that.”
Somehow the knowledge that the legendary Itachi Uchiha had such a commonplace weakness like sugar makes her feel marginally more comfortable with the idea of him.
“Thank you for telling me this,” she says quietly. “I get that you don’t like to...you know.”
“It’s…easier than it was,” Sasuke tells her, shifting uncomfortably. “And it’s practice.”
“Practice?”
“He will no doubt have questions,” Sasuke says, nodding to her middle. “I suppose I need to become used to answering them.”
“Yeah, staring broodily off into the distance and hoping he stops asking isn’t really going to cut it with our child,” Sakura agrees
“Not if he’s half as tenacious as you.”
“Or if he spends a lot of time with Naruto.”
Sasuke scowls. “Let Naruto corrupt his own children.”
Sakura burst out laughing at this, causing him to return to his grinding with the aggrieved air of someone who has been unfairly insulted. They both know he isn’t truly angry; Naruto is the closest thing he has to family, and he will likely expect (or even demand) the loudmouth’s presence in their child’s life.
Her mirth dissipates as her thoughts return to another family, long ago.
She exhales in resignation.
“Indra’s family liked Shachi,” she tells him quietly. “They might not have known what to do about her when they first met, but afterwards…I think even though Asura promised to bring her back to Indra, he doesn’t want to.”
“He knows how dangerous Indra can be. He wants to protect her,” Sasuke concludes, tone carefully level and trying to pretend like he is utterly absorbed in his task.
“Yes, I think so. And I think she senses it too, even if she’s trying not to think too hard about it. She never had a family before, and it’s tempting.” Sakura shivers, folding her arms in front of her. “I never knew what it was to grow up alone, but when I’m her…I sort of get it. What you and Naruto experienced. After being alone, it’s natural for her to want that.”
“You sound as if you think she should stay.”
Sakura can’t help the guilty face she makes. “Is that wrong of me? I know she loves Indra – and he might even love her back – but their relationship isn’t healthy. It’s worse than ours was before…before the end of the war.”
“It’s not wrong of you,” Sasuke says slowly. “But I think you know as well a I do that she won’t come to that conclusion.”
“No,” Sakura sighs, clenching her fists; when she looks up at him, her eyes have filled with tears. “Oh, Sasuke, why do I think that her story isn’t going to have a happy ending?”
He doesn’t answer her, but she knows it’s not because he can’t.
眠り
For the rest of the winter, Asura is absent from the household. Shachi learns from Kanna that he has renewed his efforts to track his brother down.
“He is more determined than he was all these past years,” her sister-in-law confides one evening. “Before you arrived, he sought Indra as a means of confronting his own guilt. Now, he has a hope for reconciliation. You are the reason he searches so ardently.”
Shachi shifts, uncomfortable over the praise. “I don’t believe I’m the only reason.”
“You are an important one, though,” Kanna says. “You are his family. He will do anything for family.”
The woman is unable to completely keep the concern from her voice though, and Shachi can sympathise. They both know what Indra might do to Asura if the wrong impulse should take him.
Shachi chooses to change the subject.
“I have noticed that you and my lord brother do not have children,” she mentions, tentative. “And yet…you both appear to be in fine health.”
Kanna’s cheeks turn red at this. “It…it is nothing. A childhood ailment, most likely. It makes it hard to carry a child. If the gods mean for me to…” She shakes her head. “We do not want for children. Not with those who look to Asura as their father.”
But the evasion rings hollow.
“Have you spoken to my lord father?” Shachi asks. “With his power…”
Kanna shifts uncomfortably.
“As he grows older, his abilities begin to ebb as well. He has not been able to heal for many years now. It is why he could do very little for you while you were ill.”
“And none of your healers have found the cause?”
“Our healers busy themselves with treating those who have been injured in combat, or besieged by plague,” Kanna says, a little stiffly. “The…the trials of a woman are not of interest to them, and I would not wish to distract them from good works for my own ends.”
Shachi makes a face.
“You are most unselfish, even if such reluctance is a waste,” Shachi remarks. She steps forward, and reaches for her sister. “May I?”
Kanna hesitates, but then nods. Shachi places her hand above Kanna’s womb and focusses.
She can sense something, but it doesn’t make itself apparent right away. But Shachi has not birthed six children of her own, or helped ease the pregnancies of the women in her husband’s sect for nothing. She adjusts her chakra, reaches out with her senses and concentrates on the places most healers (especially men) would not think to look.
“I see. There is scarring here,” she says, frowning with closed eyes. She concentrates, sending a burst of healing energy flicking out through her fingers. Kanna startles at the sensation. “Please keep still.”
Several minutes pass in complete silence before Shachi straightens up.
“I have removed the scar tissue,” she announces. “You will bleed soon, and afterward there should be no more difficulty in conceiving.” She smiles softly. “I have no doubt you will be a good mother.”
Kanna stares at her in shock, and as Shachi’s words set in, tears form in her eyes.
“My lord Indra does not understand how fortunate he is to have you as a wife,” she tells her quietly. “If you can still be so kind despite being married to him…”
Her sister-in-law doesn’t mean to give insult, and Shachi chooses to ignore it. It’s a skill she has developed in her months here.
Still, she can’t help a minor note of exasperation, directed not at Kanna, but at her husband.
If he understood how fortunate he was, he would be trying to find me.
夢
It’s become an accepted morning ritual, helping Sasuke get dressed.
They both know that he can do this by himself – he managed a lifetime without her, both before and after he lost his arm – but for some reason he indulges Sakura’s coddling tendencies. Maybe because he is so independent that there aren’t many thing she can help him with, maybe because he has learned to like having someone take care of him.
She privately thinks it might be the latter.
When they stay at guesthouses, as they’ve been doing almost every night lately (with the onset of winter she’s surprised that Sasuke hasn’t insisted they hole up in a cabin somewhere until the snow melts) they can take their time about it, enjoying the simple peace of the moment.
This morning, though, Sakura is distracted; her thoughts are firmly in the past, reflecting on her former self’s recent experiences. The idea that Asura’s wife might never have had children – that only Indra might have had descendants if she – if Shachi – hadn’t interfered makes her very aware of the precariousness of the future.
She fumbles with his shirt sleeves and drops his fingerless gloves several times before finally slipping them onto his hands. He frowns, clearly impatient, but instead of making a contempt filled comment as he might have when they were children, he instead asks, “What’s wrong?”
“What if I couldn’t have children?” she blurts out instead of an answer.
Sasuke’s blinks, the smallest downward turn of his lips the only indication he has heard the question. He doesn’t answer, instead waiting for her to provide context or more detail. As if what she’s asking him is incredibly complex or nonsensical.
“Would you still have married me if I couldn’t have children?” she asks, quieter this time. She hates that she sounds so insecure, but Shachi’s anxieties have been seeping into her waking moments more often lately. Combined with pregnancy hormones, Sakura doesn’t know how she isn’t a mess of tears every day.
Sasuke is frowning now, calculation happening behind those fathomless eyes. “It was never a reason to marry you to begin with.”
“But it was a reason!” she insists. “You’ve wanted a family since we were kids, and if it turned out that I couldn’t…”
“Wanting something and deserving it are two different things,” Sasuke dismisses.
“But –”
“I would have been satisfied either way,” Sasuke cuts her off. “If circumstance decreed I wasn’t meant to have children, I would have accepted that.”
“Even though you wanted them.”
Irritation is clear on his features. “Is there a reason you’re asking repetitive questions?”
“I just…” she gestures with the hand that isn’t still wrapped around his. “Sometimes I’m not sure if this is real.”
“Because of your dreams?” he questions, irritation giving way to speculation.
“No. No, even before the dream I wondered. Sometimes, I thought – sometimes I still think – I’m going to open my eyes and be staring at the ceiling in my bedroom. I’m fifteen years old and all of this has just been a dream. Or worse –” Sakura shivers here, “ – maybe I was trapped in the Infinite Tsukuyomi after all. Maybe all of this is just a fantasy my brain cooked up.”
“You fantasized about living a vagabond existence with a former international criminal?” he asks dryly.
“Not necessarily,” she replies, rolling her eyes at his subtle teasing. “But I wanted to be with you, and now I am, and – especially with all these dreams messing with my head – I just worry it’s not real.”
“Wouldn’t it be more likely to not be real if events proceeded exactly how you imagined them?”
“You mean, like, if I was still at home, playing the happy housewife and running the clinic and you were – I don’t know – running the Konoha police?” she suggests.
“Hmph.” There’s the tiniest indication of a wistful smile there. “Perhaps.”
“Actually…if I’m being honest, I can’t imagine you having a regular nine-to-five job anymore,” she confesses. “I guess that would sort of be a tip-off that something was wrong.”
“Childhood dreams do change,” he agrees.
“Some don’t.”
Their eyes meet and hold for several heartbeats, silently exchanging a sentiment that needs no words.
Sasuke reaches forward, slowly, eyes softened in just that way; his index and middle finger tap her forehead and she blushes.
“Some are annoyingly persistent,” he agrees, beginning to pull away, but she snatches his wrist, not allowing him to move back just yet. He acquiesces, allowing his fingers to instead slide across her cheekbone, then slowly cup the side of her face. She smiles, shifting her hold on him to keep his hand pressed there, leaning into the warmth and the smell of leather.
“I’ll need that back, eventually. It is the only one I have.”
“Only because you’re so stubborn,” she retorts, guiding his fingers to her lips and pressing a brief kiss to the tips before letting them go.
She returns to the task of helping him dress.
“There are other ways to have children,” he says after allowing this to continue; she pauses. “Other ways to have a family. We would find a new path.”
Her eyes widen. “But…but then your family…it would end with you. And the Sharingan would die out.”
“Some might argue that’s for the best.”
Seeing his utter nonchalance at that idea, her eyes widen with realisation.
“Do you think it will happen?” she asks. “I don’t have a Sharingan – you’re hoping he takes after me, aren’t you?”
“If he does he will be saved a lot of trouble.”
“But if he has it…if we had more than one child one day…would we…would he…?”
“It would be a topic that would need to be addressed,” Sasuke allows. “A conversation would have to be had.”
Sakura bites her lip.
“Should we…should we only have one? Maybe we should only have one. That way he can’t be tricked into…or in case there’s an accident, he won’t have to –”
“Kill me or his siblings and take their eyes?”
Sakura winces. It sounds even worse once it’s been said out loud than it did in her head. She tries to offer in a repentant look, but he shakes his head at her; he is not angry or insulted by her obvious train of thought.
“If we only ever have the one, who’s to say he won’t have many children when he grows up? It would be counterintuitive to base all of our decisions on an event which may or may not happen,” he tells her. “If I truly thought it was an issue, I would never have had children. I know as well as you do that there are ways to prevent such a thing, permanently.”
“Did you ever consider it?”
“Sometimes. But not with any great deal of sincerity,” Sasuke admits, unapologetic. “I did tell you that I’m a selfish man.”
“Shut up, no you’re not,” she insists, abandoning his shirt sleeves in favour of wrapping her arms around his middle, pressing her face into his chest. Mostly it’s to hide the sudden onslaught of tears.
Sasuke’s arm wraps around her, and she feels his chin on the crown of her head.
“I won’t hide the truth from our child,” he tells her quietly. “When the time comes, I’ll explain the power and the price of the Sharingan. Even if he doesn’t have it.”
“Children,” Sakura corrects with a sniff. “I do want more than one. So he won’t be lonely. So you won’t be lonely.”
She hears a short, rumbling sound in his chest, close to laughter. “Let’s have this one first.”
眠り
The snow finally begins to melt, and the cherry blossoms begin to bloom. In her seventh month of pregnancy, Asura finally returns with good news.
“You’ve found him,” she breathes on the day he enters the courtyard where she and Kanna are walking. He looks tired and dirty from his journey. Although his first act is to embrace his wife, there is a look on his face that Shachi knows is meant for her.
“Yes.”
“And the children?”
“They are safe. All of them have relocated to one of the smaller islands. It was hard to find because of the warding – and because I had to mask my own chakra – but they are there,” Asura says, “And they show no sign of leaving.”
“Then we have to hurry!” she declares, not wanting to somehow miss the opportunity to be reunited with her husband and children.
“We will,” Asura promises. “But we have to do so carefully. If he senses my presence – especially anywhere near you – it could lead to conflict. And that is something we don’t want, especially considering your condition.”
She wants to argue, but knows her husband well; he prefers to lead with force and ask questions later. “Fine.”
It takes a week of planning and preparation before they are ready to leave. Asura gathers several of his most trusted followers, as well as the litter she had so jokingly mentioned months earlier. There’s no choice now but to use it, as she can’t walk for extended periods anymore.
At the gates as they prepare to leave, Asura bid goodbye to his wife, promising a safe return. Despite bidding each other farewell, they share secret smiles and hold each other’s hands a little longer than normal. Shachi knows that they will be welcoming a new member of the family soon enough, and leaves them to their moment.
To occupy herself, she meets one last time with her father-in-law, who has left his chambers to see her off.
“I hope when we next meet it will be under better circumstances,” he says quietly, before beginning to cough; when he wipes his mouth, it comes away bloody.
“My lord father, you are ill,” she realises, wondering how she couldn’t have noticed in the past months.
He motions for her to lower her voice, inclining his head toward Asura. “You are perceptive, daughter.”
“Can I – ?”
“There is no healing anyone could perform that can help me now, but your kindness is appreciated,” he tells her. Off her stricken look, he adds, “I have some years left. Enough that I live in hope that I shall see grandchildren. I am given to know that this might happen soon.” His mouth quirks a little, and she smiles back, as if they, too, share a secret. “However, in the event I don’t…may I?”
He indicates her stomach, growing much larger but well hidden in her voluminous white robes. She pauses only a minute, and then nods.
The old man places his hand upon her, just below her breast, and for a long time is quiet. Then, he says, “For all your faith and love for him, you have noticed that there is a darkness surrounding your husband.”
She is quiet.
“I do not know how he came by it, for it was there long before I considered naming Asura as my successor,” he continues. “I fear it will lead him to great loss and sadness. A constant black hole of despair.” She swallows, because it’s a fear she has secretly harboured for years. “But this child you carry – this child carries in it the potential to break free. The fan the flames of change in Indra, and all those of his bloodline.”
She looks up at this, eyes wide. Is he making a prophecy?
Fathomless eyes focus on her, his expression grave.
“But flames burn for destruction more often than they do regrowth. There will be much heartache before it happens if there is no stalwart hand to guide it.”
“…Father?”
“Remember this,” he tells her, squeezing her hands with unexpected affection. “Farewell, Daughter.”
And then he turns and walks back into the courtyard.
夢
“If one more old biddy puts her hand on my stomach without my permission, I won’t be responsible for my actions!” Sakura declares loudly, stomping down the snow-covered road from their latest village stopover. “Or – or! – tells me I shouldn’t be walking around in my ‘condition’!” She whirls around and glares at Sasuke, who is following several paces at a leisurely pace. “I mean, do I look physically incapable to you?”
“Hn.”
“Exactly!” she crows. “Where is it written that a pregnant woman automatically loses all of her physical capabilities! If we ran into a band of mercenaries right now, I could take them with one hand behind my back – you know I could.”
“Let’s not, though,” Sasuke suggests.
“Obviously,” she rolls her eyes. “But I could. It’s not going to hurt the baby. He’s strong – healthiest baby ever, because I’m the healthiest person I know. Because I’ve got this!” She taps at the seal in her forehead. “Diseases and physical ailments and…and stuff! I can punch out goddesses, but they think I should be sitting on my ass doing nothing – shannaro!”
Sasuke sighs.
“Are you hungry?”
She shoots him a dark look. “What kind of question is that?”
“It’s a question about whether you’re hungry or not.”
“No, it’s not. It’s you being patronizing. You think my mood is tied to my stomach and you’re trying to placate me, and I don’t appreciate it.”
There are several beats of silence, and then,
“Am I wrong?”
“…No.”
She lets him lead them off the road and unpack their rations, ignoring the amused smirk he wears the whole time.
“You think this is funny,” she accuses.
“No,” he replies. “I just find it…interesting. You usually have patience for even the most irritating individuals.”
“Well that’s because I never had to put up with stupid people while I was having hot flashes,” she snaps. “It’s winter and I’m dying here. I am actually sweating buckets right now, look! I’m drenched like I just walked out of the bath! How is that even possible?”
“Put your cloak back on,” Sasuke chides as he opens a sealing scroll for their kettle. “You’ll be cold again in a minute.”
“I am not a child!” she snaps, though she does as he suggests because he happens to be right. She kicks at the ankle high snow. “Nice to see attitudes towards pregnant women haven’t changed at all in the past thousand years… The only difference now is people think it’s okay to invade personal space.”
She looks up to see Sasuke quirk an eyebrow at her – she was never really one to respect personal space when they were younger, after all – and she rolls her eyes.
“You know what I mean,” she tells him. “Before, no one – not even an old grandma – would put their hands on my stomach without permission. Except if they had mine or my husband’s. And even if they did, they knew damn well better than to ask.”
He snorts. “You have a friendly face. It puts people at ease enough to think they can take liberties.”
She pouts.
“I don’t know which is more annoying – you making fun of me, or you threatening to dislocate people’s fingers for getting to handsy,” she mutters, rubbing at her shoulders through her cloak. Her core temperature is returning to the way it was before and now she’s freezing again.
Sasuke frowns at her in confusion. “I never threatened anyone.”
“Right, because I just imagined all of those people with broken fingers, my mistake,” she drawls. “Though, you’d think if you were that protective of me, you would have figured out where I am by now and come get me. Instead, I’m sitting here, freezing and boiling, promising everyone else that they’re going to be happy, while I’m alone. Always alone…And Kanna and Asura are so happy, and it kills me every time I have to see them like that, because I miss –”
“Sakura.”
The word is quiet, but sharp, almost like the crack of a whip.
A shiver runs up Sakura’s back, and she feels a curious sensation of having been doused in water.
When she looks up at him, she sees that all traces of amusement are gone and Sasuke is eyeing her with concern and wariness.
“What?” she asks.
“What were you just saying?” he asks her neutrally.
She blinks, casting her mind back. The past few seconds are a little muddled, but some of the ideas come back to her.
“I did it again, didn’t I?” she asks in a small voice.
He nods once, stiffly.
“I’m sorry. It’s like…she gets closer to the surface whenever I’m angry or upset – which is weird, because she was the most…well adjusted, placid person ever.”
“Don’t apologise,” Sasuke tells her, as he has been doing ever since these dreams started. It rings a little more hollowly than usual. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
“I know that, but I also know it freaks you out.”
He doesn’t answer, but she reads the truth in his eyes.
She holds her elbows close to her body, looking away. “Sasuke?”
“Hm.”
“If you…if you think it will help…do you think he would have answers?”
Mismatched eyes harden. “Sakura…we don’t have to.”
“It’s the third time this week. We need to start considering this might not be over any time soon. And if anyone has answers about talking to the dead…”
“It’s him,” Sasuke concludes, grim. He studies her closely for several seconds, as if trying to gauge how serious she is, and then nods. “Alright. We’ll find him.”
“Find him?” she repeats. “I thought he was staying outside of Konoha?”
“Only when he feels like it. He was up to something in Tea Country the last time I communicated with him,” Sasuke says, bringing out a summoning parchment; she notes that it’s the one with the line to Ryūchi Cave, not the aeries of his usual hawk summons. “I suspect he enjoys making Captain Yamato go prematurely grey…”
眠り
The journey back home is much longer than Shachi expected, although she supposes that’s because this time she’s conscious. For two weeks she and Asura, along with the small contingent of his followers, trek through forest and field.
The closer they get to Indra, the more anxious Shachi becomes. She tugs at her sleeves, readjusts her voluminous robes over her belly – she’s smaller than she usually is at this point in her pregnancy, probably due to her illness – or fans herself with the shikai Kanna gave them at their parting. She walks as much as she dares, but her condition doesn’t always allow for her to move by her own power. She would much rather they stop for rest more often than accepting the necessity of being carried by litter.
The third time she begs for a stop, Asura obligingly calls for a halt and offers to escort her to a nearby stream for some water. This is pretense, she discovers, when they reach the water source and he flat-out asks her if she’s alright.
“You were so insistent on returning to your home, and yet now you appear satisfied to delay while you regain your strength,” he points out. “This journey is for your benefit, little sister, yet I feel perhaps you are having reservations.”
Of course, her brother-in-law would notice.
And, as she has become accustomed to in the passing months, she finds herself confessing her worries to him.
“He hasn’t been looking for me,” she murmurs, wringing her hands fretfully and turning a beseeching look on Asura. “What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he doesn’t want…?”
Her unspoken ‘me’ hangs in the air.
“We don’t know he hasn’t been looking for you,” Asura says evenly. “And if he was…unless he knew to seek you out in our homeland, he would not have been able to find you.” At her confused look, he explains, “My chakra tends to overwhelm our entire region. There’s no need for me to hide it in my own home, and so even though you haven’t had your chakra suppressed since you first arrived, he wouldn’t be able to notice yours in the same vicinity as mine.”
“And he never would have thought to seek you out when I was taken, because it was one of your followers and not you that committed the deed,” she concludes dully.
Asura offers her his usual apologetic expression at this; she hates that look, because he reminds her of a sad puppy. It’s hard to remain angry at him, and so instead she glares over at the aforementioned man.
“Is that why Taizo is here?” she asks. “To acquit himself?”
“Somewhat,” Asura says. “But…I suspect Kanna wanted him along. No doubt he intends to knock me out and drag me back home in the event I put myself in true danger.”
“She would do it herself if she wasn’t worried for the baby,” Shachi agrees.
Asura nods, his expression softening. He looks into the distance, no doubt thinking of his wife at home and their future child. From what Kanna told Shachi, she has never been able to carry a child very long past her first month; upon their departure, Kanna was almost at three months.
I wonder if you and your brothers and sisters will ever meet your cousin, Shachi wonders, pressing her hand to her middle.
She hopes so.
Something occurs to her.
“Wait – if your chakra is so overwhelming, won’t my husband sense you coming?” Shachi asks. “He might expect an attack.”
The idea of the brothers coming to blows disturbs her.
“It may draw him out, yes, but that’s what we want,” Asura says. “Especially now that I have you with me. I wouldn’t have risked that when I was searching for him myself. I kept my presence masked.”
“Why?”
“I fear without your stabilising influence, one of us would surely die from that encounter.”
Shachi sighs. “You seem to think I have a stabilising influence.”
“You have been married for him for nearly a decade, and yet you live,” Asura tells her. “Not only that, you are still good and kind and generous. Even Indra cannot fail to be tempered by that.”
Shachi blushes at the compliment. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Asura says, confident. “And if my brother requires the truth to be beaten into him – I’d sacrifice life and limb to get the point across.”
つづく
Huh! So, parts of this fought me, other parts came easy and others took me completely by surprise because I wasn’t planning them. Enjoy?
クリ
Next Chapter
#kuriquinn#narutofanfiction#sasusaku#samsara#reincarnation#sakura uchiha#sasuke uchiha#shachi ootsutsuki#fluff#feels#drama
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A friend of mine was struggling with her faith last week and was brave enough to ask for help and advice. What a brace thing to do, tell others your struggling and that you could use some help. I sent her this long message that I think everyone could use from time to time. I wrote this for my friend, but I think I also wrote it for you. And I think I wrote it for me. Don't be afraid to be honest about your faith (in struggles or to help others through their struggles). This was such a blessing for me and I hope you have the chance to share your faith with someone too. Enjoy: First of all, you’re not alone. I think there isn’t a young person out there who hasn’t had their faith questioned a) through trying to figure out the world at a young age and b) because college makes you question literally everything from your politlictical stance to the major that will be best suited for you to your faith in God. It was kind of designed to make you question things (which can totally be a great thing, but also kind of dangerous depending on what it is you’re throwing out the window and why). I went through a time kind of related to yours. I went through a time when I just stopped talking to God. It’s like how you said you feel like you keep “going to voicemail”—I just decided to hang up and keep the phone off the hook for a bit. I had never really done that before and it wasn’t so bad at first, but after a bit I realized I was so lonely. It ended up being one of the loneliest times of my life. Long story short, I just started back small. For me, if I feel like I need to get back to God or that I don’t feel His presence (which is truly just a feeling, not an actuality. Because God is with us whether we think so or not), I started praying for situation—other than my own—that I’m concerned about. I would pray for my niece who was still struggling with cancer. I would pray for that friend of mine that I felt was a little depressed. I would pray for my family and that they were doing okay back home. I would pray for that girl in class that was struggling financially. I got back into the mode of praying for people I’d pass on ped walkway and at crosswalks. But I didn’t do any of this formally. I did this in a very casual, “just calling to drop in” kinda way to open that line of communication back up. It’s almost more like I would text God because I needed to feel that he was there. Slowly I started feeling a change and feeling the spirit in me wake up a bit, and before too long, I asked him for forgiveness for trying to do life without Him and completely by my own standards and on my own terms—which was a complete and utter failure and a total mess really. I can’t tell you how I relieved I felt and how free I felt. It really is just like any relationship though I think. Just being intentional and talking things out does make a world of difference. And talking about things that are on your mind—even when they aren’t related directly to your problems—like you would with your best friend makes you closer too. Those conversations are exactly what God wants from us—because I believe He just wants to be close to that heart He carefully created and loves so much. He wants to walk with us and go through life with us which I think perfectly describes a true best friend. There was another point in my life that kind of showed me how to get out of a slump. It was when my niece was diagnosed with cancer. I didn’t let go of God. I held on but I had to in a different way I think because I had never in my life gone through a time as trying and as constantly terrible and stressful as that time period. Around that time I wrote this short little thing I let loose on tumblr that was exactly what I did and how I felt at that time: “I always thought I was thankful. I’d thank God for my family, my friends, materials like my car and the fact I had a roof over my head. It was something I’m very glad I did and I wish a lot more people thanked our God for the blessings He’s given us. But I’ve found a way to be more thankful; When I hit one of the darkest times in my life, I didn’t know how to thank God for what I had, Because what I was missing was so very important. So I did the one thing the devil didn’t want from me. I thanked God for everything I didn’t have. I thanked Him for what I was missing. I thanked Him for the people who had walked out on me. I thanked Him for those who broke my heart. I thanked Him for my inability to stop loving those who were gone. It seemed irrational, but thanking God for the blessings I couldn’t hold was a blessing in itself. And now, I’m a better person for it. When I couldn’t find a way to heal my own heart, I took it, with all its broken pieces, gave it to Him, and thanked Him for every cut, bruise, and scrape I’d acquired upon it throughout my life. That’s when I fought evil with good. And that’s when He saved me…again.” I know you said you felt the devil coming after you and I have felt that very same thing. So I took all the good things I had at that moment and brought them to God in thanks. At first they didn’t seem like much but once I did that, I realized how blessed I was. That changed me. And I still believe that was the one thing the devil didn’t want from me. Light always flushes out the darkness. And if we stay in darkness too long, we fall asleep. I’ve fallen asleep. I’ve hung up on God. I’ve walked away. I’ve run away. And I’ve snuck off a few times while lying to myself and saying I wasn’t doing just that. But every single time, the feeling of coming back is I think the feeling of being reborn. And it’s never too late to come back. You’re never too bad, too lost, too far gone, too confused, too old, or too educated to be reborn. It’s always a good day to be reborn if you ask me. So basically, both of these approaches are what have helped me throughout the years (opening up simple communication and building that relationship back up to the point of asking for forgiveness and turning your life back over to God and then simply thanking Him for his blessings and being aware of the good He has done—and will do—in your life). I’m only telling you this because those are two personal experiences I’ve had and this is just what I think. I’m a mess. So just know this doesn’t come from a place of judgement or “here’s what you have to do because I said so and so clearly that’s the only way.” It might not work exactly like that for you. Those are just two personal experiences I’ve had that I’ve never really shared with anyone before. So it’s just a little bit about where I’ve been and how things went down. Either way, I’m praying for you. I’ve prayed for you many times since I met you and you’re someone I certainly have not forgotten about! I just honestly believe in you a whole lot. There’s such a light in you that I saw when I met you and that light sets you apart and I really hope you see it and help it to shine the way God wants you to. You’re so important. And you asking these hard questions and searching and seeking is proof that you care. It’s proof that you’re growing, that you’re trying. And I think God wants you to ask Him those tough questions or at least bring it to Him. Big or small, He wants it because He wants us. So I pray that God gives you wisdom and knowledge. I pray that He gives you strength in the face of all these people and stats and classes and professors who are telling you about their beliefs. I also pray that you find peace and comfort in all of this. And real truth. I pray you feel God and you see him in a way that lights a fire inside of you and wakes a part of you up to where you see His truth and His goodness and His everlasting love. And even when we can’t feel those things, I am so so relieved to know that God hears us, feels us, sees us, and understands us and all that our confused minds and hearts are asking for and saying. There are so many unspoken prayers of yours that I know He’s already heard from you even when you couldn’t put them into words—because he cares that much. For me, that is such a relief and comfort. Please know that I’m just a message away if you ever just need a sounding board. I am so so up to having any sort of conversation with you about any of this! God loves you and so do I.
#we all struggle#god is real#faith help#questions about faith#letter#letters#faith letter#how to get through#how to get better#advice#Christian#Christianity#prayer#how to pray#god is working on me#god#jesus#god loves you#god loves me#faith#have faith#keep on#pray without ceasing#work on your relationships#thecountryhipster#advice on god#advice about faith#how to be saved#how to get saved#for you
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