#voices of my solitude

[softhe4rted]

on loneliness jenny slate / japanese breakfast, posing for cars / corinne von lebusa, big glow / dadushin / alejandra pizarnik, tr. me / fka twings, home with you / avocado_ibuprofen / fiona apple, left alone / anne carson, “the anthropology of water”, plainwater / kiki smith, free fall / alejandra pizarnik, diaries

[swampybogg]

[solitairefrom-blocktales]

' hi, solitude.. just checking in-- are you doing alright?.. '

[ DONT MIND THAT IM NOT ON ANON . IT DONT LET ME SEND IMAGES ON ANON!! RAGE!! /ooc ] - @fearfulpurple

I'm...doing okay I think...

Oh, Greed was here, too.... earlier...

...I wonder if they're still here...

...lots of things here today...

...did you... come over for anything...?

[meownotgood]

also I'll keep my thoughts about this in the tags, don't look if you don't want any leaked information, but the video of viktor's chinese voice actor.... have any of you seen it......... because.......

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2023. ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE by Gabriel García Márquez.

Currently reading! This has been languishing on the TBR for a While™ and came highly recommended by a bookstore coworker. I'm only a couple chapters in, so far, and the family tree is ~Messy~, but the prose is lyrical and lovely!

[esuemmanuel]

Qué bella te vuelves cuando haces beber a mis ojos del carmesí de tu tinta y tu querer… Me subyugas con tu lira, preciosa mujer… Y es que escribes, y me deshago, devolviéndome como ortiga que flota en el viento al cielo del cual he bajado, sólo por ser testigo de tu canto y de esa voz dadivosa que me dice tanto. ¡Escribe, mujer de tinta, que te estoy escuchando! Y mi corazón se colma de un sentimiento sagrado que lleva las letras de tu nombre con las del mío a su lado.

How beautiful you become when you make my eyes drink the crimson of your ink and your love... You subjugate me with your lyre, precious woman... And you write, and I fall apart, returning like a nettle floating in the wind to the sky from which I have descended, just to witness your song and that generous voice that tells me so much. Write, woman of ink, I am listening to you! And my heart is filled with a sacred feeling that carries the letters of your name with the letters of mine beside it.

[stillwithmeisonlyyou]

What do y'all know about solitude, the unreleased evanescence song?

Like almost all of my handles' names is this song because one night at high school when I heard this song for the first time I was like "yes that is it this is the best song ever" And changed all of my usernames cuz I thought that was way cooler than anything with my real name anyway (which I still kinda do hence the handles)

(Also my name here now is just the continuation of the lyrics since I don't want people to find me- tumblr is my sacred haven and I sortta want plausible deniability)

Anyway story aside, unreleased evanescence is just one of my fav genre ever. I still very much like this song along with exodus, away from me, understanding, where will you go (also this is my ringtone rn) , also like many of their demos (and honestly I love almost anything that they do but im trynna keep it short for reccomendations' sake)

(These do not exist on spotify, not even as a podcast episode which made me strongly consider starting my own podcast)

[tespianmage]

Back in January I had surgery done that took away both my tonsils and my uvula. I'm still in mourning about my uvula so I'm making it Tessie's problem too to cope. Have fun never being able to roll your Rs or trill again, you crackhead magnet

[pepprs]

ok so. today i am going to

fly (and travel at all) by myself for the first time since making the emergency return home from br!ghton bc of c0vid 4 years ago (extremely distressing and scary experience). and fly by myself two weeks after a mixed bag of a conference experience / plane ride home that included a massive scary depressive spiral that i had someone there to help me through as much as they could but it wasn’t enough which was absolutely not their fault but was deeply distressing to me at the time. so im about to be in a very similar environment but this time that person won’t be physically with me and it’s going to wreck my brain in multiple directions in part bc i have not yet recovered from the depressive spiral. i am still in it. lawl <3

ride in an uber by myself for the first time. ride in an uber at all for maybe the 5th time. as a very short young woman. which i have been expressedly warned by my parents not to do. lol <3

check into a hotel by myself for the first time

walk in a big city by myself for the first time (technically slightly untrue bc wjen i was last in ch!cago 5 years ago i did power walk from the hotel to the conference venue (like a block away) on the last day bc i was pissed about a situation but that was like… a block and i saw ppl i knew walking in that area. this time i will be in the same city and know no one at least for today

give myself a self care evening at the recommendation of my therapist…. for the first time. (maybe after i take a walk which i will do specifically when it’s still light out to see what the area is like). tonight no one i know will be in ch!cago yet and i have no plans to do anything. im going to play video games and draw and sing and give myself space and time to just enjoy being by myself and see how it goes

[mars-ipan]

i think part of why i love tsp is i love horror but hate threats

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

Eternal Diva Fic (Part 7)

Another breather-ish chapter today. I had a lot of fun with the exchanges here because these are wholly unique. Also some Big Thinking.

Trigger warnings for mentions of implied falls to death (it's finally said here that they're fine), mentions of an explosion (which didn't hurt anyone), and threats of harm (the one saying them doesn't do anything and they apologize; they're referring to a third party who does not show in this story at all).

Also vague spoilers for Azran Legacy here? They're really vague, but I love the idea of dropping hints of stuff to come.

Word count: 1.7k / Previous / Next

After reaching the castle, dodging guards, and a lot of wandering through random halls, I found myself in a cozy bedroom.  It was decorated with a large bed, some tables and chairs, a couple dressers, and a piano.  There was even a large patio to watch the sea.  

All the usual things you'd find in a bedroom.  

But the thing that caught my eye the most were the framed pictures.  All of them had a sandy blonde girl at various ages.  And I felt like I recognized her from somewhere.

I pulled out the little book talking about the opera and the performers and opened it up.

Right there, the opera writer’s dedication: I dedicate this opera to my memory of my daughter, Melina.

She was Mr. Whistler's daughter.  So this must've been her bedroom.  Was this like a summer home for her then?

I went over to the piano on a whim.  There was a picture of Melina and Janice together.  It did seem like they were friends from how Janice and Mr. Whistler spoke to each other.

But there was also a piece of sheet music on the piano's tray.  “A Song of the Sea,” it was called.

A Song of the Sea… a song on the seal…  I pulled out my drawn music sheet.  Maybe this was all a giant coincidence.  But it seemed more likely that these were all connected somehow.

“…I hope my music teacher can forgive me for how this is going to sound.”

I started with A Song of the Sea.  Surprisingly, the muscle memory came back pretty quick, and it started to sound like a song.  Very pretty.  I didn't quite get how it was a song of the sea specifically, but I decided that shouldn't be the thing I should dwell on.

Then I tried the song I had made from the stars.

Then I hummed the Song of the Sea while I played the song from the stars. 

It came to me like a jolt of electricity.  They were all connected.  But how?  And why?

I felt the wind blow on my back.  I whipped my head around just in time to see a man in a cape, a pointy hat and white mask throw open the curtains of the patio dramatically.

It all came crashing back: the confrontation in Misthallery with his giant digger robot.  The cold, calculated confidence… barely even a thought of mercy toward the professor and his friends… it rooted me to the spot.

"Descole..."

"Hello Miss Clare," he greeted coolly. "It's so nice to finally talk face to face without that pesky professor and his posse."

He started to approach, and I gripped the piano, some of the keys making a discordant chord.  But still, I tried to look tough and not like I was one second away from bolting out of the room.

Even with the mask obscuring them, he looked me straight in the eyes. "Well?  You must have questions for me.  You sounded so confident earlier during our little tête-à-tête on the radio.  What's happened?"

Ohhh, the smugness in his voice made my blood boil.  But my voice wouldn't let me say anything.  I just glared at him.

He went from smug to... contemplative. "...A song with no rhymes, but still harmonious," he said quietly. "A painting that needs a strange angle to see its true beauty.  A poem full of subtleties that one would need a lifetime to understand.  That's what you are, dear.  You really do fascinate me, you know.  And this whole game has proven that in spades to me."

“.........What?  What are you talking about?” My face must've reflected how utterly baffled I felt because he smiled and snickered a bit.

“Good.  That knocked you out of that.”

Ah.  That was just to get me to talk. “Jerk,” I said a bit more forcefully than I intended.

“You're only saying that because you think I'm lying.  But I'll repeat myself: you must have questions.  About this island, about my involvement.  I'm an open book, if you'll just come with me dear.”

It really wasn't the open invitation he was making it out to be.  He probably knew this castle like the back of his hand, and he had goons all over the place.  He had me cornered, and he knew that extremely well.

“…Fine.  Lead the way Descole.”

“Marvelous.” He offered his arm to sling mine around, but I wholeheartedly rejected it.  Luckily, he only seemed amused. “There's that feistiness I remember from Misthallery.  Now, let's be on our way.”

~

I glared a hole in the back of Descole’s head as we walked.  Maybe he felt it after a while.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he commented.

Now that the fear was mostly gone, it was replaced with rage. “How… how do you live with yourself?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“All those people on the Crown Patone is what I mean!!” I yelled. “All those people who didn’t win the game!  You dropped them down into trap doors to die!  You blew up the entire ship!”

“...Oh dear, you really believed that.”

“What?”

“Sweet girl, I assure you no one was harmed during that little game.  That’s all it was: a game.  Everyone who lost was sent back to the mainland on a submarine.  They must have made a whole ruckus on it by now.”

“But… the timer and the--”

“Well, of course I had to time you.  It was a competition; we can’t have everyone winning.  And the puzzles would be much too easy to solve with unlimited time.”

“But-- But-- But all those tickets!”

“That was just a bit of fun on my end.  If I was going to sit through that dreadful opera all those times, I’d get to do something amusing with it.  And building all these contraptions does get awfully expensive.”

“THE SHIP BLOWING UP??”

“What?  Am I not allowed to add a little… What do you Americans call it?  'Pizzazz'?” I glared at him with added venom. “You don’t believe me.  Fine.  A moment, please.”

He snapped his fingers and one of his henchmen handed him a bulky little box with a screen in front.  It looked like a makeshift TV.  Descole pressed a few buttons, and then flipped the screen so that I could see it.

It was turned on to a news report.

“And we have some breaking news.  Early this morning, a submarine came ashore bearing the members of the missing audience members from the Crown Petone, the theatre that vanished last night.  Singer Janice Quatlane and composer Oswald Whistler are amongst those still missing.  Survivors are reporting that they were all part of a bizarre game that had promised them eternal life.  Search parties in the area are attempting to find the other missing people.  We shall keep you posted on any developments as and when they happen.”

Beep. The device shut off.

“Like I said, the news had a riot with this story.  That was the report from just this morning.”

…No matter how I approached it, I just couldn’t see a way that Descole could’ve faked a whole news report.  I just had to take his word for it.

The masked man put the TV down for one of his minions to pick up later. “Now really, let’s get moving.  We don’t have the day to dally around.”

“...What do you really want here?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Does it have something to do with Ambrosia?” 

He actually stopped with that question.  He turned around, and-- though the mask obscured it-- he gave me a hard look.  It seemed like I hit the nail on the head.  I pressed my luck. 

“I mean… You were after an ancient Golden Garden in Misthallery.  And now you’re on a deserted island where this ancient kingdom was.  What are you looking for in these places?  What’s so special about—”

“Stop asking questions.” Descole’s voice came out jagged and harsh, and he glared at me.  I froze and swallowed a bit.  After that though, the masked man let out a deep sigh.  

“You don’t know the Pandora’s box that you risk opening with your inquiries.  There are people out there who will see your good and curious nature and you puzzling over these things, and turn you to minced meat.  If you think I’m bad dear… they are worse.  Much worse.”

A cold-- no, frigid feeling started to seep into my bones. “Are… Are you with those people?”

I caught a brief glimpse of his eye under his mask.  It was filled with rage, white-hot like a fire.  But it disappeared right back into the shadow the mask provided. “No.  I’m not.  I’m against them.”

“Wh-What do they want?”

“...The less you know about them, the better.”

It was only then I felt my knees wobbling.  That left me with way more questions than answers.  But the answers I did get went deeper than I ever could’ve imagined.  

Descole wasn’t just looking for these landmarks of ancient civilizations for profit or fun; it was to stop someone else from getting to them.  Someone worse than he was.

Was the floor always shaking like that?  I felt weak and even a little sick.  I felt--

Something soft was draped over me, and that partially snapped me out of myself.  Descole was right by my side, gently covering my hands with his own.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to frighten you, truly.” His voice was much gentler now, softer than I had ever heard it.  He almost sounded like a completely different person. “I’ve just seen them in action too many times.  I know what they are and how they accomplish their goals.  Just… focus on something.  Anything at all, and focus on that only.”

Maybe because he was the one talking, I looked at him.  Ultimately, I focused on the brim of his hat and the curves, plateaus, etc.  He seemed a bit ruffled by that, but he didn’t say anything.  After a little while of that…

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Y-Yeah.  I’m ok.”

“Good, good.  Excellent.  I’d hate for something to happen to you.  I… enjoy your company.  Immensely.”  We both resumed walking, Descole still staying close. “...I don’t want you caught up in my fight.  It’s… extremely personal.  It’s something I must settle with them on my own.”

“...Sorry for asking about all that,” I mumbled.

“You didn’t know.  You were frustrated and wanted answers.  I would be just as annoyed were I in your shoes.  You don’t need to apologize; I’m not angry with you.  …But thank you.”

[orcelito]

Great to know my mind can still break by someone standing a Little too close to me for a Little too long

[erinmccomics]

Not to brag but my cats are Artists™

[Medium: Claws on rainbow scratchboard]

Remi works with a hesitant, erratic violence, creating a piece as light and fluffy as she is, and signing her work by hole-punching it with her teeth.

Timmy uses bold, strong lines to evoke some kind of powerful event, echoing his powerful presence and loud voice.

Nubbins, truly inspired, creates a high-energy piece that symbolizes the void where his brain should be, surrounded by chaos and mischief.

Kona, a reclusive avante garde artist, refused to work with me around. Only in quiet solitude did she create this haunting, introspective work.

[lntrusiveknock]

did i normalize my insanity or do i just find that when im alone is when we become most truthful and honest,, and i find that insanity is not so insane really i like solitude

[esuemmanuel]

No escribo para traer la realidad a la postre de mi puerta… lo hago para hacer venir al Diablo y tome de mis manos la sangre que Su boca anhela.

I do not write to bring reality to my doorstep... I do it to make the Devil come and take from my hands the blood that His mouth craves.