#truly wild that you guys think she is as unhappy and depressed as she was in 1989

[anadrenalineslut]

I think nothing annoys me more than gaylors who can't understand the bridge of dear reader and think it's a declaration that her and Joe aren't actually dating when it's a song about 1989 and her grief of being closeted against her will.

[sugarbabyariaeva]

Baby Steps.

I’ve been thinking about writing a blog for awhile now but I could never decide whether I’d write about my crazy and wild life growing up and how lucky and fun it truly was / is or if I should write about the difficulty of navigating this American society I grew up in but trying to find the proper footing that still acknowledged my modest Islamic middle eastern background and also feel free to do as I pleased like the friends I was raised around. Orrrr if I should write about how I have hit rock bottom in my life many times regarding love & relationships with such narcissistic men because of the relationships I witnessed around me as I grew up and how FINALLY at the ripe age of 25, I’m now realizing how these toxic patterns have truly affected me and have really begun the work of healing myself, my nervous system, meditations, health & working out. Lastly, I wondered if I should talk about my other life.. “Eva’s life” that’s my sugar baby name & poker name that I go by.. & that’s just a whole other story. So I figured this blog could be a little bit of everything. Hopefully whoever comes by my page is interested enough & wants to tag along for the ride.

I woke up this morning & didn’t grab my phone to instantly scroll on Instagram or w/e. I wanted to start my day better today with purpose. I have 99 days till my next birthday so gotta make ‘em count right? Somehow I got lost in my photos app and scrolled all the way to the top and saw the last 4-5 years of my life play out. The pics ranged from me happy with family, traveling with friends and partying it upppp vip everything and just living to me being extremely unhappy, unhealthy, unfocused, essentially felt like I was dying inside. I would lose all of this momentarily for these boyfriends (my last was the most painful-and when I say bf’s I mean recent ones.. they were the same lessons diff issues and w diff men) who were like leeches and sucked the life out of me and it’s was painful to feel and see myself begging for human decency over text message screenshots and being verbally abused and humiliating to look back on. No one really gets why you stay in these types of traumatic relationships but they have a way of creating this unearthly addiction you’ve never felt anywhere else until you met them. Doesn’t help when the guy you’re dating looks like he’s built like a Greek god and as if god put him there for you since he seemed so perfect for you specifically. & on your first date you guys felt like this was what you’d been waiting for for so long. Little did we know that was just our unhealed wounds triggering our nervous systems like “NOOOOO don’t do it” lol but I wasn’t aware yet that those butterflies and initial feelings of “wow this is IT” was just my body trying to warn me. I do think we had love and potential but unfortunately, we highlighted the wounds we both had lying beneath the surface waiting to be dealt with and processed.

As I went through the pics I felt the energy in them and decided that I wouldn’t let it ruin my day. I picked up my laptop and began doing my breathwork and once I finished I was feeling so light and good and GRATEFUL that I made it passed those extremely long painful dark dark dark days that I truly did not know how to. Addiction to people is real and it fucks with your mental stability deeply. If it wasn’t for my aunt coming down to la to visit me and seeing how disastrous I was and my cousin who moved to la going through her own depression aka we needed help lol (not to mention she’s a yogi). I don’t think I’d be here and as stupid as that sounds- I was so deep into this toxicity I know I would’ve gotten sick and most likely died somehow. The min she got here all my body aches and scratchy throat etc went away within a day. I could feel it that my vibration was sooo low and I can truly thank my aunt and my spiritual team for truly helping me so much beyond measure and raising my vibe. It was NOT easy still isn’t sometimes. I cry randomly and then I keep it pushing. Sometimes it lingers but I don’t cry cuz I’m sad. I cry for who I was during those dark times, the pain and abuse I endured.. how now I see that he was a fundamentally malicious, manipulative and a very deceptive being. All because of my “job”. Mind you, I was not sugaring then nor was I in poker really. (Lost my normal office job cuz he took me to Miami and wanted to stay an extra couple days and I had work..& I had been super sick (covid) two weeks before and they needed someone full time and hell nah- it just wasn’t it alignment) nonetheless, I knew I couldn’t do another 9-5 (he didn’t, he was a personal trainer and a trapper) & I wasn’t interested in anyone but him so in my head it was just work and I was there to be a poker hostess. He hated it. His ex did it too and yaaa that didn’t work out. Anywayssss, there is absolutely NO excuse for the way I was treated and I’m here to share with whoever reads this that life is SO much better on the other side once you PROCESS your pain, learn WHY you stayed with someone and WHY you were attracted to them in the first place.

With all this being said, I think we can call this a blog that entails life lessons, health & wellness, & a bit of toxicity as well, cuz.. life is all about balance and I’m a sugar baby & I work extremely private underground high stakes poker games in major cities all over the world lol. I call this my powerful feminine era 🤌🏽

Stick along for the ride. It will be fun✨

[onesunofagun]

I shall now yell about Ingo, please stand by:

Ingo’s transformation from the underappreciated backbone of the ranch to an absolute ruff-wearing cantaloupe of a man is also pretty interesting (if you’re the kind of person who absorbs the Zelda series through your skin like a frog to live).

I’ve bolded the key points for skimmers.

Granted, the manga has it that Ingo just gets brainwashed by Twinrova into being a staunch follower of Ganondorf. That’s not canon, but it’s not informing any of this thinking, either way. 

In the beginning of OoT we meet Talon by waking him up from a nap, and we learn pretty quickly that he’s lazy and often yelled at by his daughter for slacking off like this. Ingo at the ranch confirms again that Talon doesn’t pull his weight around there, and since Malon’s still a child, it’s pretty obvious that Ingo’s settled with the bulk of the work.

Ingo is grumpy, he’s resentful, and he complains a lot. But he does do the work, and you can find him (presumably) in the process of mucking out the stables. 

Let’s examine what he does at the ranch:

Epona really liked that song... Only I could tame that horse... Even Mr. Ingo had a hard time...

Now, Epona is established in game to be a real winner of a horse. She’s fast, she’s smart, she’s got a lovely sorrel coat and white mane that seems to be quite rare or highly prized coloring. The catch is, she is notoriously wild. The only people she tolerates are Malon and Link, due in large part to being soothed by the song Malon’s mother taught her.

Ingo had to really try to crack this horse, which Malon’s observation suggests is unusual. 

Epona is very young when we first see her, so it’s never really revealed if she was caught wild, or bred at the ranch with a very headstrong temperament.

Ingo’s clearly the guy that’s breaking them in, though. The most Talon is doing is... sleeping in with the cuccos. We never see any organisation of the cuccos, in terms of egg collection or poultry farming, but nevertheless, Talon has the much less physical jobs even if he was doing them. His focus seems to be cuccos, deliveries to the castle and book keeping between naps (and to be fair it’s probably a little depression related, given the dead wife).

Malon gives us a cow later on, and she’s got the egg for the crowing cucco that wakes up Talon, so I’d like to assume for simplicity’s sake that even as a kid, Malon was up at dawn most days helping Ingo with the cows and milking them. It’s never really implied that she has amazing skill in dealing with horses, just that Epona has a special connection with her specifically. Other than that, Malon is simply kind and respectful of her animals (though I’ve got no idea how she got that cow to Link’s treehouse and that’s worth investigating). 

Later on, Ingo is also shown to be a competent rider. Enough that he has absolutely no qualms in challenging Link to races for wagers, and was quite confident of his ability to win.

The takeaway is, Ingo is usually VERY GOOD with both caring for and training horses, if not breeding them for the ranch.

That kind of lends to his grumbling, when he is referring to himself as ‘the Great Ingo’ and comparing himself to Talon, who is a ‘bum’. His claim to greatness may not be undeserved, at least in horse circles, and especially if he’s not getting particular credit for it, his bitterness and frustration (alongside envy, exhaustion, and dreams of recognition) would be quite deeply run.

So it seems that his friend and employer is clearly taking some advantage of him, especially after the death of Malon’s mother.

So now, let’s examine his feelings, and how he changes.

The feelings Ingo has about that are pretty textbook for the sort of thing ‘evil takes hold of and twists’, in the Zeldaverse.

Focussing on the game itself, Malon says this as an adult:

Since Ganondorf came, people in the Castle Town have gone, places have been ruined, and monsters are wandering everywhere. Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... Everyone seems to be turning evil...

We do see other characters in Hyrule become influenced by the ‘darkness in their hearts’ as byproduct of Ganondorf’s reign. 

A prominent example of a character who was visibly dissatisfied with their lot, and then notably changes (while praising Ganondorf for what he’d done), is the Castle Guard who is heavily implied to have become the Poe Dealer. Even if by some slim means it’s not the same person, the Poe Dealer does still express that they could not do the work they do without Ganon as King, and that they now benefit from him being in that position and are grateful to him.

The Kakariko Carpenters seem to have given into their fantasies about living among the Gerudo women, and gone out to the Valley and gotten themselves taken prisoner. Following work near the fortress, the team chooses to act on their selfish desires and go for broke, chasing their dreams. They weren’t previously prepared to act upon these fantasies when Link was young, admittedly much milder in their still very prominent obsession, but seven years later, they’re quite happy to risk it all and piss away the stability of their careers (and nearly their lives) at the first opportunity.

Anyway, the trend is, those across Hyrule who are unhappy with their lot before Ganondorf’s coup tend to be ‘corrupted’ by seven years later, and appear to have given in to a twisted version of whatever they most wanted. 

This is noteworthy especially because the language in the game revolves around the Sacred Realm being opened and corrupted, too, by Ganondorf’s unbalanced heart and selfish goals. It is unable to be ‘sealed’ again while Link has the Master Sword. In aLttP, we know there is a mirror like effect to do with the sacred turned dark realm, in which it reflects the hearts of men. 

So it is very reasonable to say, that for OoT in particular, much of this evil influence plaguing the land and preying on the darkness an people’s hearts is a result of the corruption of the Sacred Realm. It is an indirect byproduct of Ganondorf’s acquiring of the Triforce, but not necessarily something he himself does to people on purpose, unlike the brainwashing of Nabooru.

Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... But Dad... He was kicked out of the ranch by Mr. Ingo... If I disobey Mr. Ingo, he will treat the horses so badly...

This explains a lot of the more callous and greedy behaviour that Ingo shows later on, and why it seems to disappear when he is truly humbled by Link. 

Link’s win serves as a reminder of Ingo’s stagnating skill with horses, the very thing that made him feel so deserving of praise and recognition in the first place, in that for everything he now has control of at the ranch, he still cannot control that horse. He has become as much of a bum as Talon ever was, relegating Malon to do all the hard work while Ingo struts around uselessly. He’s even lost his touch with the Horses so much, in his arrogance, that now he has taken up mistreating them and using harsh and abusive methods (according to Malon’s concerns).

The humiliation and shame takes hold, his pride shattering with the loss of Epona-- not only as a valuable asset, but also as the horse he could never truly tame.

The dark feelings he was holding onto are let go of, as he regains a sense of humility, and the corruptive influence upon him dissipates. He even seeks out Talon to bury the hatchet and invite him back to the ranch.

Oh, I have to tell you about Mr. Ingo... He was afraid that the Evil King might find out that Epona had been taken away... It really upset him! But one day, all of a sudden, he went back to being a normal, nice person! Now my dad is coming back...I can't believe it, but peace is returning to this ranch!

But what about his obsession with Ganondorf in particular?

When the coup happened, Ingo watched the King of the Gerudo unwittingly play out a sort of grand parallel to what Ingo felt should happen on the ranch. To Ingo’s perception, I think Ganondorf was representing an ideal version of Ingo himself. 

A man of the desert, where hard work and grit are as second nature to survive the harsh conditions. A man frustrated with the King of Hyrule’s shit, and forced to swear fealty to him despite being a King himself. A man resplendent with wealth, with fine and flashy clothes and plentiful jewelry.

And perhaps the most important note of all, the Gerudo in OoT? 

They’re horse people. 

They love horses. Ganondorf’s horse is reputed to be a purebred Black Gerudo Stallion, which is obviously a specialty breed, that is fully armoured and as flashy as he is. When the Gerudo cut the bridge leading to the valley, the only way in and out is to have a skilled horse jump the gap. 

They also have a huge horseback archery range, and prowess in the sport is an incredible source of respect amongst the Gerudo, and many of the guards possess bladed polearms suitable for mounted use. From this, it can be assumed that during the recent civil war, Gerudo weapons, war tack and military tactics were probably built around mounted cavalry archers foremost, with a lesser focus on light and heavy cavalry aside (iron knuckle armour springs to mind).

Anyway, Horses are very important to the Gerudo in the era of Ocarina of Time.

So Ganondorf is also unique in the sense that he is the King of a people who value what it is that Ingo does very highly. He, of all people, stands to immediately recognise the knowledge and skill that Ingo possesses in rearing horses.

So this is a man who successfully stages a coup of Hyrule, who clearly inspires Ingo to do much the same of the ranch, and who Ingo also feels is very likely to take his side should he appeal the matter.

And Ganondorf does.

And if that’s not a great compliment to Ingo’s actual skill, I don’t know what is, because Ganondorf is not a man that suffers fools. He’s got a limited patience when it comes to shit that is beneath his notice. Clearly, he recognises that Ingo is indeed the backbone of that ranch-- and the main reason for the quality of its Horses-- and rewards this accordingly.

And for Ingo, being on decent terms with the big scary goth King is a very, very good place to be. But it’s more than that!

What a guy! Not only did he deliver on Ingo’s long due validation, he gave Ingo everything he’d ever dreamed of having to his name, and the authority to kick Talon to the curb. He gets it! Ganondorf, this great eight foot beacon of freshly sought divine power and topaz-encrusted glory, this absolute unit of a man, this great underdog horse-lover after Ingo’s own heart; he really understands how great Ingo is. Ganondorf is paving the way for people like them! Oh, to rub shoulders wiht such greatness when the rest of Hyrule is scorned. 

Ingo feels seen. The Great Ganondorf made all that thankless time spent shovelling horse shit while Talon slept mean something. The Gerudo appreciate Ingo’s talents.

And all Ingo has to do is keep turning out really good horses, and promise to present the King with his finest.

So Ingo knows he’s in deep shit when he gets cocky and loses Epona to a wager, who at this point, he’s prepared pretty well and sunk a lot of money into on the idea that she’s going to Ganondorf. 

Who he’s probably bragged to about how fast she is.

He lost her to some jerk in tights who’d barely ridden before, too. And then when Ingo tried to cheat him out of the win, the kid jumped the damned fence an in ass-bustingly cool move that really just drove home how excellent and rare Epona was.

One does not promise the King of the Gerudo a fast horse and then fail to deliver, let alone for such a stupid reason.

Honestly, by the end, the man’s just happy to be alive.

Also I’d like to think he and Talon had a much fairer delegation of work and forgave each other, each really learning to appreciate what they have and what’s really important.

how the fuck did the Kokiri leave the forest for this scene anyway, they don’t even have their faries???

[noctuascion]

Hi! I have a Cryptage prompt, if you're still taking them, because my writing brain appears to be taking the day (week? month? year??) off. Basically crypto feeling insecure about how many adoring fans Mirage has, and not being able to be comfortable with other people telling Mirage that they're "in love" with him. :)

Oh, hello there!! I'm always taking prompts!! And, yeah, I feel that. Lol. I'll gladly take your prompt, though!! Thank you!!!

--

Park didn't belong in the spotlight for a multitude of reasons: he was terse, quiet, preferred his privacy, and was just uncomfortable with it in general. Crypto wasn't meant for the limelight in general—he was to be a mysterious character with little care for interviews and what his fans said about him.

Elliott, however, thrived on the attention, Mirage a prime example of someone made to live with all eyes on him. He was spectacular in the ring and able to charm his adoring public, all bright smiles and dazzling moves. His fans were eager to show their love for Elliott, Park noticed, one afternoon the two were spending together.

Elliott was reading some fan mail whilst Park was busying himself drawing on the trickster's arm, sleeve rolled up and intricate patterns marked along the tanned canvas, flowers and cats occasionally tossed into the mix. Elliott never minded. They always reminded him of really cool tattoos, and he didn't want to get any anytime soon, so he was fine with Park just drawing all over him (even if it was a pain to clean off later).

However, the hacker's curious gaze couldn't help but shift towards the letter currently in hand. It was from some female fan that had been watching Elliott ever since his first year of competing. There were a lot of sweet comments, about how he helped her move on from toxicity in her life, and that his smile was enough to make her a happier woman. He could see Elliott smiling as well; improving someone's life must make him joyful.

But Park didn't miss the confession near the very bottom, the typical "I'm in love with you." Elliott apparently received the phrase a lot—and not just counting the night they got together. For someone like Elliott, love never came easy, despite his desperate attempts to find someone to use all of that love in his heart on, to find someone to dedicate his existence to. Some people could be heartless, treating him like a ticket into a better life, and others abused him emotionally to get what they wanted. He had to grow thicker skin, learn from his mistakes, before he truly sought out someone that made his world worthwhile. Park commended his confidence and bravery. He's never been in relationships before, but leaving toxic ones must take a lot out of one mentally and emotionally.

Still, rereading that letter, the constant praises and adoration, the love for Mirage and everything he does, caused a feeling far too familiar to the man to wash over his mind, normally hectic thoughts beginning to run wild. Park wasn't one for letting insecurities bother him, but it seemed they, like a lot of things, made him feel uneasy, unhappy.

Elliott folded the letter with one hand, setting it aside, before pulling another one from his pile, this time temporarily taking the hacker's canvas away to rip the envelope open, arm returning to its prior stationary position. Again, though Park had tried to focus on drawing, his eyes drifted over the letter, though he wish he hadn't, as this fan appeared to be less shameful with their desires. He's sure, if Elliott peeked at him, he'd be flushed pink.

This time, though, the confession was within the first three paragraphs, third sentence of the second one. "I love you so much. I want to live my life with you," he read, frowning. People clamoring over themselves to be with Elliott—it was almost pitiful, but, then again, he didn't expect much from fans. Even his own can be a bit rowdy, though they appear much more mellow compared to his partner's.

The trickster didn't smile this time, just folding and tossing the letter aside without much change in expression. Another letter was opened up, arm returning to Park (even though he's become far too distracted to even think about drawing right now), and began reading the next one.

Once again, a love confession could be seen in the final paragraph, though it was far more poetic than simply "I'm in love with you." She had taken time writing this, it seemed, pouring her heart out on paper to this complete stranger she only knows via the television.

"Every waking day without seeing you is a strike to my heart. Your smile is radiance, and your very being is joy. My desire for you goes beyond physical, a wish to see within your heart, to let our souls intertwine in a dance for only us to see. I want everything you are, everything you'll ever be."

Elliott's fans really were adoring, if that was anything to go by. Park wasn't jealous by any means—frankly, were he to receive such letters, he can only see himself tearing them up and throwing them out. Elliott would scold him, saying someone put a lot of work into those, and Park would retort with: "They should spend time sending those types of letters to someone whose name they actually know."

That same feeling earlier returned, insecurity gnawing at his heart. Dour expression crossing his visage, his hand released Elliott's, marker pulled away, immediately alerting the other. Curious, the trickster reached out to poke the other's cheek, downcast eyes now moving to meet his own.

"Hey sweetheart, something on your mind?" he asked, hand dropping to place itself on the other's shoulder, an attempt at reassurance.

"… No."

Elliott raised a brow. "So you just look super depressed just 'cause?"

"… Yes."

A soft snort escaped Elliott, tossing the letter aside and moving to wrap an arm around the smaller's shoulders. "You and I know that's bullshit. Come clean and I won't get the information through other means."

The dangerous wiggling of his fingers was enough to tell Park just how he'd "gather information."

"Fine. But promise not to be mad at me…?"

"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, sugar pie. Probably a biological thing."

Park released a breath, head moving to lean on Elliott's shoulder. "I was… reading the letters your fans sent you…"

"… Is… Is that it? 'Cause, if it is, I think we need to have a talk about what makes you feel guilty and why it's dumb."

Park scoffed, though it was more amused than annoyed. "No, that's not it. But… you have a lot of… caring fans."

"Emphasis on 'caring' makes me think you might be meaning a different word entirely."

"They're affectionate… and kind… and they say nice things about you…"

"… Are you… jealous—? Have I not been saying enough nice things about you?"

"No, no, you say enough—probably too much, actually. But, no, I just… I don't think I like your fans saying how much they love you. It makes me think, one day, they'll make you feel more loved than I do…"

Elliott couldn't wipe the shock from his expression, immediately unwrapping his arm from Park's shoulders to place his hands on them instead, turning him so he was now face-to-face. The hacker's gaze had fallen once again, dourly staring at the copious amounts of love letters Elliott received on a daily basis.

In the end, that's all they were to him—just letters. They never amounted to the smile he got to see everyday, the gentle kisses and careful touches, the sweet feeling of his beloved's hands in his own, and nothing could ever amount to the three little words Park so seldom uttered, the way his cheeks would tinge pink and the sheepish tone that replaced his confident, cool one.

He couldn't imagine trading any of that for empty words spoken by fans.

"Hey, angel? Who do you know me as?" he asked.

"… I suppose I know you as Elliott."

"And who do my fans know me as?"

"I… I guess they only know you as Mirage."

"They get to see that persona of me, the fake me."

Elliott's hands began sliding down Park's arms, tracing gently over the smooth skin, feeling the change between real and synthetic skin, before gently grasping his hands in his own.

"They see the smile I wear when I don't want people knowing what I'm feeling. They see me acting cool and confident, and they don't ever see Elliott, the guy who just wants to own a bunch of dogs and has as many insecurities as he does kills in the arena."

Park's hands were raised now, Elliott craning his neck just a bit to press kisses to the knuckles, smiling at the other, who was beginning to look less and less dour and more surprised by the trickster's words.

"You get to see me, Elliott Witt, the guy who drools on your hoodies and accidentally chews on your hair because he thinks it's cotton candy."

That broght forth a laugh from the hacker, trying to pull a hand away from Elliott's to cover it, but the trickster was adamant in seeing his smile, hearing his laugh.

"And I get to see you in all your own dorky glory."

"I'm not dorky. You just bring out the weird in people," Park responded through his fit of giggles, any trace of sadness or insecurity having faded from his visage, only replaced by mirth and joy.

"That, I do." Elliott smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to Park's forehead. "I'd never leave you, pancake. You're the only person on the Frontier who would still love me even after hearing about all my baggage. I'm a mess, but I've never heard you complain."

"Maybe when you're drooling on me."

Elliott smiled, chuckling. "Yeah, you do complain about that a lot."

"But, even if you drool on me, I still… love you."

"And I love you too, darling."

[notafunkiller]

Restore Me - Aaron Warner Discussion (+Spoilers)

Can we talk about Aaron and his freaking unhappy childhood, at first?

Terrible fucked up father. Sick mother. No real friends because he couldn't truly trust anybody. A grandfather he can't completely act with like family.

He's a model for other Supreme Commanders' kids. A must-be perfect soldier. A must-be perfect machine.

“My father taught me to shoot a gun when I was nine years old. When I was ten he sliced open the back of my leg and showed me how to suture my own wounds. At eleven he broke my arm and abandoned me in the wild for two weeks. At age twelve I was taught to build and defuse my own bombs. He began teaching me how to fly planes when I was thirteen.

He never did teach me how to ride a bike. I figured that out on my own."

Soft spot for fashion. 7 languages. Baths, clothes and sport. A whiny and tall ex-'girlfriend', who hurts him out of jealousy and with who he had a political and just physical relationship. She is the opposite of Juliette.

Problems and secrets. Panic attacks. Flogged by his father on his birthday almost every year. The only gift he's ever recieved was a special jade ring from his mother. He has two half-brothers, but Adam won't tell James about it... hurting Aaron.

No matter how mad at him you are, I remind you he's the same guy who cried when his mother died and when Juliette broke up with him. The same guy who's been protecting Juliette since he met her. The same guy who learned every single word from her diary. And lived them. And cried them. And ate them. And dreamed them.

The same guy who believed in her from the very beggining and still does.

“The world tried to crush you,” I say, gently now, “and you refused to be shattered. You've recovered from every setback a stronger person, rising from the ashes only to astonish everyone around you. And you will continue to surprise and confuse those who underestimate you. It is an inevitability,” I say. “A foregone conclusion."

A guy who thinks and treats her like she's the freaking sun, who wants her to win. To be the best.

“This job should’ve been yours, you know. Not mine.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she says, nodding. She can no longer look at me. “Everyone’s thinking it, even if they don’t say it. Castle. Kenji. I bet even the soldiers think so.”

“Everyone can go to hell.”

The trust he has in her... the admiration.

“It should’ve been you,” Castle says. “I always secretly hoped—from the day you showed up at Omega Point—that it would’ve been you. That you would join us. And lead us.” He shakes his head. “You were born for this. You would’ve managed it all beautifully.”

“I didn’t want this job,” I say to him, sharp and clipped. “Our nation needed change. It needed a leader with heart and passion and I am not that person. Juliette cares about these people. She cares about their hopes, their fears—and she will fight for them in a way I never would.”

He was just a hopeless teenager who wanted to please his father and be close to his mother no matter what, so he had to do some really awful things, including the torture of the sister of his girlfriend. Unintentionally. Not knowing who she was.

“You’re only nineteen years old, Mr Warner. And I think you forget that all the time. You have no perspective, no idea that you’ve only barely lived. There’s still so much life ahead of you.”

Now, he doesn't know how to deal with his demons that try to control him, the depressing pain of losing both of his parents, the heartbreak and the fear of losing the only girl he's ever loved, the strange process of becoming real friends with someone.

He's fucked up and he will fuck up in the future too, because he's learning how to be himself, how to free himself from the whole weight that has been eating him alive: the anger, the secrets he thought he had to hide from Juliette just to keep her safe and sound (about her parents and his mistakes from the past), the forgotten memories he's never thought he had, the situation he is in.

He's naive. He doesn't know how else to do things, because that's how he's done them his whole life. He was taught to be an invincible robot.

“I’m not sure you’re aware of this,” she says finally, “but it’s okay to mourn the loss of your father, even if he was a terrible person. You know?” She peers up at me. “You’re not a robot.”

So I think in the next two books we'll see Aaron learning to open up, to share his feelings and problems with others, with Juliette, to remember Juliette and their possible friendship, their bond.

We'll see his development too.

We'll see an even more powerful end, with both of them evolved so beautifully: separately at first, then as a couple. They will learn together. But for that to happen, they need to become close friends, share for their and each other's sake everything.

They will figure it out!

Aaron will figure it out! He's a really strong, wonderfully written character. He'll be alright! No matter how freaking much his father had tried to fuck him up, stealing his memories and his childhood away from him.

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: MOVIE REVIEW: I’m Thinking of Ending Things

(Image courtesy of Netflix)

I’M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS— 2 STARS

Let’s take a look at a certain adjective that follows Oscar-winning filmmaker Charlie Kaufman and his films around closer than their own shadows. The word is “peculiar.” Its most desirable descriptor is a “particular, unique, and special” badge of honor of distinction and exclusivity. That always gets attention. The more odious and common use of peculiar, however, finger-points the “out of the ordinary, queer, odd, and strange.” Charlie Kaufman has long been a beautiful mess of both connotations, and his latest work, the frosty Netflix chiller I’m Thinking of Ending Things, typifies the extreme of that polarity in an unfavorable fashion.

LESSON #1: WHY PECULIARITY DOESN’T ALWAYS WORK— At least for this writer and viewer, the inescapable burden about exuding such a full range of peculiarity is that each half does not always engender the other. Odd and strange for the sake of odd and strange isn’t automatically worth top distinction. Not everything out of the ordinary deserves heaping praise, just for the sake of being different. Somewhere in that creative cauldron, the exclusive strangeness has to simmer into something effective or heady. Do that and you get the aforementioned badge. 

Not entirely because of the ever-present and symbolic snow, this film doesn’t get anywhere close to that temperature. You’re going to read truly intriguing remarks about I’m Thinking About Ending Things, starting with Netflix’s own pitch of the movie being “an exploration of regret, longing and the fragility of the human spirit.” Every exploration needs a compass and this movie’s one is as dead as a door nail.   

LESSON #2: MEETING PARENTS WILL ALWAYS BE A BIG DEAL— The trajectory of I’m Thinking of Ending Things and that frozen compass does begin with direction. An unnamed young woman (Jessie Buckley of Wild Rose) at the crossroads of a long-term relationship with her quiet and sensitive boyfriend named Jake (the prolific Jesse Plemons) joins him for a road trip to the country to visit his parents. Guys don’t bring every gal home, making this a nostalgic trip for him and opportunities for her to earn browning points. If that was only her desire. 

LESSON #3: THE INTERNAL MONOLOGUE OF DESPONDENCY— One of the first internal monologues from Buckley’s scattered and worrisome narration during that car ride blends two foreboding questions. Her character wonders whether an unspoken idea is original and if a thought held dear is closer to the truth than reality. For a second, you wonder if it’s the actress or Kaufman talking. That aside, there is a swinging mystery between specificity and uncertainty. Mental queries like those eventually lead to repeated decision point statements that match this movie’s title. Leaving Jake becomes a constant “one question to answer” of nominal importance. 

Breaking his extended sympathy against her indomitable ice while driving, Jake asks his distant girlfriend often “what are you thinking.” The replied answer is almost always a constructed emotional guard like “vague in-my-head stuff.” When those gloomy queries come over her, constant pivots of often contemptuous conversation between her and Jake seem to present themselves. It’s as if he knows the exact moments that titular notion has come to her mind and interjects on the need to rebound and save face. Unfortunately, the substance of those exchanges do not forge engagement. They are lost words for lost people. 

LESSON #4: END THINGS BEFORE THEY ESCALATE— Hot and cold, forwards and backwards, Kaufman’s film is an obstacle course of avoiding or confronting the anxiety and hurt feelings of a potential exit out of a failing romantic and emotional relationship. The woman doesn’t see a future with Jake, but here she is on this trip, in his childhood home, and weighing all the positive and negative traits of his “diligence”, as if that was his peak. Her grave monologues make that darker with statements on inevitable mortality and the invented hope to trudge and push against that finality. If your head and your heart are at that point with someone or something, get out before things get worse. Don’t even get in the car.

Still, the prospect of the approaching parents ahead holds interesting promise. All the while, I’m Thinking of Ending Things tracks a subplot of an lowly and lonely school janitor (Guy Boyd of Foxcatcher) working the night shift and eeking out a living. His nearly wordless spectre adds more lost words for more lost people.

LESSON #4: HAPPINESS IN A FAMILY IS AS NUANCED AS UNHAPPINESS— When the two arrive at a farm and meet his father and mother (a slack-jawed David Thewlis and every indie’s favorite twitchy sycophant Toni Collette), the personalities and the presences begin to veritably and metaphorically shift. An uncomfortably chatty dinner leads to mild rage and embarrassment in several places. Rooms, gestures, gazes, and exchanges of compliments carry morose mystery and shifts of time that throw our female protagonist and the viewer for a loop.

In this bottled middle act, I’m Thinking of Ending Things carries the hints and overtones of a creepy possible thriller happening before our eyes. Alas, the effect ends at hints. Ideas and implications are dangled and then vanish with little point or purpose. They are replaced with a semi-grandiose third act where showy happenstance presents the janitor crossing paths with our couple for encounters wildly out of causality with anything else before that point in the film.

Between the body language of discomfort and the spoken and unspoken speeches of disquiet, Jessie Buckley gives a fervent lead performance. She commits to all the nuance possible of the wavering confidence and the internal trap of depression to play this central character. Working parallel, Jesse Plemons doesn’t scale his partner role down as far into intentional blankness as his memorable Game Night role played for laughs a few years ago, but his walking void cannot keep up with Buckley’s overwrought hurdling. Even his most expressive acts and outbursts register so very little. 

Is there brilliance in the indecipherable within this adaptation of Iain Reed’s horror fiction? That’s both the knock and modus operandi of Charlie Kaufman. That’s where peculiarity pisses on a good piece of art. His abstract creations are wholly unique, yet aimless and tedious to the nth degree. For every poetic word, cinematic flourish, or striking idea that ignites a challenging neuron in I’m Thinking of Ending Things, a triple helping of something obscure destroys momentum and snuffs any flicker. When he’s right, lucidity outshines the oddity, but that is not this film. This is not the first, and certainly won’t be the last, Charlie Kaufman movie to collapse under a mountain of ostentation. We’re back to another beautiful mess.

LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#906)

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Owen Wilson to the Rescue!

A few weeks after Leonard Nimoy Professional Debacle 2.0 ended, Jodie called me.

Jodie: “I take it you’ve gotten over the Leonard Nimoy incident?”

Me: “Which one? And you would be wrong.”

Jodie: “I understand, but you have to make this situation right.”

Me: “And why is that?”

Jodie: “Because I have to provide the voice-over talent now, and I haven’t got anywhere near the contacts you have. You have to do this for me.”

Guilt doesn’t work on me. Usually. But Jodie Marko was and is one of the most hard-working and brilliant people I worked with in San Francisco, despite the fact that she was from Canada. She had done a lot for me and had always been a reliable colleague. Doing something for her is a legitimate ask on her part.

Me: “Any suggestions? Other than Leonard Nimoy?”

Jodie: “Yes. Didn’t you help get Vince Vaughan’s movie, The Internship, onto the Google campus?”

Me: “Yes. His producer, Sandra Smith, is a friend of a friend. I made the introductions, but make no mistake, she did the heavy lifting.”

Jodie: “You always say that, and it’s not true.”

Me: “Sure it is. I have no marketable skills. I don’t actually do anything. I just know lots of people who have marketable skills and actually do things. That’s all. Maybe that’s what producing is. If that’s the case, that is kind of depressing, don’t you think?”

Jodie sighed.

Me: “Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll stop. What’s your idea?”

Jodie: “Owen Wilson.”

Me: “Let me unpack this for you, you conniving little twerp. You want me to call in a favor from a woman that I know via a friend of mine, to bail out The Stupid Museum People?”

Jodie: “If you’re going to put it that way.”

Me: “How else should I put it? They blew a huge opportunity to work with a man synonymous with science. No knock on Owen, who was lovely to work with on the movie, but Leonard Nimoy was, oh, how can I say this? Perfect?”

Jodie: “I know. But will you talk to Sandra?”

Me: “For you, yes, but I don’t want anyone from The Stupid Museum People involved in the negotiation. This is you and me, and you don’t know I’m doing this. Got it?”

Jodie: “Yes.”

****

Sandra Smith, Vince Vaughan's producer at Wild West Picture Show Productions and a total babe, accommodated my request to submit the script to Owen Wilson, who liked it enough to agree to let his voice be used for the video. In order to record, though, we would have to go to him during the filming of the location work on The Internship.

And, of course, the location where he could do the voice-over? The Marin Headlands. Not hard to get to, but the scheduling issue had to do with Owen being able to carve out an hour to read the script, a five minute snoozer about the birth of the universe. 

The deal broke down to Sandra’s assistant, Amy calling me and giving me a couple hours to get over the Headlands with my sound engineer. What time and what day? Anyone’s guess. The production would be there for about a week. I waited. And waited. And waited.

And of course my phone rang the day before I scheduled a trip back to clean out my parent’s house in the over-55 community where my father had spent his last days and from which my mother had recently moved. 

Amy: “George, tomorrow afternoon at 3pm is the only day and time that will work for Owen. And even then I’ll have to call you to confirm in the late morning.”

Me: “That’s fine. I’ll call you when I get there with my sound engineer. Would you object to Jodie Marko, my co-producer coming with me?”

Amy: “Not at all. But text me when you arrive. If I get one more phone call.”

Me: “I understand.”

I called Jodie to give her a heads up.

Jodie: “I can go!? Really!?”

She paused.

Jodie: “The director is going to want to go.”

Me: “Is that right? Some corporate video director with a list of credits as long as a nose hair is going to direct Owen Wilson’s reading of some insomnia-curing copy? I don’t think so. You’re lucky I got you in there. Nobody else.”

Jodie: “He’s not going to be happy about this.”

Me: “Oh well, then by all means. I wouldn’t want someone to be unhappy on one of my jobs.”

Jodie: “Point taken.”

Me: “Oh, and I have to change my flight back to New Jersey. The production company is picking up the tab.”

Jodie: “I’ll submit an expense report. Just don’t upgrade yourself.”

Me: “Count on it.”

****

Next day found Jodie, me, and Ted Ver Valen, fab sound recordist, in the crew parking lot of The Internship at the base of the Marin Headlands. Windy. Cold. Overcast. I texted Amy who turned us over to Owen’s personal assistant, a jittery young man who could not have been nicer. He led us to Owen’s trailer, introduced us to his boss, and then left us alone. We set up quickly as Owen sat down in a chair and reviewed the copy once more with Jodie, who just would not shut up.

Jodie: “This is so great. Thank you for doing this. I hear you’re from Texas. I hear your mother is from Texas. That makes sense. You know, both of you being from the same state. That would be odd if you weren’t.”

Me: “Jodie.”

Jodie: “Odd’s not the right word. I’m sure there are people from the same family who live in different states. So, maybe not so odd? I don’t know. How are you? Do you have any questions? I like the script. Do you like it?”

Me: “Jodie.”

She managed to compose herself and Owen read through the script. There’s something about professional actors. Something they’ve got that the next level down of what might be referred to as somewhat talented and very hard working just don’t have. I listened to him read it and knew he had saved the copy.

The script was a safe, corporate attempt at describing the birth of the universe. Had anyone else read it, you’d nod off in about a minute. I listened to the full five minutes of Owen’s read and knew how the universe was born and why.

Owen: “How is that?”

Me: “Only outstanding.”

Owen: “Why don’t I read it through again in pieces. I’ll start and stop every half page or so.”

Jodie: “That’s a really good idea. Don’t you think? Start and stop. Read it in chunks. Is that how they do that in Texas? If so, that’s really smart. Is everyone in Texas really smart? If not, they should be.”

Me: “Jodie.”

Owen read through it again. I still have the memory card with the original recording.

****

Of the many pet peeves I developed regarding the film industry, my favorite is a riff on the “Let no good deed go unpunished.” This particular job for The Stupid Museum People had this in spades. And since it happened towards the tail end of my career, I, obviously didn’t hesitate to call the ungrateful on their various character flaws.

In addition to embarrassing myself during the second failed Leonard Nimoy attempt, not only did I score Owen Wilson to voice the opening video, but I also found more than 30 minutes of finished 3D animation of artists renderings of the universe and its beginnings. I also convinced some Unabomber type time-lapse expert to sell us three shots of his night sky work for the price of one. 

To follow are the total number of thank yous I received from the director, who would have to have used hand-puppets for his Birth of the Universe video had it not been for Yours truly:

ZERO.

What did I get? I got the following email when the director received the raw takes of Owen Wilson’s brilliant read.

To: George Young  

From: Herr Director

Re: Owen Wilson V.O. for The Birth of the Universe

Hey George;Listened to the Owen Wilson voice-over. I should have been included in the recording since there are different ways I would have had him read certain parts of the script.

Is there a reason I was not scheduled as part of the team?

Herr Director

****

I’d gotten to the age where I waited until I responded to emails such as this. Obviously, in one of  her few lapses, Jodie had not called Herr Director to explain to him why we couldn’t cram one more body into Owen Wilson’s trailer. Remember, I was no longer, technically, on the project.

To: Herr Director 

 From: George Young

Re:Re: Owen Wilson V.O. for The Birth of the Universe

Herr Director;

Why you’re welcome! Glad you liked the tracks, and the scoring of a Hollywood Star for this little POS video. And your continued gratitude for the 3D animation freebies, the recently released Hubble Telescope photography, and the three for the price of one time-lapse photos, is just overwhelming. It makes all the grief I normally get from narcissistic, ungrateful, self-centered jerks fade in oblivion. Good luck with the edit. Given what you have to work with, I’m sure that even a one of those narcissistic, ungrateful, self-centered jerks of a director couldn’t screw it up.

George

****

A few weeks later, after I returned from cleaning out my parent’s house, Jodie called to fill me in on just how much my response had bent Herr Director out of shape. 

Me: “A simple thank you would have been nice. The guy writes a substitute for Sominex. Owen throws a 10,000 Volt charge into it, and I’m the bad guy? How does that work?”

Jodie: “He felt left out.”

Me: “That’s because we left him out. This wasn’t the type of situation where we schedule an hour at One Union Recording and put Owen Wilson in a cab. We’re lucky we got him. You’re lucky you got me to get him, because after that Leonard Nimoy fiasco, I should not have done anything to help the project. I did it for you, as you requested.”

Jodie: “I get it. But now I have to listen to him for the rest of the project.”

Me: “Jodie, just do what I do.”

Jodie: “Not a chance. I still have to work with the guy.”

Me: “What if I apologized?”

Jodie noticeably brightened her tone.

Jodie: “You would do that?”

Me: “Sure would. Just as soon as the ungrateful jerk thanks me for turning his unwatchable video into something worthwhile.”

Jodie: “That’s a long way of saying ‘No.’”

Me: “Yes.”

[subtletie]

moon: what is your astrological sign? - Aquarius Sun, Taurus Moon. Wouldn’t seem like it, since T moons are generally known for emotional stability while I am quite the opposite. This is likely due to my other, more problematic aspects coming into play. gingerbread: your moral alignment - Neutral. I have no significant inclinations towards good or evil. I am generally passive, though I will, more often than not, prefer to benefit myself at the expense of others when I gather the courage to do so. birdseed: family or friends? Neither, I tend to abhor both. On the odd occasion, I feel grandiose love and affection for some of them, but more often than not, it tends to fade back into resentment. sheets: your sexual orientation Mostly straight, though I appreciate beauty in every gender. I’m female, and I am (unfortunately) attracted to males (considering how awful they can be). warm milk: when do you usually fall asleep? Depends. If I’m exhausted, it can be as early as 7 pm, but usually no later than midnight. pot of honey: your gender identity. Cisgender Female. snow: what is your favorite time of year and why? I don’t think I have a favorite time of year anymore. I used to love the fall and Halloween. yarn: what are your most enjoyable hobbies? I don’t particularly enjoy much nowadays. If you count binge-eating as an enjoyable activity for a fraction of the time, I guess that would be it. bicycle: what are you talented at? Nothing in particular. Forcing myself to be academically responsible, perhaps, although my intellect has dulled greatly in the past few years. folktale: what stories remind you of your childhood? I would read plenty of fairytales as a child. There will always be a place in my heart for the Warrior Cats Series and some Disney. woods: where do you feel at peace? Like the name of this very prompt, the woods truly do make me feel at ease. Beautiful places generally produce a calming effect within me. chicken feet: what is your emotional “flaw”? I have many. Notoriously, I cannot repress negative thoughts or emotions all that well. If I feel sad, angry or hurt I let it be known. I can (rarely) go off on the person who hurt me, or let it all spill while talking to someone. I also react angrily towards the people who surround me. Dark emotions tend to eat me up inside and it burns to keep them there. This is likely a byproduct of repressing emotions throughout my younger years, which gradually lead me to become depressed. Due to the fact that I don’t want to be as sad as I used to be, I feel the need to let my demons escape through speech and writing. red cheeks: what makes you nervous? Many, many things. I am quite easily disturbed in terms of nervousness or anxiety. Speaking to someone new, eye contact with someone I am not comfortable with, talking about certain subjects, when someone notices that I become nervous or am acting strangely because I am anxious, feeling judged, etc. sunflower: what do you love and cherish? I don’t think I truly love anything. My feelings of “love” tend to be intermittent and obsessive. Let’s say, food during binges, liking someone new only for that feeling to falter as soon as they do something “wrong”, that feeling when I look at my body after slimming down, myself when I think I look pretty, and the list goes on. Perhaps my laptop would be the sole exception to this rule, as I appreciate it more so than any other living thing. bells: what sounds are your favorite or calm you the most? Rainfall, without a doubt. The Cello fragment in one of my favorite songs, Midnight in a Perfect World, though I’m not sure if I should count this in, since it makes me feel rather nostalgic, above all things. turnip: what is a food you could eat everyday? So many things. Mostly Italian food though, it’s amazing. spit: do you get jealous easily? Yes. mushroom: list unique things you like about yourself. On those rare days in which I have the audacity to be vain: I like my long, curled eyelashes, my softly chiseled cupid’s bow, the golden flecks which dapple my otherwise ordinary brown eyes, my soft porcelain skin when it’s not scratched and damaged, the dimples beneath my ass,  the delicate collarbones and the curve of my waist. I seem to love a lot about myself despite loathing my appearance the vast majority of the time. cupboard: a good childhood memory eyebags: what do you think makes a person attractive? Physically, Mentally or Emotionally? These are the major aspects I take into account for attractiveness. Physically, I can be flexible, I can overlook this aspect when someone is incredibly attractive, both mentally and emotionally. I like traditionally masculine features, strong jawline, chiseled cheekbones, but I can appreciate a softer appearance as well. Mostly, the eyes do it for me. I love people with an intense, emotional gaze. I like lightly muscular bodies or those on the slimmer side. I prefer people who are at least 4 inches taller than me (I’m 5′3), they make me feel safer for some reason. I prefer shorter hair over longer, and I tend to appreciate formal attire over casual, too. I have a bit of an aversion towards reddish hair, though I could definitely get over this. (I used to like someone who had ginger hair and things didn’t end well). Mentally, someone who is inquisitive and thoughtful. Someone who knows when to pay attention to detail, is mature, level-headed, perceptive, passionate, assertive, patient, sweet and understanding. Preferably, someone who brings out the best in me. Emotionally, they should be kind, gentle, a balance between sentimentality and sobriety. A person who knows how to both support and motivate others and isn’t afraid to say what they’re feeling.                                                                                  fallen log: something you’ve gotten over that you never thought you would. I’ve never gotten over anything. Any trauma that has ever made its way into my life still churns within, gradually corroding my insides. Physically? I don’t know if I would say I never thought I’d heal, but I feared I’d never recover when I had Tuberculosis.                                                                                                    dagger: your worst fear I’ve always felt it’s “bad luck” to talk about your worst fear. Mentioning it helps it materialize, and therefore, more likely to occur. whisper: do you have any secrets? Well, I used to masturbate tons before I got a UTI which pretty much wrecked me, since it hit me while I had a weakened immune system due to my being underweight. I masturbated thinking of a guy I really liked who I also remain somewhat close to.                                            wild boar: which person do you feel closest to? I would have to say my mother. There is too much she doesn’t understand or care about, so I can’t truly say that she and I are truly close. I tell her a lot, mostly because I have nobody else to, but she is like a child in may ways and this frustrates me. Ideally, I would want to be closest to someone who could provide me with levelheaded insight about how to become a better person and how to deal with the more difficult aspects of life.

sweet: what candies or cakes are you fond of? I love, love, love apple pie. Chocolate fudge brownies are also amazing. footprints: do you remember your past lives? I don’t think I believe in past lives. If I did have one, however, I was likely an unfulfilled, unhappy soul just like I am now. Something tells me the person that I used to be was even more wretched than the one I am now. fur: name an animal you feel connected to. None at the time. Ages ago, I felt a connection to Tigers, but it’s all a farce. Allow me to explain. My concept of what a Tiger represents relates to everything that I wish I was, rather than what I truly am. I doubt this could be called a connection, but it’s the best I’ve got. In my mind, a Tiger would be powerful, leader like, assertive, confident, charismatic and bold. I am weakened, passive, lacking both passion and focus, preferring to revel in thought rather than action, insecure and absolutely self defeating. vodka: do you drink? No. I have an addictive personality, I’m afraid I’ll end up adding another self-destructive habit to my current repertoire. sour cherry: an obscure tradition from your family? None that I know of. pine needles: what is your favorite scent? I have a few. Lavender, roses and vanilla, just to name some of them. heart-shaped: do you believe in love? are you in love? I believe that love is fleeting. I’m talking about romantic love, when everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. I do not know whether or not I am truly capable of feeling love, though I do believe that other people might. My feelings of “love” are dauntingly obsessive, based on the perpetual idealization of the object of my affection. Needless to say, this is an undeniably unhealthy way to feel this “love” which is spoken of. In its better form, love can mean caring for someone even more than you care about yourself, wanting and supporting their wellbeing, teamwork, solidarity, intimacy, and making each other better people all around. A true balance would be the perfect love in my eyes. This is when two people complement each other, counteracting each others’ weaknesses and building up strengths. I was in “love” (read: obsessive idealization) with a “friend” a while ago. He does NOT feel the same way, this I know and I thought we could get along without there being any kind of romantic involvement. Boy, was I wrong. I started to feel things for him after us not talking for quite some time. He also has a girlfriend and I absolutely do not want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me, and me only. I also wouldn’t feel at ease with myself knowing I helped rupture a relationship. It’s complicated and I’ve decided not to speak to him anymore. home: where do you dream of living? In a beautiful little town, within a one-story home that is both quaint and spacious with a feline friend or two. The walls are made of wood and sunlight flows in mingled with fresh air each morning. There’s an ocean view from my bedroom window and I don’t have to drive any sort of vehicle to move about. Alternatively, I could live in a bustling city in a medium sized apartment within a building with gorgeously traditional design. The city I live in is culturally rich, dappled with lovely little cafes all over. It’s a place where I can take nightly walks while feeling safe and where I never run out of things to discover and explore. I can visit museums and watch musicals tirelessly. I can work up the courage to talk to strangers every once in a while, making friends here and there. I can waste my endless supply of time whilst losing myself inside of labyrinthine little bookstores. spice: list your favorite herbs I don’t know, don’t think I’ve got any that are explicitly favorites. mud: something you’re insecure about but trying to love. My breasts, since they’re quite small. The fact that my legs are thick, despite the me being relatively slim. tobacco: do you have any addictions? Binge eating. sock: how would you describe your clothing taste? Mostly feminine, but casual. cuckoo clock: are you a morning, a noon, or an evening person? I used to be a morning person, evening now. wooden fence: a favorite memory. Going to the beach with my parents after school back when I was in elementary. I remember wearing my uniform and pulling up my pants so that I could play in the ocean waves. As dying sunlight stroked my face a salty breeze would tousle my gold flecked hair. The ocean waves were crisply cold and shallow as a stark contrast to idyllic warmth of that afternoon. My dad would smile and play with me along the shore while my mother sat by and watched us rejoice from afar.

Writing this really helped clear my head. March 24th, 2018.