#wish i could get everyone ive ever met to forget about my existance and then just.

[fritzllang]

got charged 77£ at the airport bc I accidentally booked the wrong size luggage and then got a message telling me a did a poor job at my last work and now I'm having a nervous breakdown on the gate to the plane and everyone is looking at me bc I can't stop crying. 👌

[scoupsahoy]

it's 5am and im up for no reason time for everyones favorite segment: ryan's bad opinion corner

todays episode: stranger things fandom and ficdom pet peeves and things i find silly

disclaimer: it's 5am i'm grumpy and none of these things are worth getting angry about. i don't actually get mad at people who do this stuff or write these things. in fact i love torturing myself but more than that i like to read and sometimes people take these things and make it fun or dramatic and i love drama. most of these are just silly little things. we all have them snd i know for a fact that some people's pet peeve is just like. everything ive ever written

people who can't talk about mike wheeler without making it obvious how much they hate him irrationally. especially in fic. why are you making him so antagonistic towards everyone he is so desperate to be liked. have u seen that kid. have u watched the last four seasons of stranger things

people who can't be normal about billy. real bad opinion corner type shit but like. i wish people could write or talk about him without either excusing how shitty he is OR absolving him of all that. if you make him a cartoon villain you're kind of diminishing how fucked up and racist he was in canon, like that isn't enough to make him a shitty guy and an antagonist on his own. let people explore his character without forcing them to pick between "needs to be tortured to death for his crimes on screen Or Else you're a billy apologist" and "needs to be forgiven by everyone and kiss steve at the end"

not a pet peeve just kind of a thing that makes me tilt my head a bit bc i think it's kind of silly. future fics where dustin and suzie get married... like they met before high school i love suzie so bad but like what is the chance that every single one of the kids in the show is going to be with their middle school sweetheart their entire lives. this opinion does not extend to lucas and max i hope they get married.

when people imply that eddie or robin are biphobic. biphobia exists and is complicated and can be explored in fic or whatever but when i see gay characters who are massively biphobic and only the gay characters who are massively biphobic it sure rubs me the wrong way. gay people are not biphobic by default. ESPECIALLY IF ITS LIKE

fic where steve is literally fucking eddie and eddie's like "man i cant believe hes fucking me and he's straight and doesn't like men at all" like thats not even biphobic at that point like eddie you need to be punched in the head with a blunt object you are just stupid and not in a cute way. i can't read several thousand words of that. no one would act like that even if they were biphobic

when nancy isn't annoying. make her annoying. make her abrasive and judgmental and kind of mean. but also like. don't forget that she's like very smart and helpful and caring and full of guilt and love. you think she can't be good and amazing and also a bitch? god forbid women do anything.

******* just in general but i don't want to be crucified ive already made two deeply inflammatory statements

when people don't love lucas enough. love him more. you are silly.

when you're mad about popular fanon and write an angry fic basically using the characters to make your point for you. and i totally get it. if u hate that trope u can also say hit da bricks. but i can tell how pissed off u were about this while writing and it does not make me agree with u more. in fact it's an interesting enough thought experiment that it can stand on its own and having the argument in the fic where you're basically mad at the fandom makes me less inclined to agree with you or want to keep reading. this is mainly because fic is something that is enjoyable to me when it's written out of love for an idea rather than frustration. you can always tell when the writer is annoyed and it makes it wayyy less enjoyable to read

i feel like that last one was kinda mean (or it was before i took out the particular context bc even though it's unlikely anyone will read this i dont want the person who wrote the thing im talking about to catch wind of it) so im going back to sleep i love you

last one

people who go out of their way to tell an author that their headcanon is unrealistic or their writing pisses them off or they didn't like how something played out or how someone was characterized. get over it please if you didn't like it, it wasn't for you. complain to your friends if you must, not the artist. don't make people feel like shit i'll cut off the roof of your house like wile e coyote and i AM serious about this one

[puddingheads]

Eternity || Nishinoya Yuu.

In which the small things stay with you, forever.

Warnings: Fluff with slight angst, post time skip spoilers

Word count: ~2.4k

Note: I'm finally writing a fluff fic, but I can't seem to tear myself away from angst. It's extremely minimal here though, and there's a good ending! Special thanks to @rollinguuuthunda for inspiring me to write this (since you rEFUSE to read my angst fics >:()!! And yes, I’m bullying Noya in the summary since he’s shorter than me.

—

i.

“Nishinoya, you got hurt again?” You nagged, firmly tugging at his arms to reveal the bruises littered on his skin. They were big and angry and purple; just the sight of them was enough to make you wince.

“They don’t hurt at all, they’re battle scars!” Nishinoya, ever so cheerful and optimistic, beamed brightly at you. In the two years of knowing him, you’d never seen him bothered by the countless injuries his position inflicted on him.

“Sit down,” settling on the floor cross legged, you patiently waited for him to heed your words. There was no room for disagreement, Nishinoya knew perfectly well that you took his well being very seriously.

He never really understood why, though. He never knew why you would grimace at the new bruises on his arms, or force him into his jacket after every match, or ask if he’d eaten his lunch every time you bumped into him in the halls. (Also, he never noticed how you always coincidentally had a protein bar with you when he would say no.)

“They really don’t hurt, I’m fine!” Nishinoya said, but still sat down despite the reluctance in his voice. Why did you always have ointment in your bag anyway? Compared to him, you barely ever got hurt.

“They will if the ball keeps hitting them,” You retort, huffing quietly while you rubbed the ointment onto the purple spots on his arm. “Stop resisting.”

For the first time, he decided to take notice of your knitted brows and slight pout. Why did you seem so upset? You weren’t the one getting hurt, he’d already assured you that he was fine, and you didn’t have to care so much about him. The subtle look of concern everyone else gave was already more than enough, why did you have to go the extra mile?

And for the first time, the dots in his head started to connect. Maybe, you were worried for him. Maybe, you hated to see him injured as much as he hated to see you frown. Maybe, you liked him as much as he liked you.

“Thanks,” Nishinoya mumbled, all his usual confidence replaced by demureness.

“You’re welcome,” your voice was as soothing as ever, the immense concentration in your eyes stirring something in his chest.

At that moment, everything disappeared. The ache in his thighs, the leftover adrenaline in his veins, the thumping of his heart; everything was drowned out by the featherlight touch of your fingers on his skin.

At that moment, the weight of his arm limp in your hand and the coolness of the ointment on your fingertips told of the trust he had in you. In the warmth of his skin against yours, you felt his new vow—”I’ll take better care of myself to not worry you.”

And at that moment, all he could feel was your fingers rubbing comforting circles on his arm and your silent plea—”I don’t want you to hurt, ever.”

ii.

After days and weeks and months of the push and pull game you had engaged Nishinoya in, he finally scored a date with you. It was in the middle of summer when you agreed to meet him at the park, where the summer festival was held.

Coincidentally, it was the day of the Star Festival, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all on purpose. Only Nishinoya would choose such a day, the only day Vega and Altair were allowed to meet, to be the day of your first date. (Well, if it was on purpose, you sure hoped that you’ll still see him the next day. You didn’t want the first date to be the last, after all.)

“Noya, you’re late,” you chastised, watching him jog over to you with a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Sorry,” he laughed, tugging you along to the stands. Immediately, you were swept up by his antics and found yourself having a blast. It was just like him to easily infect you with joy and laughter, just like him to make you forget all your worries.

Spending time with him always felt like a magic carpet ride, bringing you to new places you never knew existed and making you feel emotions you never knew you could feel. It was intoxicating, and soon you found yourself drunk off the dream-like atmosphere.

After hanging your slip of paper with your wish on the wish tree, you turned to Nishinoya. For a second, it felt like a scene from one of your many dreams was playing right before your eyes. His hands firmly pressed together in a fervent prayer for his wish to come true, his brows knitted in the concentration you only ever saw when he was on the court, his lips pursed in unspoken yearning.

Silently, you wondered what he was wishing so desperately for. What more could he ask for, if he already had everything? What could the wish tree bring that he couldn’t attain with his effort?

(He wanted a lot of things, and all of them were related to you.)

His eyes instantly met yours when they finally opened. As if his wish had already been granted, a brilliant smile spread across his face. He fidgeted a little, hands searching himself for an almost-forgotten gift.

“For you,” he beamed, holding out a single forget-me-not. Some of its petals had already fallen from being jostled around throughout the evening, yet it still stood tall and proud, all its yellow and blue on display.

Taking it graciously, you could barely find the words to express the loud drumming of your heart in your chest. Before you could embarrass yourself with a haphazard word of thanks, a gust of wind blew.

The swaying strips of paper on the tree behind Nishinoya painted a meteor shower around his silhouette, adorning his already ethereal form with an otherworldly halo. Along with the wind was the smell of your shampoo, and almost as if he were one of Pavlov’s dogs, his heart instantly started racing and the tension in his shoulders dissipated.

In the wind was you, and in his lungs was the final push for him to fall down the rabbit hole. In the familiar scent of you was your wordless gratitude—”You give me a reason to smile.”

And in the wind was him, and held tight in your hands was the embodiment of his adoration. Under the full moon and colourful lights of the festival, no words were needed. In the sweet scent of the forget-me-not was his shy confession—”You make my heart pound, yet put me at so much ease.”

iii.

“I’m home,” you called out just as you stepped into your apartment and met Nishinoya’s eyes. Instantly, you recognised the nervous glint in his eyes, one you only saw when he broke something after getting carried away with Tanaka. “What did you do now, Yuu?”

“It’s nothing bad!” He was quick to defend himself, even quicker to unload the bags from your tired arms. Ever since you started officially dating Nishinoya, him being in your house on the weekends became a common occurrence.

Following him into your usually pristine kitchen, shock smacked you over the top of your head and sent you stumbling. It was a disaster zone, the counters littered with broken eggs and flour, and a mountain of dirty bowls in the sink. The oven dinged, bringing your attention to a suspicious mound inside.

“Were you baking?” You frowned, examining the crinkled top of the cake.

“Well, it’s our anniversary, and you like cake,” Nishinoya mumbled, pointedly staring at his creation. It wasn’t that bad, but it definitely made you hesitate to have a taste. “It’s your favourite kind, I’m sure you’ll like it!”

In his childlike confidence, you found yourself sighing in defeat. There was no way you could refuse when he was looking at you with so much hope in his eyes.

“Looks like we have two cakes to eat then,” you smiled fondly at him, pulling out a small box from one of the bags you brought home. “I got a slice from the bakery down the street.”

“We must be telepathic!” He exclaimed, excitedly unboxing the store bought slice and setting it next to his home baked one. The stark difference in appearance and his unabashed pride in his cake was hilarious yet endearing.

Deciding not to judge a book by its cover, you coaxed yourself to taste a fallen piece from the fruit of Nishinoya’s labour. Simultaneously, Nishinoya took a bite of the cake you had bought.

In the sweetness of the frosting and the fluffiness of the sponge cake, all Nishinoya could taste was your bashful devotion—”I only want the best for you.”

And in the saltiness of the crumbly cake(he must’ve gotten the salt and sugar mixed up again), all you could taste was his bold resolve—”I’ll do anything for you.”

iv.

“I want to travel the world.” Your fingers that were deftly twirling his hair came to a stop at Nishinoya’s sudden declaration.

“Do you have the money to go?” You asked, mind starting to wander. You’d always known that Nishinoya was a bird meant to fly, always known that Japan was unable to contain his huge dreams, always known that he would jump at any opportunity to explore the unknown. Yet, hearing it outright caught you off guard and got you worrying.

He was still young, still inexperienced, still naive. You saw these as reasons he should stay, he saw them as reasons he should go; for you were careful and he was carefree.

“I have a plan.” He replied, resolution strong in his voice. The confidence he usually emitted was now unable to reassure you, unable to drive away the darkness called unease from your heart.

“How long will you be gone?” With all your being, you wished that he would laugh and tell you it was a joke, like he always did.

“As long as it takes,” shrugging, he shifted to meet your eyes. In the intensity of his gaze, you knew he wasn’t joking. He was dead serious about it, and nothing you said would make him stay.

It wasn’t the first time you heard about his dream of travelling the world and experiencing everything he could, it wasn’t the first time you felt this helpless, and it definitely wasn’t the first time you feared his departure.

Somewhere deep in your heart was fear—a lot of fear. You were afraid of holding him back, afraid of watching him leave and never return, afraid of being away from him. But the day when you had to stop running away from the fear was bound to come; it was inescapable.

“I’m not breaking up with you, of course,” as if he could hear your fears, he continued. “We’ll keep in contact. We may be physically apart, but I’ll never leave. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“We are.” You said, mustering all the conviction you could find. Whether it was to convince him or to convince yourself, you weren’t sure.

It took weeks of preparation and arrangements before Nishinoya was able to fly off. You had contemplated if you should send him off, since you were sure to break down in tears once he stepped through the departure gates, but decided to go to the airport anyway. All for seeing him just a little more.

“Wait for me, yeah?” Nishinoya muttered, face buried in your neck as he pulled you in a tight embrace. You hoped the strength in his grip wasn’t due to a hesitance at the last minute.

“I don’t know how I’ll do it without you,” you confessed, not realising the arrows your words pierced through his heart.

In your shaky voice and shallow breaths, he heard your reluctant promise—”No matter how long it takes, I’ll always be right there waiting for you.”

And in his rare moment of silence, you heard his wholehearted oath—”No matter how far I go, I’ll always come back to you.”

v.

Years had passed, both Nishinoya and you had grown more mature, more accustomed to only seeing each other once a year, more familiar with loneliness. But now, Nishinoya’s desire to explore has been satiated, and his journey around the globe has come to an end. He was back.

“Yuu!” The elation in your voice easily drowned out his calling of your name, earning a few glances from the passersby in the airport.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands and resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes and let out a content sigh. He immediately mirrored you, basking in your presence.

“I’m home,” Nishinoya whispered, pulling away.

“You’re home.” You reciprocated, taking all of him in. He was a little tanner than the previous time you saw him, his eyes a little brighter.

For the first time since you last saw him, everything felt right. With him back, a monotony you never noticed was relieved. With you back, a stability he had forgotten was restored. Being back together brought back memories of the past and gave hope for the future. To be a tad dramatic, you never felt quite as alive when he wasn’t by your side.

Just like the love stories and romance movies, everything around the both of you faded to nothingness. For a split second, it was just the two of you in the entire universe. For that split second, nothing else mattered, since you were with Nishinoya, and he wasn’t going anywhere else.

And in that split second, he decided that it was now or never.

Taking a step away, he fumbled for something in his pocket. As he sunk to one knee, realisation settled in your mind. Oh, oh.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Nishinoya declared, eyes glazed over and smile full of anticipation.

In the glittering diamond seated atop the silver band he held up, you saw his wish hung upon the wish tree—

And in the glimmering tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded your head yes, he saw your wish hung upon the wish tree—

“Stay with me, forever.”

—

[kkairosclerosis]

uncommon things i associate my deities with~

hi guys! im back from a quick hiatus! 

i recently moved to the city, but not too far from where i lived previously in the country. living in the city, however, is proving to be a bit more difficult then i had imagined, so ive been taking some weekends to go back home and ground myself again so i can feel more connected to my craft<3.

anyways, this morning, i was sitting on the porch of my parents farmhouse, looking out onto the sunset as my idiot dog ran laps around the frost-covered lawn, feeling more connected to my deities than i had in weeks. i decided, ‘hey, here a nice post idea. maybe ill talk abt the things i associate with my deities that others might not, and hopefully inspire them to as well!’ so, here it is! 

uncommon things i associate my deities with!

hermes——««

if this isnt your first time on my blog, you probably know: hermes is my patron. he has been for a while, even before i began to worship him. if you want to know more about why, check out this post. 

regardless, you can imagine that i hold very dear everything i associate with him.

in this case, it’s my dog. 

my dog is an...interesting border collie named oliver. i got into hellenic worship very shortly after getting him, and i have a very strong feeling he has a lot to do with it. 

i am thoroughly convinced my dog is a child of hermes. hes chaotic, but extremely smart. very, very fast, and spends hours running out in the yard. just running. nothing else. its even more intense when its windy, which, if you read the aforementioned post, you know that i associate the wind heavily with hermes. hermes is also the god of animal husbandry, and oliver is quite the farm animal. 

watching him run, i always get a strong sense of comfort. i know that the energy of hermes resides in him, its very clear. its almost as if his running brings the wind.  like hes running, and hermes says ‘hey, that looks fun! let me join!’ 

i, very regularly, ask for hermes protection of oliver. i do this because i know of the love hermes has for him. i can feel it. it makes me comfortable knowing hes safe while im not home with him. and i can tell it makes oliver feel safe as well.

aphrodite——««

aphrodite has always been dear to me, even before i started actually worshipping. i remember reading about her in the mythology books i frequented in the art room after i finished my projects, carrying them out to the field to just sit and read. she was an embodiment of beauty to me, and that has not changed since, so its natural that i associate her with one of the things i find most beautiful on this plane of existence: clouds.

when i was thinking of writing this post, i was sitting and looking at a cloudless sky. i was thinking: why is it that we most often consider a cloudless sky beautiful? is it because of the absence of ‘blemish?’ does a cloud signify a flaw? must all beautiful things be completely clear, or without mark? 

obviously, i thought this was ridiculous. clouds are so very dear to me. i mean, i have an entire album of photos on my phone of pictures of clouds i have taken. i have always been enamored. 

while i was pondering this, it hit me. beauty is unique. beauty is individual. thats exactly what aphrodite is about. these ‘marks’ in the sky are what make the sky beautiful to me. aphrodite is in these ‘blemishes’ because i find them beautiful. 

now, i dont mean to wrap this up in a corny way, but i encourage the people reading this to think this way about themselves. beauty is in your imperfections because they make you you. i have not seen one cloud that looks exactly like another i have seen, and thats exactly what makes them so beautiful to me. aphrodite loves all of you, and someone else does as well, so do not disrespect them by being mean to yourself. their idea of beauty is not misconstrued, so trust them. and if you dont think someone thinks your beautiful, know that i do<3.

apollo——««

apollo, to me, has always been sort of an enigma. i have a harder time interpreting his signs, especially recently, and i think that its particularly because of my recent falling out with my creative side. i have sort of abandoned my art, and it think its difficult for him to communicate with me through anything else.

one thing, however, i can feel him in is the sound of the birds in the morning. particularly, roosters.

as i mentioned before, my parents live on a farm. its natural to hear roosters first thing in the morning. some people find it annoying, but to me, its incredibly comforting. it means another morning has come. i’ve lived another day, and i have a whole new one to look forward to, until i hear the rooster the next morning. it means the sun is rising, and apollo rises with him. 

as a witch who particularly enjoys the sunrise, but has a hard time waking up to see it, the roosters serve as a sort of natural alarm clock. even if i do not physically get up to see the sunrise, i know it is happening, and i am awake for that first moment of dawn. it brings me comfort and a sense of small accomplishment, even on really difficult days.

and the days im in the city, and cant hear the roosters, its the morning songs of the birds in the part right next to my apartment building. this might be even more so, as apollo is the god of music. 

its a different type of comfort to wake up to the chill of the morning and hear the birds, knowing its a deity that loves me and wants to see me the next morning as well. i hope you, dearest reader, come to feel the same:).

asclepius——««

now, i haven’t talked about this much on this blog, but to me, asclepius has been such a pillar for me as of recent. with the pandemic and my own current health situation, i rely on him a lot for hope and support. i ask him to protect both me and my friends and family from illness or ailment, and in case of ailment, i ask him to facilitate a speedy recovery. thus far, he has never failed me, and i do not ever expect him to. i put my trust in him wholly. 

other than health, i find myself associating asclepius with cleanliness. while i see asclepius as the medic, i also see him as someone who is clean and organized. this is why i associate him with dewdrops.

now, bear with me in my explanation. morning dew, to me, feels clean. it feels almost pure, as it is one of the first forms of moisture a person can be met with during the day. 

picture it now. you wake up at sunrise, and venture out into your yard, the chill of the am just tickling at your face, cooling your nose to the touch. you take your first step off of the deck, and your bare feet sink into the grass, cold, and now wet from the dew. the feeling is shocking at first, as your feet get used to the new temperature, fresh out of the warm comfort of your blanket that sits invitingly on your bed inside. 

but the feeling is fresh. its grounding. its healing. 

that, to me, is how asclepius feels. 

sobek——««

i must be honest, sobek is the reason this post came to existence. i feel extremely strong about this one, particularly because i feel that sobek is under-appreciated and misunderstood as a god. i constantly encourage people to include sobek in their worship, as he, to me, has proven to be one of the most reliable gods i have ever worked with. i feel such a sense of comfort and love within him. i could sit in his energy for hours, days even. especially as a person who suffers from bouts of paranoia, his energy is one to learn to accept and become. 

for me, i see sobek in flowers. 

not many would see this, as sobek has this image of a tough, crocodile, protection god, which he is. but what a lot of people forget, is that sobek is also a god of fertility, particularly in harvest. in fact, sobek has done so much for my family’s farm. our garden is plentiful, and our harvests are more than we know what to do with. we end up making a lot of extra things with it, and giving it away to family friends and neighbors. i genuinely think that sobek creates abundance in our garden so he can give to our community. that is how loving i know him to be. 

however, what i specified was flowers. one of the most common offerings i give to sobek are roses. he seems to love them. sobek seems to protect that of which he loves, and roses are a symbol of love for me. i want to attempt to give him what he has given me. 

my family has a wildflower garden in front of our home. the morning i was sitting on the porch, i felt his presence, and i immediately looked to the flowers. delicate, yet extremely strong, and persevering. thats how i wish to be, and i can feel sobek in the encouragement of the flowers. 

i hope that didn’t come off too corny, although im pretty sure it did lol. i hope that this post was a good insight into my deities and how i understand them to be! again, disclaimer, not everyone experiences the gods in the same ways! some may agree with this post wholeheartedly, and some may have completely different experiences that make them disagree entirely! i am not one to gatekeep and define what the divine is, because the divine shows itself in different ways to different people. i hope you enjoyed this post, and have a wonderful day!

p.s. i love you and you’re worth it!

[kiyomie]

When you get this, you must publicly post something nice about at least 5 different people you follow, then copy and paste this in each of their ask boxes :^) [in case you've got more people you want to shower with compliments~]

ooh i recieved two more of these from @alice-chan-chan and @qvalcuno i'll be posting them all here~ (this'll be pretty long but ily all so endure)

@dicennio i think everyone knows how utterly talented this human being is (i always shower u with compliments in each of your edits❤) not to mention i love your sense of humor and overall just a really c o o l person

@eijunes woah cat your gifs are on another level seriously your fkbu gifsets (which ive seen but havent reblogged bc spoilers i havent watched them) the different colors you use in each of them BRO WOAH MY EYES BLESSED also ur a kind person our interactions were fun and cute i'd like to talk more in the future❤

@kagehjna oooh ilaydaa we dont talk often anymore but i really love your presence around my dash sm❤ i never forget how much of a fun and kind person you are thank you for leaving all those kind messages in the tags ugh my heart melts everytime

@haru-kaas anto!! i think you know already how much i love your content (if u didnt know well now u do🤩) and i love our interactions too, you're also one of the people here who just make this site way better

@kuroushi aahh omg i love your blog and holy shit your sense of humor😶 pls how could i live without your shitposts and memes and not to mention quality👌 edits in short tumblr won't be the same without u and wow are u so kind to talk to, looking forward to more interactions!!

@jaegerists siri!! i think you're one of the first mutuals i have on this site?? i remember thinking woah- they followed back😶 do know that i treasure your presence here on this site and also those lovely tags u leave on my stuff! all the love❤

@yokamis liiiaaaaa oMg i just love how damb sweet you are to me, your asks and replies (basically our past interactions) just melt my heart with how kind you are, you are also again another person i'm glad to have met on this site, thank u for existing you sweet person❤ i hope your doing amazing!!

@kurootetsuros audreeyyy!! yet again another person i'm blessed to have met here omg tumblr made me meet so many wonderful people including you, you've been so kind, supportive and fun through and through i would really love to talk and interact more with you and your talented self (hav all my luv❤❤❤❤)

@reddoriot tsuki!! AGAIN another sweet presence on my dash, you spread so much positivity how can anyone not love you😭 gosh ur talented too your art and gfx?? gimme sum of that talent🤲 you're simply just a lovely person your kind messages make really me smile🥺 (do know that ily too mwa❤)

@todoya k e l l y YOU are just- UGH im so bad at words but omg ily?? you took my heart already and are taking good care of it uwu everytime i rb my edits and leave those messages i cRI because how can one person be this sweet?? my fcking heart, also not to mention, you're so approachable?? what?? I feel so comfy in interacting and talking with u and that means a lot all the love always (watch mp when u have time pls)

@runwiththewind gabi!! ahhh i think we've only been mutuals recently and what?? i hate that sm, why have i only discovered your amazing blog recently?? your talent is i m m e n s e are you kidding?? I get even more in awe everytime i look at your edits, they're fucking superior period accept it, just...the work that goes into them...also thank you for hyping me up everytime i post my heart melts so much with how supportive you are❤ i'm looking forward to more interactions!!

@todorokih angell!! is an angel herself actually, we dont talk very often anymore but still i treasure all our interactions and you've always been the best in all those times, you're also talented af i hope you know how much i love the signature coloring you have on all your creations, all the love❤

@alice-chan-chan alice!! ofc i'll tag you here too you've seriously always been so kind and supportive always, i'll always never forget to mention how i love the cuteness and vibrance of your edits, your style is so distinctive wish you all the bests ❤

@qvalcuno aahh yes i'll tag you here too honestly i think you don't know how much i appreciate all the support/likes/reblogs, i really hope we get to interact more and ALSO if i remember correctly your blog (yourself) has a special place in my heart here bc you're the first person to ever send me an ask complimenting my small works and edits not too long ago❤ all the love as well

@villainii aaaahh we don’t interact much but do know that i also treasure your presence a lot <3 i really love seeing you and your blog around you are a kind and talented gfx maker i’d love to see more content from you!!!

@kioymi hey mika!! i would like to let you know that you're also one of those people who make my tumblr experience better, cute and sweet people like you never fail to shower positivity everywhere seeing you around my dash sure does brighten my day a little❤ your edits get better and better each time omg!!

@kikisdeliveryservices jill!! we haven't interacted much but im so thankful to know someone like you here, thank you for your kind words always, i never forget anything like that, and thank you again for sending in that ask when i recieved anon hate that one time, i really want to interact more with you your blog itself is just cute ghibli heaven (but im one of those uncultured swines who've only watched 2 ghibli films rip) but i love all your beautiful gifs and content❤

@ohreigen hey mary!! we dont talk much too but just know that bruh...i admire your edits with all my damn heart, to me before you were one of those big blogs whose creations look up to you always never fail to deliver quality content, keep making them pls everyone on this site (esp myself) need it!!

[hadestownmodern]

Persephone is everyone’s mom thats it thats the fic

This fic may be my favorite one I’ve personally written for this au??? It means SO fucking much to me and I think we agree that this is one of our favorite relationships to play with!

“Hey mama, you ready to go home?” Persephone peaks into the room, smiling brightly at Eurydice. The young girl was sitting on the edge of the bed, in her boyfriends oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants. She was free now of the IV and various health tracking devices, and how seemed no different than before save for the most important part- being, of course, the baby she held so near and dear to her. 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I think so.” Eurydice looks up at her and smiles. She’s already clearly tired but glowing is an understatement on how she radiates joy in this moment. “Have you seen-”

“Orpheus? He’s been cleaning the house all morning. He called me at four am to ask how to wash baby sheets. I thought he’d be here though…” Persephone entered the room and nearly stuck her arms out in anticipation. She’d refrained in the past two days of visits from asking to hold her, not wanting to take Eurydice’s daughter from her. She recalled her own refusal to let anyone hold Junie for days, so she understood. Eurydice worked hard for her, she deserved to never let go of her. 

“Oh he’s been around, he just left. I said I wanted fries and he went running.” Eurydice giggled, leaning down to brush her nose with Melody’s. “He’s gonna do anything we need, isn’t he baby girl?”

“I could have told you that months ago. He’s whipped for you. Thinks you hung the stars in the sky.” Persephone teases as she comes closer and sits next to Eurydice, her head coming to run over the baby’s dark hair. Persephone remembers it vividly- she’ll never forget it actually- the way she was enamored with her tiny daughter. The weight of her in her arms, the way she spent hours intoxicated with the smell of her hair. Eurydice deserved that kind of irrevocable love, too.

 “Does she have a name yet? Or is she gonna be baby girl for a few more days?” Junie had been easy to name- her name was decided for her before Persephone even knew she existed. 

“Oh! We picked one the other night..do you want to hold her?” It was abrupt, but Eurydice needed Persephone to be holding her when she told her. So she could take a picture of her reaction and save it forever, at least in her heart. 

Euydice didn’t want for a response before shoving the baby, tiny as she was in all her six pound glory, into the arms of her pseduo-mother and real best friend. 

“I- of course.” Persephone grins, laughing as soon as the infant is in her arms. “She’s so small! I forgot how little they are. Then again I haven’t seen a baby since Junie, and I never put her down long enough to register that she was an extra weight. She really was just part of me…” She’s cooing at the baby when Eurydice stands and takes the time to get her things together. Save for Orpheus and a few brief nurses visits this is the first time the little girl is out of her arms. 

“So what’s her name? Curly fry? Waffle fry?” Persephone teases, recalling the endless stops they had made together so Eurydice could satisfy a craving one way or another. 

“Cajun fry, thank you.” Eurydice rolls her eyes, but reaches out to hold the baby’s hand. “no..Her name is Melody. ‘Cause she’s like Orpheus singing to her for months now. He’s the only thing that could calm her down...it seemed fitting, you know? To name her after music...after his music. My Melody. Melody Stephanie.” She raises an eyebrow at Persephone, to see if she caught on what she did yet, but the content smile gave nothing away. 

“Melody. It’s a beautiful name. Very Fitting. Melody Stephanie..it’s nice.” Melody, she understood. And looking at the little girl in her arms she could agree- yes, this baby was Melody. Stephanie didn’t flow- she expected maybe an homage to Eurydice’s mother but not Stephanie. “Nice name...I have to admit i’m surprised you didn’t pick something for your mother. I know you don’t talk about her much but you’ve told me before you wish she were here and-”

“It is a nice name.” Eurydice agrees, squinting her eyes at Persephone as she continues to talk about the content of her daughter’s name. She really didn’t get it. “But I did name her after my mother, Perstephanie.” It’s teasing and light, but she looks up just in time for her brown eyes to meet Persephone’s. “You are Orpheus’ mother… and you’re as close as i’ve ever had.”

It was true. She respected her mother and the few memories she had of Lydia were happy ones. But in the terms of parenthood and being a mother- Persephone filled that role for Orpheus his entire life. She went to parent teacher conferences, she went to recitals. She was his mother. And in the short eleven months since she met Persephone- even before she met Orpheus- the woman had filled that role for her too. Persephone was the first person who saw her- not the broken child shuffled home to home, not the girl with the hard shell to protect herself from the world- as herself. Just a girl putting herself through school to make a better life for herself. Just Eurydice. 

Persephone was the person who found out this brilliant girl- who never missed class, turned assignments in early, came to office hours, who offered commentary every discussion- had noone. That she was a force to be reckoned with but she was alone. Persephone was the one who insisted she not spend a holiday alone, not spend one more day in that shady part of town she lived in. Persephone was by and large the reason they were sitting in a hospital room today, a two day old baby being passed between them. 

“She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You’re the reason I formally met the boy who I watched sing across from me at the coffee shop for weeks. You’re the reason I had a place to go, and you’re the one who gave me the wine that said going home with him was a good idea-” Eurydice is laughing and smiling, a juxtaposition to the solid stream of tears falling down her cheeks. Persephone was the only other person besides her Orpheus that could see her like this. 

“You gave me my family.” Eurydice takes Persephone’s hand, and squeezes it, drawing them to look eye to eye. She’s crying and she realizes so is Persephone, though Persephone’s border sobs far more than her own. Eurydice, at least, is trying to stay composed through the rest of her dedication. 

“You gave me my family. Melody wouldn’t exist if you didn’t insist I come over that night. Orpheus is Orpheus because of you. Not because of Calliope. And in the times I needed someone most..when I needed a mom. You were the one who was there. When I was so sick I couldn’t make it to class and you let me eat crackers in your office. Or when I was so tired I couldn’t stand and you let me sleep in your office. You kept shoes for me knowing I was going to be so damn stubborn i’d be crying by noon if it weren’t for you saving my life with flip flops.” Eurydice laughs, wiping her tears away, before she runs that hand over her daughter’s cheek, eyes looking at only Melody now.

“I don’t want her to carry the ghosts and demons of a dead woman in her name. I loved my mother when I was little. But she isn’t my mom like you are, Seph. And if she ends up anything at all like you then she’ll be a damn good woman one day.”  

Persephone is speechless, tears falling over her face and landing on the baby she held. Her heart felt tight in her chest, as pieces from a conversation with her mother eight short months ago fell into place. 

“I’m just scared he’ll get his heart broken,” Persephone is sitting at the island in her kitchen, across from her mother, picking at broken bits of Christmas Cookies. “And if he does it’ll be my fault. I introduced them. And if he gets his heart broken-”

“I know you love the boy, Persephone. We all do. You raised him. Yet you also know they love each other. And that is deep and inseverable love. Do not worry. This is meant to happen in this way. They are two souls created for each other. The universe works the way it was supposed to. They were made to be together, this is just a fact of life. They are meant to have this baby just as I was meant to have you, Honey Bee.” Demeter is stitching something intently, across from Persephone, but watched her daughter intently. “The love they have for each other was put there by the universe..but so was the love you have for her.”

Persephone raises an eyebrow at her, reaching out to grab her wine glass, swirling the deep wine within it rather than bringing it to her lips. “She’s a great girl and I love her, yeah-”

“No. She was meant to be in our lives as much as she was his. She was born to another woman but her soul is tied to yours. You could not have been her mother by birth, no. That privilege was reserved for Juniper and the things she will bring you. But, Eurydice needs you in the same way you need her. Whatever that may be is up to you.” Demeter muses, glancing at her granddaughter who was sitting on the floor, playing with a baby doll. “Yes, Eurydice is part of your heart for a reason. Don’t underestimate the power of the love you will share.”

“Look, i’m “Rydice!” Junie interjects, waving the baby around enthusiastically, before holding her arms up to Demeter to be held. 

Persephone snorts before drinking the remnants of the wine, shaking her head at her toddler. “June Bug, you can’t say that yet.”

“Why not? She’s right. This one, she’s got the gift for sure.” Demeter kisses her angelic curls, wrapping both arms around her grand daughter. 

“Mmhmm. Gift.”

“Eurydice I-” She doesn’t know what to say, she doesn’t know how to elaborate on the deep feelings of love and protection she feels for the young girl infront of her. 

“Is that okay with you?” Eurydice asks, so soft Persephone isn’t sure she’s actually speaking or if she’s imagining it. “We can change it-”

“What? No, No. I’m honored, Eurydice. Truly- i’m so honored.” Persephone breaks their linked hands so that she can run her finger under her eyes to catch her tears. “I-thank you, Eurydice.”

“Thank you, for everything you’ve given us.” Eurydice wraps her arms around Persephone’s shoulders, careful not to crush her daughter between them. “Thank you for seeing more than the broken girl with the sad story.”

Persephone wraps her free arm around Eurydice’s back, hiding her crying face in the dark, cropped hair of the new mother in her arm. 

They stay like this for minutes, at least, until Orpheus returns to the room and finds them crying in each other’s arms. He wants to ask, but knows what has transpired is personal and intimate to the two of them and that if he’s meant to know he will. That’s just the way the universe would have it.

[celestarial]

Here are some voice lines I have been working on for Mitsuki! The rest are below the cut! [I might add to this? Not sure, but here is this for now! ^-^!)

Hello...: “I am called Kazaoka Mitsuki, but... you may call me Mitsuki.”

Good Morning: “The sun has risen, what will you do with it’s light?”

Good Afternoon: “Now feels like a good time for some tea, is there a specific kind that you prefer? Hm? Oh, I can heat it with my magic of course.”

Good evening: “It has been a long time since I was on my feet for so long. Perhaps now is a good time to look for a place to rest?”

Good night: “Ah, you may sleep without concern. I can watch over you.”

Chat - clothes: “Hm? My dress? It is called Kimono, it is common in Inazuma. Mine is made of silk, do you want to feel it?”

Chat - traditions: “I feel like young people are forgetting where to place their priorities. They may move on, but where would they be without those that fought to get them there?”

Chat - travel: “It seems Teyvat has changed much more than I thought it would... Do you know of any good places I can visit?”

When it rains: “When it rains in the forest, you are sheltered by the abundance of trees that surround you. Never forget to thank even the simplest of beings.”

When thunder strikes: “Thunder and lightning are symbols of the Shogun... hm? Oh, I am not afraid of either.”

When the sun is out: “Sunlight is a gift that we do not appreciate until we have it no longer.”

When the wind is blowing:  “The wind can resonate with anyone or anything... calm and gentle, or fierce and strong... is that why he calls it free?”

About Mitsuki: “In my town I was given the nickname Fire Starter out of spite. I do not particularly care one way or the other about the title, but I do care about those that lack respect.”

About Spring: “In Inazuma, the spring festival is very important. It is always the day before spring begins. It is the day that the spirits exist closest to our world - both malicious and benevolent. It is wise to visit a temple to get your blessings.”

About Liyue: “Liyue is lucky to have had such a long standing, and benevolent Archon. His passing is more of a tragedy than people realize. Not only for them, but all of Teyvat...”

About the Vision: “Gifts from the gods... they grant mortals the ability to command a powerful element, however there are other means of controlling magic.”

Anything to share... “Inazuma was not always so closed off, we used to be very close with the people of Liyue... how long ago you ask? Oh... perhaps too long.”

Interesting things... “Noda Fuji, or The Wisteria flower is a beautiful lavender blossom that can be found in Inazuma. It is quite the versatile flower, many locals use it in their food, and even make drinks out of them! Only the flower though, you do not want to eat any other part of the plant.”

About - Zhongli: “Ah, I’ve met him before actually... he reminded me of someone else from long ago...”

About the Bafuku: “They are the extension of the Archon of Inazuma, they carry out her will. I do not care for them in particular. What good is blind obedience anyway?”

About the Shogun: “Baal, the Raiden Shogun of Inazuma, I try to stay out of her way. She has recently decided to confiscate the visions of everyone living in the nation. I do not agree with this. How can she believe that she has the right to take away a gift given to one from another god? It is ludicrous...” 

More about Mitsuki - I: “I enjoy board games, if you are ever curious about how to win one fairly, or otherwise... let me know. I’ll be more than happy to share. As long as you play a few rounds with me of course.”

More about Mitsuki - II: “Spicy food is my favorite. I have not come across a flavor that has topped it at all. Of course it needs to be balanced, if I wanted to eat straight fire... well, I wouldn’t have to pay for that now would I? Though it would be far more unpleasant...”

More about Mitsuki - III: “My weapons were a gift given to me long ago... I have never gone anywhere without them since the day I received them. With my fan I can bend the wind, and with my blade I can sear through almost anything...if I must.”

More about Mitsuki - IV: “After the war, I chose to stay in Inazuma. I felt like it was my duty to protect the people that lived there. Though we had won... there was still so many shadows that crept out from the abyss, darkening every corner they could... It was my duty to light the way...”

More about Mitsuki - V: “It has been so long since I’ve seen anyone that stood by my side in those days, but I still remember their faces. Where are they now I wonder? Do they... still remember mine?”

Mitsuki’s hobbies... “I like to play Gomoku, it is a strategy game. You can play with stones or marbles...acorns even. As long as the other player’s pieces are different enough. To win you must line up five of your pieces in a straight line - uninterrupted. The direction does not matter, so long as it is straight. Would you like to play? I haven’t played that in years...” 

Favorite food: “I am not too picky about food. But I had this fantastic bowl of ramen once, it had eggs, pork, and beef, mixed in with the perfect amount of garlic and peppers... oooh, I wish I could find such a dish again. I don’t think anything has ever made my eyes water the way that did...”

Least Favorite Food: “I really don’t care for raw food... it just... it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Ugh, it’s even worse if it’s bland! At that point, I might as well eat the thing straight off the pike!”

Birthday: “Here, take these, they are just simple hair rods engraved with a sigil to bring good fortune, but they are blessed. One is for you, and the other for your twin. May you find each other again.”

[spooks-can-write]

The Babysitter

Nestor x Reader

Summary: Emily hires you to babysit Cristobal (this is apart from the actual tv series events) and you and Nestor have some...tension. im bad at summaries ok.

Warnings: no smut just tension lmao. Cursing. Some predatory behavior, nothing beyond that.

Word count: idk tbh its longER tho bc i cant be short im s o r r y.

Hope yall enjoy 💞

The door chimed as you walked into the coffee shop, immediatley seeing Emily beam as she saw you made you loose a tension you didnt know you were holding. After leaving your last job abruptly you had been busy trying to get your shit together and through the struggle you were glad to take a break to see your old babysitter and childhood friend Emily.

"Hey (y/n)!" She stood up, you noted motherhood suited her well. She seemed more at peace now.

"Hey Em!" You looked down to see Cristobal sweetly sleeping in his noteably expensive stroller.

"So..." she seemed eager "I was talking with Miguel and we know you're...well...looking for a new job and place to stay so we thought it'd be perfect if you stayed with us as Cristobals full time nanny."

You were caught off gaurd to say the least "Oh, uh that does sounds great but i dont have any experience really."

"Dont worry well figure it out and ill be there in the beginning till you settle in. Trust me."

You thought you didnt have many other places to go either way and being in a stable enviornment would be good for a change. Fuck it.

"When can i start?"

Nannying was going better than you thought. It helped that Cristobal was more than well behaved but also you kind of had a knack for it. Not to mention the mansion Emily lived in. The only problem from time to time was that asshole with the cornrows. He always blatantly ignored you or just stared at you until you left the room. You thought long and hard about what you did to piss him off and couldnt think of a single thing, so you decided he was just an asshole.

You needed to check with Miguel about taking Cristobal to the park, going to his office you just found Nestor standing next to an empty desk.

"Where is Miguel?"

He didnt respond.

"Where.Is.Miguel?" You ask with more attitude than you meant.

He blinked like he didnt understand.

"Nestor!" You raised your voice

"He stepped out. He'll be back in 10." His calm tone didnt match yours. You instantly felt embaressed to have been rude. Shit.

"Thanks" you walked out wishing you had been more calm

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

When you walked in he looked up, thinking it was miguel, to see you. You were wearing that new top he liked. It hugged your curves. The sun was hitting your face making you glow.

Fuck you were beautiful. He wanted to shove the chair out of the way and grab you and kiss you more than he ever wanted anything he knew he couldnt have.

Shit. You looked mad.

"Nestor!"

He gathered his thoughts

He watched you walk out. His stomach twisted that you seemed mad at him. Fuck.

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

They were supposed to be gone all day so you were walking around the house, bouncing and humming a hymn to Cristobal in your pjs. He slowly fell asleep as you walked around the stairs to the den, you stopped dead.

You were met with the eyes of Miguel, Devante, Nestor, and a fair skinned man with a lot of jewlery and a shit eating grin as his eyes obviosuly roamed your body. You were just wearing a little bit too short of shorts and a tank top that cristobals sleepy hand was tugging down. You felt your stomach twist and cheeks flush.

"Sorry-I I didnt know anyone was home, he was getting fussy so.." you trailed off as Miguel stood up giving you a look you couldnt read. You looked over to Nestor and he looked upset.

"Dont worry mija we were just finishing up." Miguel said, like he meant it.

"Actually" the strange man stood, still undressing you with his eyes. It was starting to piss you off.

"Miguelito i think we should wait till my party next saturday to...finalize this deal huh?" He said with that same grin.

"Por supuesto" miguel said as he ushered the man to the other side of the room, talking to each other in spanish too quiet for you to decipher.

You felt stuck in your place. You focused on Cristobals breath against your chest. Trying to let it calm you. You noted more of the man. He looked dangerous. Emily told you Miguel was a international businessman and you believed her till you came here. You werent stupid enough to ask exactly what he did but you also werent stupid enough to believe he was just a businessman either.

The men came back and stood in front of you for a beat.

"Hey listen im really sorry i thought everyone was gone-" you started

"No worries chiquita, but do you have a passport?" Devante asked, eyebrow raised

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

"Well if im being whored out i mine as well look good right?" You said smoothing down the soft rose gold satin dress as Emily and Dita sang your praises.

"How many times do i have to tell you (y/n) he just told Miguel he wanted to see you at the party, hes not going to do anything and we won't let him anyways." Emily reassured you, doing your hair.

"You're a part of the family now mija, this is our job as the women." You knew that comment was true, you saw it with your own eyes and that made it sting even more.

You were doing it for the sake of Emily and her family you told yourself. Plus you did look amazing in the dress.

You tugged at the zipper of the dress, it wouldn't budge.

"Hey em, can you-" you turned to see nestor at the door.

"I can if you want" his voice was gentle. Not that he was ever callous with you but it felt deliberate.

"Yeah sure" you half whispered, surprised it got caught in your throat.

He walked over. You moved your hair in front as he gently pulled the zipper up. Touching it when he was done. You turned.

"Listo?" He asked

You nodded, following. Feeling a flutter in your chest.

The drive to mexico was beautiful and serene. You mind did wander to Nestor and how sweet he was to you. You wondered if it was a fluke. Maybe he felt sorry for you. You tried not. to feel sorry for yourself.

You arrived to what looked like a castle. It had the guards with machine guns and everything. You found humor in that, as the situation sank in, you weren't scared.

It you were honest with yourself even when Nestor was cold to you, you always felt safe with him.

You all got out of the car, you last, as Nestor helped you onto the uneven stones. It'd been a minute since you wore heels.

"Dont worry." He leaned down to talk close to you, squeezing your hand. You met his smile.

The music was loud as you walked in. People were dancing and the mariachis were amazing. You were thankful to sit next to emily and dita. You felt eyes on you from men and their wives. You tugged your dress up. Definitley not the most revealing at the party but apparently it was enough.

"Its because you are not married" Dita told you, a comforting hand on your shoulder. "They are jealous" She smiled. It didnt make you feel better. You tried to focus on the drink in front of you.

The man from the house yelled joyfully and drunkenly in spanish and started walking toward the table. The men quickly stood up and met him halfway. Ushering him into a private room smoothly. Not before you made eye contact and he winked. You held your shudder.

The night went on and you found yourself almost having fun and forgetting the dangerous people around you.

You went to the bathroom as Devante and Dita danced.

You were looking for the bathroom when you felt a heavy hand on your waist. You jumped and turned. It was the man.

"Hello pretty women" he said with a accent slurred with the smell of strong alcohol that pinched your nose.

You backed up to find yourself against a wall. You started to look for a way out but his hand got harder on your waist, moving to hold your hip.

He leaned in speaking breathy spanish against your ear you couldnt understand on your best day. You took the opportunity to side step, noticing his henchmen about 10 ft away watching, glocks on their hips. The situation sank your stomach. You wouldnt be getting out of here.

"(Y/n) ive been looking everwhere for you." Dita shuffled past the man grabbing your arm and pulling you away. "Miguel needs to talk with you." She said louder than necesarry.

You were at a near jog down the hall. She stopped and turned you when you were safely away but not into the main area.

"Are you okay mija?" She held your hand. You felt tears welling.

"Men like that will ways exist and here, you will find them in abundance. It's important to stay close to us. They prey on the lone wolf okay?" You nodded. She wiped the tear you didnt know you shed.

She stayed with you till you calmed down.

"Brave face mija" she said as you walked back into the room, back to the table. Nestor and miguel were there looking directly at you, worried, trying to read your face. You forced a smile. Understanding what being in this family meant. It wasnt good. It wasnt bad. It was just your life now.

Nestor quickly sat next to you. Emily eyeing you, sympathetically. They were all too smart to not put together what happened. She touched your thigh, you flinched. She removed it. You could see she made a heartbroken face out the corner of your eyr but you couldnt bring yourself to meet her eyes.

"Im okay i promise. Just..shook up" you were honest. She nodded. You knew she felt terrible.

The night continued. Nestor wanted to kill him and he knew how he would do it. He shared looks with Miguel. He shook his head. Not yet. The second you walked out, holding ditas arm like it was the only thing keeping you up his stomach twisted. Rage ran down his back.

When he didnt see that bastard Diego and didnt see you, his mind raced and he was about to go down the hall to kill that fuck when Dita grabbed him.

"You can't. It has to be me." She didnt have to explain. He knew why. It killed him to turn around and walk away from the situation as his mind let dark thoughts in of what he was doing to you.

He kept looking at you, he could see you trying to be brave but under the table your leg was shaking and you were fidgeting with your hands.

"Come outside with me baby" he leaned over so only you could hear him.

You looked over at him standing with his hand out. You were thankful. Did he just call you baby? It sounded good coming out of his mouth.

You took his hand. It was calloused and strong. It calmed you down almost instantly as he led you outside. When people saw him coming they almost fell over themselves to move out of your way.

The cool air felt good on your flushed cheeks. He let go of your hand and led you to the balcony. You leaned on it, embracing the night air.

"Its really beautiful out here, all things considered." You chuckled.

He looked worringly at you, "Thank you Nestor." You grabbed his arm.

Fuck, his name sounded so good in your mouth.

"You're welcome." He watched as you leaned against the balcony. He wanted to touch you, tell you, youre beautiful but after what happened thats not what you needed and he knew it.

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

You stayed like that for awhile, in each other's silence. The muffled sound of the mariachis relaxing you.

You felt your eyes getting heavy.

"Dont get tired now its not even 1am yet." You looked over, surprised he noticed.

"Maybe we can just stay out here all night then." You smiled at him.

Fuck he would do just about anything you asked. Crawl on glass in the snow, change your oil, anything as long as you kept smiling at him like that.

"But it's probably best to go inside right?" You sighed.

"I think so."

You grabbed his arm as you walked in, holding onto him and keeping your eyes on the table.

Time passed and you struggled to stay awake, you leaned on Nestor's shoulder without thinking, you froze. He moved over to make you more comfortable, moving his arm around you but not too much. You snuggled in. Damn he smelled good too. You closed your eyes, feeling people looking. Fuck em.

You were stirred up by Nestor rubbing your upper arm "hey, hey, time to go."

You stirred, never really falling asleep but not present for the end. Everyone was filing out slowly.

Nestor was looking over to Miguel and Diego. He shook Miguel's hand. He didn't look away as he put his coat over your shoulders and walked you all out.

You noticed Emily smirking at you, making eyes at Nestor's jacket around you.

You tried to open your mouth

"-Ah." She cut you off. "You don't need to tell me anything." She smiled.

You smiled back, happily getting in the warm car and doozing on and off on the way home, catching Nestor look at you in the rearview mirror made you blush.

You all made your way inside as you felt the emotional fatigue of the day in your legs.

Nestor was waiting by the front door. Not for you it seemed. Just taking a moment.

"Can i be out here with you for awhile?" You asked, ready for him to say anything.

"Yeah."

"Thanks for tonight, for taking care of me."

"I know you can take care of yourself (y/n). I just didn't want you to feel alone out there." He spoke softly, sitting next to you.

You stared at his face for the first time it seemed. He was beautiful. You dared to glance down at his lips.

He followed your eyes. He wouldn't move qn inch on you tonight. He didnt want to chance pushing you but fuck did he want you so bad.

You weren't used to initiating, you could see he wanted you but wouldnt move. You closed the distance, stopping just short to see if he'd react.

His head just barely titled up towards you, you took it and kissed him, you being the one to take control felt good. You wondered if he was usually like this.

He was gentle and sweet and you found yourself appreciating it tonight. You grabbed his face and you deepened the kiss.

You felt brave and stood up and sat down to straddle him. He grunted in the back of his throat as you grabbed his braid he moved his hands to hold your thigh and ass.

The kiss slowed down and he smiled into it. You laughed, dropping your head into his shoulder, touching your lips.

"Wow uh-" you got off him, laughing with him.

"Yeah" he laughed, grabbing your hand. "Let's go inside."

He dropped you off at your room which felt cute and a little ridiculous. It was fitting.

Words failed you and it seemed to him, as well.

"Goodnight." He said softly again.

"Good night Nestor." You replied closing your door, silently congratulating yourself for not dragging him into your room.

Whatever, give it a week. You smiled.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Erica Heftmann breaks free from the control of the FFWPU / UC

Dark Side of the Moonies by Erica Heftmann  (Penguin Books 1982)

Erica Heftmann was born in Washington, DC, in 1952. She believed she was born again in 1974 to Korean parents — the Lord of the Second Advent, Reverend Moon, and his wife, Hak Ja Han. She was deprogrammed from the Moon cult and became interested in the issue and power of mind control. In the 1980s, because of her research and expertise in that field, she was in demand as an adviser to mental health professionals, clergy, legislators, educators, legal and medical practitioners, law enforcement agencies, mind control victims and their families throughout the world.

Contents

Part I – Heavenly Deception

Part II – Free Will But No Choice

Part III – Return to Reality

Part IV – From the Outside Looking In

1 The Technology of Mind Control 2 Deprogramming Therapy 3 Judiciary, Legislature and the ‘Cryptocracy’ 4 Critical Judgement

Notes

Dark Side of the Moonies is the disturbing account of one person who gave up her own mind, her whole life to a man she thought was the messiah.

Since her liberation from the Moonies, she has come to understand the power that was used to control her. In revealing the hidden life of one cult, Erica Heftmann exposes the startling force cults are exerting in society – and the grip they have on many people.

I was a Moonie. When I regained my mind and could look back at the horror of it, I realized that my freedom was conditional. I was haunted by the need to understand how and why I had been transformed into what I hated most. Now I would be an ex-Moonie. My innocence would never return. … I had to live with the ignorance and prejudice of a public that believes I was somehow pre-disposed to becoming a cult member while they are immune. People think cults are something to laugh at, groups of religious half-wits who would never have made it in life anyway and are better off where they are. I was there … to further incredible schemes of political and economic power.

I am setting out my story and my explanations of it. I do this for the sake of others who have suffered agonies so profound as to make my cult experience seem like a holiday. I wish that I could bring voice to the countless others... I write this for people under mind control, especially those I love who are mentioned in these pages. Do not be afraid to use your own minds; you need no greater masters.

In this era we are learning about the plight of the handicapped, the minorities, those who have been denied the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We must learn about all unfortunates because we are responsible for depriving them by our failure to listen, to understand, to allow them the right to help themselves. Those who are able and refuse to help are the true unfortunates. They do not know how precious life is.

Erica Heftmann 1981

page 1

Part I – Heavenly Deception

On the last day of 1974 I nudged my way through the bustle of downtown Los Angeles with a lot on my mind. It wasn’t only taking inventory of the past year. It was the pattern I saw emerging. Breaking away, testing new ground, retreating. Every path led to the same edge and, feeling I couldn’t make it across, I would go back to find another path. I had come to know the edge pretty well.

I was surprised to hear the stories that circulated about me because I considered my life to be too ordinary. My measuring standards were not set by my peers but by the characters that peopled my books and travels.

Adulthood was edging me away from my mother and an older sister I adored. My father and brother had removed themselves from the family during my late childhood but what was left was stable. Mom was always patient, comforting, totally involved in her two girls.

I had a short romance with formal education. After two terms at university I declared myself graduated, having learned everything I felt the institution had to teach me: how to find a book in the library and how to sit down to coffee with an interesting professor.

With full sails and no rudder, I went to Europe taking every precaution not to be a hippie, annoyed that of all the times I could have been born on this planet I had to co-exist with a counter-culture that popularized doing one’s own thing. I picked my way carefully to avoid the throngs of stereotyped individuals who faced me at every turn. …

My mother was not easy to rebel against because I felt she was usually right. How could I break away and establish my own identity if there was no risk involved? She was always there to fall back on, to soften the blows. … Maybe you’ve been on your own for a few years but the world has just been your playground.

Wait a minute. Don’t be that hard on yourself. Someone puts you on a speck of cosmic dust whirling through space without asking your permission and then just as rudely and abruptly and inevitably takes you away. While you’re here you’re given a set of problems and a set of rules for solving them. Like someone leaving a kid to amuse himself with square pegs and round holes. ’Bye kid, see you in eighty or ninety years. No, Erica, I don’t blame you one bit for stepping back to take a look at it all. People are manipulating and killing each other and for what? Do they even enjoy the spoils of their exploits? Why waste your life trying to set things up for them to destroy when you have enough sense to realize that there’s something else in this existence to do?

Lonely, confused and worried about fulfilling my potential, I had escaped the forced gaiety of the office New Year’s party. Everyone making crass jokes about resolutions and getting drunk to forget them.

On the last working day of the year, all the desk calendars in the office buildings were collected and released into the wind from the roofs. They fluttered down like ticker tape. Now as I walked the last couple of blocks to the bus stop, I stared at them cluttering the pavement. Some pages had little notes jotted on them. OCTOBER 15/meet Dave for lunch. Or 2:00/REGIONAL MEETING. Giving in to a wave of melancholy, I couldn’t help but see the metaphor days lying in the gutter, accumulated so quickly and then forgotten.

A big commuter bus moved away from the kerb and blasted a clump of pages into an open drain with its exhaust. So it’s come to this, has it, I tried joking with myself.

I looked up about the same moment that I felt someone gazing at me. A pair of blue eyes much like my own. A young woman just a few paces away was watching me. She was wholesome looking, rather tall, and had a short, dark-haired young man with her.

In my memory, it is etched that I was the one to start the conversation but I know that this is not the way it happened. There was just something so familiar and so welcoming in her eyes that I felt myself reaching out to make the first move.

All I needed for an introduction was to know that they were foreigners. How well I remembered the feeling of being a newcomer to a city and how comforting it was when strangers had stopped and talked with me.

The girl’s name was Ingrid and she was from Switzerland. The one she towered over was Antonio, a Peruvian. I asked how such an unlikely combination had met They explained that they were touring with an organization called International One World Crusade. This was their last stop in America and within a week they would push on to Japan.

Ingrid had spent all of her time in Los Angeles cooped up in the kitchen cooking for the others. On her first opportunity to get out and see the sights, she was delighted to meet someone. They chatted on. Out of the corner of my eye I was searching for a coffee shop we could dive into. I made the suggestion. It was one of those magical meetings that happens when one travels and I could tell the feelings were shared all around. My bus didn’t stop running for a few hours.

‘We’d love to,’ Ingrid said, ‘But we are just on our way back for an evening meeting. Would you like to walk with us? You could see our headquarters office and meet some of the others.’

Something flickered in me, making me want to bolt, no matter how friendly they were. Something about not being on neutral turf. I noticed it at the same time I realized that I was already walking with them in their direction. …

page 187

Part III Return to Reality

Up late this morning. At 6.00 I should already be in the lodge with Paul to correct reflection books. Paul is the best assistant I’ve ever had and this is by far the most successful workshop since the old days with Alex. Yesterday Mr Kadachi gave the VOC lecture so that we could have some time to catch up on our reports but we scrambled up onto the roof of the lodge to talk instead.

I think it is important to develop a good subject-object Foundation for the Abel position we hold collectively. …

Paul is still having Chapter Two problems about his old girlfriend. I am glad he is confiding in me. I remember all the times Kathy and I kept him away from Lisa and occupied when the centres used to come up for weekend workshop. I thought Lisa’s transfer to MFT would solve a lot. They were both trying hard to overcome and by all external appearances they had but now I’m finding out that Paul is entertaining hopes of being blessed with her. It isn’t good to think about the Blessing, especially trying to second-guess Father. Paul keeps insisting that Spirit World prepared them for the Family because they had been sweethearts since high school. . He is suffering so much and so much wants to please Heavenly Father.

We must be a good combination because we’ve been having such fantastic results with our workshops. We work as a unit. Father was right that if you serve someone well enough, you make him dependent on you. He opens up to you and gradually the power shifts its balance point. If you are a good object, it is much more important than being a mediocre subject. …

I have finally learned how to handle sleep. Imagine how much time is wasted in the Fallen World. Midnight is just the beginning of the evening for me. Paul covered for me for fifteen minutes yesterday during discussion and made me sleep. On the way down the hill with the class, he whistled for me when they passed the dorm and I was out the back way and down to the lodge before them. I had only had forty-five minutes of sleep the night before and during the past weeks it has been usually two hours, sometimes three. That fifteen minutes was like a whole night I got up completely refreshed. I think I’ve finally broken through.

I must apologize to Mr Kadachi. I was so upset with him because he slept during the day and pulled staff meetings as late as 3.30 in the morning — never before 2.00. The meetings were late only because he was reading or playing with his lizards. When he had us as a captive audience he would put off staff matters and expound on some recent theory about the Restoration. I contradicted one of his theories and still feel horrible about it but it did bring the meeting to a quick close. No one else would dare stand up to Kadachi-san. …

The day sailed by with its own effortless momentum. In the afternoon I was called into the kitchen for a phone call. Mr Kadachi was pacing. I picked up the receiver.

‘Erica? I was afraid I wouldn’t get through to you. They gave me the usual runaround.’

‘Well, Mom, sometimes I’m busy and can’t get to the phone.’

‘Too busy to take a call from me?’

I rolled my eyes up. How would she like it if I interrupted her at work?

‘I’m here in San Bernardino and I hope you won’t give me some story about being too busy to see me today. We have a date, you know.’

Did we? It seemed that I was always trying to get out of some engagement and I kept postponing these visits with promises. Guess she finally caught up with me. Kadachi was at my side poking around in his lizardarium. I placed my hand over the receiver.

‘She says she’s in San Bernardino and wants to see me today.’

‘You have a workshop to look after. Tell her to make it another time.’

I uncovered the receiver. ‘I have a workshop to look after. Could we make it another time?’

‘Erica, I’ve driven all this way.’ She sounded a bit frantic. ‘Are you going to make me turn around and go back? I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, remember, and I want to see you before I go.’

‘She’s insisting. She says she’s driven all this way and wants to know if I’m going to make her turn around and go back. She’s leaving for New York tomorrow.’

Kadachi gave me a look that revealed nothing and turned back to his lizards. How could I be so weak as to have to bother him and get him to tell me what to do?

‘Look, Ma, I’m going to have to go now. My class is starting.’

Click

I was hardly out the door when the phone rang again. It took three calls before I was reluctantly given permission to go. I wasn’t pressuring either side, they just fought it out with me as the transmitter of information. The condition was that I be back for evening discussion. I wouldn’t have missed that for the world anyway.

By the time she and my step-father Chuck arrived, I was bathed and had styled my hair with a blow-dryer I found in the sisters’ cabin. I also found a ‘good’ set of clothes I’d never seen before. They fit and I looked very nice when I sized myself up in the mirror.

I ran down the steps of the lodge to meet them. The guard at the gate had already informed me of their arrival. After quick hellos I found myself in an argument. I wanted them to come inside and meet my friends. They replied flatly that they were not interested in coming in, only in seeing me.

‘You say you’re interested in what I’m doing. How are you ever going to find out if you don’t see for yourselves? You just keep reading those negative articles.’

They could hardly conceal their discomfort and my mother couldn’t pass the opportunity for some hostile remarks so I decided that it was better to leave right away. Then, at least, I could return earlier. Paul was thrilled about taking over for a while and I was looking forward to the meal so it wasn’t a bad arrangement after all. I told them to wait a moment on the landing. I searched for Kadachi to say goodbye. His wife told me he had locked himself in his room at his cabin. I would probably return before he emerged from his meditation.

I slid in the front seat between my parents and chattered the whole way down the mountain. I told them about Roy’s close scrape with his parents. They had tried to kidnap him but he escaped. He was sorry for hurting his father in the tussle on the ground but not sorry enough to speak with them. I usually handled Roy’s calls. They simply would not understand that he had been transferred. They thought we were hiding him. No one at camp even knew where he had been transferred to.

‘Imagine parents trying to do something like that to their own child!’ I gasped.

Chuck dropped us off at a small restaurant in town while he went to see about getting something fixed on the car. I ordered a large meal and wolfed it down. Mom didn’t touch what she had ordered. She said that she was coming down with flu and had lost her appetite. If my stomach had been able to stretch, I would’ve eaten her meal as well. We didn’t talk much. These days we had little in common. I couldn’t see the point in pretending to be interested in the Fallen World and she refused to take an interest in the Restoration. She kept glancing at her watch, obviously worried about Chuck taking so long.

When he arrived, he said he wasn’t hungry either and they wanted to beat the traffic back to town. They still had to pack for their trip. He hastily paid the bill and we went out to the car. The lot was dark and the car was at the rear of the building. I instinctively sized up the lot for fundraising. Hard habit to get over. Good thing I was going back to camp instead of out blitzing.

I was grabbed from behind and thrown forward. It happened so quickly that I was in the back seat between Chuck and a strange man before I caught my breath. My mind jammed. My mother was in the driver’s seat revving the engine and another person sat in the front seat on the passenger’s side. We took off as the doors were being pulled closed.

It was several moments before I could speak. My mind snapped into the witnessing mode. I politely extended my hand to the man on my right to introduce myself.

‘How do you do? My name is Erica.’

He reached under the seat and brought out a bouquet of flowers. Presenting them, he said, ‘Very well, thanks. My name is Dana. Here, these are for you.’

Dana! I couldn’t believe it. Dana Stevens? It must have been ten years since I’d seen him — he’d been living in Paris for that long. He was a dear friend of the family, someone I had been infatuated with as a child. Mom had told me that he had come back a few weeks before to get married.

I could not recognize him in the dark but there was no mistaking his style. I looked at the person in the front seat. A woman. She must be his new wife.

‘Mrs Stevens, do you mind if I embrace your husband?’ I threw my arms around Dana’s neck. It was totally unprincipled but my mind was jilted and I was too happy to see him to care about Principle for that moment.

My mother had the wheel gripped firmly. ‘I’m sorry, Erica. You didn’t show up at Dana’s wedding so we’re going to have another reception party now just for you.’ I believed her even though I still felt a panic. I had no time to be part of a practical joke. They would worry back at camp, especially Kadachi. I pleaded for her to stop and let me phone them at least. My mother could always out-insist me, especially when I became hysterical. I thought of leaping from the car, disregarding the danger, but I was flanked by two strong men. Roy had told everyone to carry matches with them so they could set fire to the place if anyone ever took them by force. A lot of good that would have done me. I was no longer in the mood for conversation and numbly rode the rest of the way in silence. My mind was blank as if I had been unplugged.

We pulled off the freeway somewhere in Long Beach and, after circling around some residential streets, pulled up at a modest house with several cars parked in the driveway. They surrounded me on the few steps into the house and then, with some other people, formed a corridor so that I had no choice but to go past them to the rear of the house. I didn’t know how many people were in the house or who they were. It didn’t look like a party.

I entered a small bedroom at the end of the hall. The room was tiny, carpeted and bare except for a blanket and a pillow. There was a piece of plywood covering the one small window. Through my mind flashed the story of The Collector. It was clear to me that I was going to be held prisoner for someone’s pleasure but I had no idea for what purpose.

The sight of the blanket and pillow made my heart stop. I knew this was the end of the line. When I looked up I saw half a dozen strangers standing around me. The door was shut. It was explained to me that I would have to speak with these people. Disbelief clogged my mind. They wanted to talk to me about the Movement. How could they talk to me about something they knew nothing about? I understood then that I would stay in that room until I converted them all or died — there would be no way to escape unless I could befriend one of them and gain sympathy to be set free. I wondered how that tiny room would look after the first year. I would know every crack on the ceiling, every sound from the outside. I looked for Dana. Surely he would help.

‘Can I see Dana please?’

‘I’ll see if I can find him for you. In the meantime, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?’ It was a woman who spoke. She was thirty-ish, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. She looked nervous, which gave me confidence. She left the room and two or three of the others trailed out with her.

Dana appeared at the door. His shirt was unbuttoned and he had a beer in his hand. He looked at me with mild surprise as if he couldn’t fathom why I might want to speak with him.

‘Dana, what do you think you’re going to prove with this? I’m going to be missed at camp by people who care about me. What sort of a kangaroo court do you intend to hold? You’re holding me prisoner. You can’t do that.’

Spectacularly unimpressed with my plea to his sense of justice, he suppressed a belch and scratched his chest. ‘I’m not the one who made the decision, you know. Your mother wants you here. It can’t hurt to listen.’

‘Listen? Under these conditions? Why didn’t you just arrange to have these people, whoever they are, come and meet me in a coffee shop somewhere? I would discuss anything with anyone at any time. That’s my job.’

‘Well, your anywhere and anytime and anyone seems to be here and now with these folks, doesn’t it?’

The years had changed him. I remembered the late-night talks, how, he had made my head spin with his unconventional ideas. He was the one who first infected me with the idea of breaking free. Now he had sold out like the rest of them, even getting a beer belly. There would be no point in talking to my mother. I knew how she was once she made up her mind about something. I asked to see Chuck. I knew he would not be able to conceal anything. His face always gave him away. He had always listened to my ideas with endless patience and took my troubles to heart. He supported and nurtured my individualism with pride, even the things that must have been hard to swallow. Surely he would understand me now. Yet when he came in and sat in the same place that Dana had been sitting, I wondered if I was going to come up against the same stone wall. Maybe they had some kind of routine worked out. We were no longer on the same team. God had divided us.

He didn’t give me the chance to wonder long. He took me in his arms. ‘We had to do this, honey.’ His voice broke and he cried, unable to speak for a while. ‘It’s a horrible thing to have to see you here like this. We want you to be free. I know that’s a hard thing to understand, that we’ve locked you up to free your mind. We wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t love you. All we want you to do is to listen to these people. They’re good people, honey, don’t be afraid. You know your mom would never let anyone hurt you. That’s why she wants you away from that group. We miss our girl — the one who’s so free, the one who was never afraid to stand up for what she believed.’

Now it was my turn to force back the tears so I could speak.

‘Will you stay with me?’ I was terrified of the thought of them leaving the next day for New York.

‘Of course we’ll stay with you.’ It was my mother. She must have been listening at the door. I didn’t hear her come in.

‘You aren’t going to New York?’

‘No, that was just a story to get you to come with us. We were so afraid that you would cancel again and now that we brought Sara out here —’

‘Sara? Is she that lady? The one in the shorts.’

My mother held a handkerchief for me to blow my nose as she had done when I was a child. ‘Now the other side, blow hard, you can do better than that.’ I laughed through the tears until Sara walked in with some others and my panic returned.

I decided to size up my captors. Mom and Chuck left the room. The others sat around me in a semi-circle. Danny had been in the Children of God. He said he’d been deprogrammed by Sara.

Doug had been in the Family. As soon as I learned this I tried to see the brother in him. Sometimes he revealed it but he had been in the Fallen World too long. The brother in him was only a flicker. Perhaps he would be the one I would befriend if I could convince him of Principle. He could help me escape back to Father. Would that make him my spiritual son? He did not want to talk about his spiritual parents or his missions. He said they were not important. What else could there be to talk about if we were going to talk about the Family?

Jill had been in the Family too, but not long enough to know very much.

I didn’t know quite what to make of Sara. She seemed to try to blend into the background and quite succeeded — all but those eyes of hers. Every time she caught my glance she pinned me to the spot.

Something was rattling around loose in my mind trying to find where it belonged. Maybe my whole mind was rattling around loose. I felt fatalistic — the controls were jammed on automatic pilot I felt almost... well, sportive, gay... having the burden of the destiny of mankind lifted from me temporarily. The ball was for once in somebody else’s court. A funny thought lifted the corners of my mouth. Old girl, you only get kidnapped once in life, that is, unless you’re terribly unlucky. You may as well have a good time. After all, you’ve got a captive audience.

I made myself comfortable. ‘It looks like we’ll be here for a while,’ I remarked breezily. ‘If you want to do your job properly, you’ll need some background information on me. I guess I’d better tell you about myself.’

Danny stretched out and groaned, then unclasped his hands from behind his neck and drew himself up on one elbow. ‘The only thing we need to know about you is already obvious. You’re brainwashed.’

‘You watch too many movies. Who do you think you are, Clint Eastwood? Where did you get this brainwashing stuff?’

‘Well, Queen-for-a-Day, what happened to your humility, love, understanding for mankind and all of that? If you were a real disciple of Christ, you’d be praying for me and setting a good example. I guess your dignity and integrity only work when you’re plugged into your little messiah.’

Doug shot him a look to keep quiet. Interesting. They were not united so I was bound to triumph. First rule of Principle. Unity forms the Foundation. I had the knowledge of Principle on my side, they had nothing, not even unity. Evidently Doug remembered something of it in trying to keep Danny in line.

Danny rolled onto his back and addressed the ceiling. ‘All right, go ahead and give us your testimony. I probably know it word-for-word already. I’ve heard enough of them and they’re all the same. Don’t tell me, let me guess — you went to India, came back and read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, had an abortion, became a militant feminist —’

Doug cut in, ‘Don’t mind him. Sure, I want to hear your story. It’s hard to be a Moonie. You wouldn’t be where you are unless you were a good person but don’t tell me that you joined because you realized it was the truth. None of us joined because we understood what they were teaching us.’

I began my story. To my surprise, it didn’t come out like I had planned it. It wasn’t my usual testimony. I told them about my life before, about the things I had loved and believed, things I had forgotten until then. I must have talked for two hours. Sara was pacing outside. Jill left for a while and when she came back in she asked me if I wanted anything to eat.

‘No thanks,’ I answered. ‘I had dinner with my mother.’ My mind drifted back to the camp for a moment. It seemed universes away. I wondered where I was. Whose house was this?

‘Is this Sara’s house?’

‘No,’ Jill answered. ‘It belongs to a woman named Alice.’

‘Can I see her?’

A woman was brought to the door. She hesitated before coming in. She was a friendly looking, middle-aged lady, the kind I’d seen by the hundreds on the lots, motherly, middle-class. I thanked her for letting us use her house. It seemed to me that it must have been a great inconvenience to have so many people in her home for such a long time. I indicated the boarded window. I was sorry for my being the cause of her house being turned upside-down. Tears formed in her eyes.

‘Honey, your parents love you very much. Everyone here is very concerned for you. We all want the best for you. Everything will turn out all right.’ She hesitated and phrased her question shyly. Jill says that you don’t want anything to eat. Can I bring you something else? Something to drink? How about a glass of warm milk?’

Warm milk, yech. I always hated it and gagged on it but I didn’t want to refuse her hospitality. For her sake I gratefully accepted. I was glad I did when I saw the look on her face. She couldn’t have been more happy if I’d given her a million dollars.

While she was fetching the milk, the conversation turned away from me and the kids talked among themselves. I couldn’t hate them. I wished that I could have joined in the conversation but it was as if they were speaking another language, things I hadn’t any knowledge of. Danny was sprawled out comfortably. Jill was teasing him and heaved the pillow at him. He propped himself up with it and turned to me.

‘So, this Moon is the messiah, eh?’

The devil himself couldn’t have been more satanic. What a way to talk about Father! It slashed my heart to hear him referred to as ‘Moon’. I would have to educate this guy if we were going to be able to talk at all. He would have to learn to call him Reverend Moon.

‘History will show if he is the messiah or not Reverend Moon has —’

‘I know, he has the potential of becoming the messiah but now he is in the John the Baptist position. I’ve heard it all before. Why don’t you just come out and say it. It will save us a good twenty-four hours. Don’t give me all the PR lines. I know you believe he’s the messiah.’

‘Well, I have to define what messiah means.’

‘Yeah, he has to be born in Korea between certain years — where’d you get all this information anyway? I could tell you that the messiah has to be 5’5”, have blue eyes and be born in Los Angeles in 1952. How’s that grab ya?’

‘God has revealed certain things to me.’

‘What’d He do, call you on the phone?’

‘Don’t you believe in God?’

‘Don’t try to get off the subject by attacking me. Yes, I believe in God but my God doesn’t go around talking to me. Just answer a simple question: did God call you on the phone?’

‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘Does that mean no?’

‘No, God did not call me on the phone. There, are you satisfied?’

‘Did He send you a telegram?’

Doug broke in. ‘What he means is how does God communicate with you. You said that God revealed certain things to you. How did you receive them?’

How did I receive them? I just knew. ‘I just knew.’

‘Maybe you just knew wrong?’

‘Divine Principle clearly outlines the qualifications for the messiah.’

‘Great, who wrote the Divine Principle?’

‘It was revealed by God.’

Doug looked at Danny. ‘You getting dizzy yet? I told you the Moonies have everything tied up and you can go round and round for ages without getting anywhere.’

Danny sat up and looked at me. ‘It’s no different than my group. We believed our leader was the end-time prophet Why? Because his doctrine said so. I thought God revealed it to me too.’

‘Well, you were misled. Divine Principle talks about that. You were in a cult’

‘And you are in one.’

Alice came in with the milk and my mother trailed in after her.

‘Are you getting sleepy? I brought you some things to sleep in.’ She produced a nightgown and slippers. My eyes popped out of my head. A nightgown no one had worn before. It was so beautiful, so elegant, and slippers. I couldn’t wait to put them on.

‘Where can I change?’ Surely I wasn’t expected to change in front of the men. I had heard that men in deprogrammings humiliated and raped sisters.

Danny and Doug stood to leave.

‘Good-night, Brothers.’

Doug said good-night but Danny couldn’t resist getting in one last little dig. ‘In case you didn’t know, we are not biologically related. Brothers is also not a common slang term — it’s a Moonie word. The sooner you stop talking like a Moonie, the sooner you’ll stop thinking like one. Do me a favour, hey? Every time you use a Moonie word and I stop you, try substituting an English word.’

‘Okay, good-night, Clint Eastwood. How’s that?’

He tossed the pillow at me.

Sara and I were alone. She was cautious but wanted to know how I felt, what I needed, what my fears and anticipations were. There was nothing about her or any of the others that would cause me to distrust them. I could see that they were sweet and honest people, just misled and being used by satanic forces. Mostly, my mind was on sleep. The opportunity to sleep away from masses of people, in clean bedding, in a quiet house, in my own nightdress, close to my parents — it was too much of a luxury to put off.

Sara asked if I would mind if she and Jill slept in the room with me. I laughed. Would I mind having only two sisters in the room with me? I was under the covers in a flash and the light was turned out. They left the door ajar. They were going to sit in the kitchen for a while and come to sleep later. Mom came in to say good-night. I made her promise me one last time that she would not leave for New York that she would be there when I awoke in the morning. I don’t remember if she left before I fell asleep.

With the window boarded over and no sunlight, I had no idea what time it was. By habit, I was completely awake. From totally off to totally on in a millisecond. I tried to fall asleep again but it was useless. I’d have to get up sometime and face the music. This was Sunday. I had probably missed Pledge. I couldn’t muster my thoughts to say a proper Pledge but I started in on a short prayer. Security and anxiety were marbled in my heart As long as we talked about Principle, I would be safe. They were not united and they did not have God’s truth. There was no way they could harm me. It would just be a matter of time. Sara came in.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you. I just came in to find my brush.’

‘It’s okay, I just woke up before you came in. What time is it anyway?’

‘Ten o’clock. Bet you’ve never had such a good sleep in the cult.’

Cult! That word hurled frustration, fear and anger at me. I stood up quickly and began to fold my bedding.

‘You want to take a shower?’

‘Yes, thank you. If I may.’

Sara showed me across the hall. What a luxurious bathroom. I felt like a princess. A fresh set of towels were set out for me and everything was spotless. A new toothbrush and a new tube of toothpaste, a hairbrush, even some cosmetics. I turned the shower on full blast. Sara yelled through the door.

‘There’s plenty of hot water. Let’s forget about the cold shower conditions, okay?’

‘Okay!’ How did she know about conditions? She obviously didn’t know very much. I couldn’t set a condition without clearing it with a central figure anyway. I stepped into the shower. Ah, I would have a hard time stepping out again. I watched the steam escape through a small window. I remembered in The Collector that the woman had thrown a note out the window in hopes that someone would pass by and read it. Maybe I could do that. But what good would it do? I was in the Fallen World now. Even if I could squeeze out the window and run away, to the police maybe, they’d just bring me back here. In Satan’s world who would help a Family member? I would have to work it another way. I didn’t have enough mental power to consider the future anyway. It was all I could do to concentrate on the present I was being bombarded with new-old sensations, the things in the bathroom, the cleanliness, the newness, the freshness, the comfort and security. I was reluctant to turn off the shower. My mother came in and talked to me through the shower door. She wanted to know if I needed shampoo or anything else. If nothing else, it was overwhelming to be with her in circumstances that seemed so normal. It was like being on holiday. Maybe I could postpone the inevitable confrontation. I felt a surge of energy and wanted to crow with pleasure. Sleeping until ten o’clock!

Mom brought me some clothes to change into, a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It felt deliciously wonderful and forbidden to wear them. I asked permission to keep the slippers on. She gave me a queer look

The bedding was put away and the room was bare again but for one blanket and a pillow. As I dried my hair with a towel, Danny asked me what I wanted for breakfast. I wasn’t in the mood for eating. We decided on coffee.

He brought it in and went out again for his Bible. Doug carried in a small case of papers. They wanted to talk about fundraising. Fair enough. Doug had been on MFT. I couldn’t understand why he asked me questions he already knew the answers to — questions about the Economic Restoration. It was as boring as giving lecture to answer him.

They couldn’t do anything to dislodge the truth. After all, they had nothing better to offer. Nothing better than beer, cigarettes, divorce — the Fallen World. I remembered how Larry had told me that even if God did not exist and if Father wasn’t the messiah, the gathering of dedicated people giving endlessly of themselves was bound to be the best thing yet.

‘Why do you lie on the streets when you beg money from people?’ Sara entered into our discussion.

‘I don’t lie. I never did. Lie about what?’

‘Lie about where the money was going.’

‘Everyone knew I was from the Unification Church. We even wore —’

‘— badges issued by President Salonen,’ Doug. ‘But most people didn’t understand that you were a Moonie. If they ask you outright if you are raising money for Reverend Moon, you deny it, don’t you?’

‘Never! I’m proud of Father. Why would I conceal the truth?’

‘You lied to Tom Evans.’ Now my mother. Okay, I made a sales pitch in the gallery of someone who worked with my mother and by the time I realized who he was I couldn’t retract what I had said.

‘Okay, so I lied once.’

‘Once!’ Everyone cried out in unison.

I was not hurt for myself. I was trying to shield Father from their attack. Nothing they could say or do to me would worry me, but they must not blaspheme.

Sara said, You don’t even know when you’re lying and when you’re not. You weren’t like that before. Somebody taught you a little trick called Heavenly Deception.’ Danny chimed in, Yeah, we did the same thing in the Children of God but we called it Spoiling Egypt.’

Sara continued ‘And in Scientology they call it Fair Game and in the Divine Light Mission they call it something else and I call it a con game. How could you tell people the truth about where the money was going when you don’t even know yourself? What about your little 40-day condition that was extended? Where did that money go?’

How did she know about that? I told her what I had found out. The money went to buy some land.

‘That land was already paid for, honey. The money you raised went straight into Moon’s pocket for some little private business deals. Wake up, Erica, you’ve been had.’

I turned to Doug. ‘You know the importance of fundraising. It is to pay indemnity. We have to restore tribal, national and other levels.’

Doug turned to his case of papers and fished out a page from Master Speaks. He read to me from it that Father said all of that indemnity was paid already. I demanded to see the page. Master Speaks. The first thing that hit me seeing it was the format of the page. The familiarity of it energized me. He snatched it back.

‘Don’t space out on me. I know you are visually programmed. The sight of the thing reinforces your programming. Just read these lines.’

I read them. How did I know the paper wasn’t a forgery. ‘Mother, how could you want me to believe people as low as these. Look at Sara. Look at the way she’s dressed, the way she speaks.’ Sara stiffened.

‘Please don’t smoke in front of me either,’ I demanded. How satanic to fill the room with smoke. She didn’t say a word, just stubbed out her cigarette and put the ashtray outside the door.

‘I won’t smoke in front of you if it bothers you but I’ll tell you this, you spoiled brat, it’s not the smoke that bothers you. It’s this holier-than-thou little goodie-two-shoes routine of yours. Why don’t you come back down to earth with the rest of us mortals. You can’t even answer simple questions. How thin your perfection is when you’re outside your self-centred cult. You think you’ve become more God-like? Is God so arrogant? You think you’re saving the world with Moon’s money? What do you know about responsibility? Do you tend the sick, the poor, do you ever pay income tax?’

‘I’m a missionary without income. I have nothing to pay tax on.’

‘Maybe, but you have to file every year with the government anyway. When was the last time you filed?’

‘Okay, so I didn’t file last year, big deal.’

The morning dragged on. They kept talking from man’s point-of-view. I kept talking from God’s point-of-view.

We broke for lunch and, while we ate at least, the crew eased up on me. As soon as I put my plate down, Danny looked over at me through narrowed eyes.

‘So, Moon’s still the messiah, huh?’

I had to fight to keep the food from coming back up. There was just no point going on like this. We could discuss until Satan’s restoration and they still wouldn’t make sense.

‘You can say what you want but you’ll never make me lose my love for Father.’

‘Erica, when we point things out, just assess them as they are, at face value. If the Bible says one thing and Doctrine X contradicts it, then that doctrine is wrong if it claims to be harmonious with the Bible. You click off when anything threatens Moon. You have no ego, no mind of your own. You’ve got two possibilities: a) Moon is the messiah, b) Moon is not the messiah. If it helps you, let’s not say Moon, we’ll say Mr X instead. Now, he’s either the messiah or he’s not. He can’t sort of be the messiah, agreed?’

It took us a long time to get on equal footing. Finally he got me to accept, for the sake of argument, the hypothetical.

‘If he is the messiah, we can all pack up and go home. If he’s not the messiah and has claimed to be, then what is he?’

I couldn’t fill in the blank.

‘If he’s not the messiah and he’s claimed to be, then he’s a fraud. Now, how can we determine if he is or not? Glad you asked that question, folks. Let’s make it really easy on him and not even use the acid test. We’ll just let him cut his own throat. He says that God is eternal, absolute and unchanging, further that he is the second Christ. It follows, seeing as God doesn’t change His mind, Moon must jive with what the first Christ said about Christ’s mission.’

This was not so difficult to accept as the initial point. Once he got rolling, I could follow him after a fashion. As soon as he pulled out the Bible to substantiate what he said, to prove that Jesus and Father did not agree, I was hopelessly lost again. Every time he made a point, I would do a quick scan through Purpose/Fall/Restoration.

I was aware of the binary functioning of my brain. Each question entered and was shuffled off down yes/no corridors until it met the proper answer or a dead end. Something like a pinball machine. I worked the flippers like mad but the balls just rolled down the chute. Danny would send the ball shooting out again and I made the same scan through Principle with the same result. Sometimes a phantom answer would appear but it would vanish either before or after the question passed through. I couldn’t hold both a question that didn’t compute and a phantom answer that didn’t compute. One of them faded as I concentrated on the other.

Danny was well versed in the Bible. If only Kadachi or Alex could have been with me. Surely they would know the answers. There had to be Divine Principle reasons why the Bible was wrong, I just didn’t know them. After a while my attention scattered. When we talked about the Family, I felt my mind become agile again but as soon as Danny started up with his Bible, my brain felt like cotton and my eyelids started to droop.

Some people came in the room quietly like they were entering a theatre after the show had started. I felt like I was on the operating table in an arena for medical students. Bright lights and someone saying, ‘Here we see the soul exposed, badly lacerated. The heart is bleeding and the mind is twisted. Some of this will be corrected through surgery but the patient will probably never be healthy again.’

One of the visitors, a middle-aged man with a kind face picked up Danny’s Bible and leafed through it. I braced myself for a raging born-again argument ‘You believe you’re doing God’s will, don’t you?’ Probably next he was going to ask me if I knew God’s will by telephone or telegram. I set my jaw. It’s too long a story to explain — if I told you that I know God when I see Father, you’d never understand.

‘You’d do whatever Moon asked you to, wouldn’t you?’ ‘He would never ask me to do anything that was not the will of God.’

‘What if he asked you to kill your mother?’

‘ — ’

‘Why don’t you answer me?’

‘ — ’

‘Forget about answering that question. Your silence tells me what I really wanted to know: you actually have to sit and think about whether or not you’d kill your mother if a man told you to. A man, Erica, not a god, and you are under his control.’

He snatched up the Bible. The sound of the turning pages was like trees falling in the forest.

‘“If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his own family, he has disowned the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” The Bible says to help the poor, to help other people. Jesus didn’t tell his followers to give Him their possessions. He told them to distribute them among the needy. Do you believe that is a good thing to do?’

I nodded.

‘Well, then, that makes you better than True Father, doesn’t it? You want to give to the poor and your messiah only wants to take everything for himself.’

I was too weary to begin to explain to him the meaning of the Economic Restoration. When Jesus was on earth, it was the mission of the messiah to serve mankind. For the Second Coming, it became the duty of mankind to serve the messiah.

He wouldn’t let go of that point. That makes you a better person than your Master of the Universe, doesn’t it?

‘You have more compassion than he does. You don’t see anything wrong with him keeping everything for himself?’

I thought back to Father’s visit that had left me so desolated. I remembered that the brothers and sisters from the centres drove through the night to get back to their centres and sleep only an hour or two before having to drive back for Father’s morning address. Meanwhile, Father was sleeping in silk sheets. He could have at least let them sleep in the garage. One driver fell asleep and his van had gotten into an accident.

I began to cry. The man holding the Bible was looking at me waiting for an answer. I couldn’t speak. He put the Bible down and cradled me. So long I had been giving, giving, giving everything I had. He rocked me gently and whispered, ‘Don’t worry, baby, we’re right here. Don’t be afraid. We’re all going to see you through this, doll.’ He didn’t try to hush me, he just let me cry. I tried picturing True Father in my mind but I could not see him comforting me like this. I couldn’t believe that even in the Spirit World he was beside me. All I knew was the here-and-now of things and their realness. Fear gripped me — so this is how Satan would win me — with confusion, with trying to soften the warrior in me.

I heard myself make the man promise he would come back the following day. When he went to the door, I got up and extended my hand, Moonie-style, to shake hands with him. He grabbed me in a bear hug and ruffled my hair, ‘You’re gonna be all right, kid.’

With the others, discussions went on without either side gaining. I retreated under the blanket. Only my head showed, propped on the pillow. Doug and Sara and Jill continued. They would go through a point and ask me to clarify my side of it. I had just not studied enough, not read enough Master Speaks. There were answers to these things but I did not know them. The things they asked me didn’t matter. I believed in Father.

Sara asked me, ‘What I want to know is why you need so much proof to get out of the group. Lord knows you didn’t need any proof to get into it If I ask you if two plus two is five, do you need to look it up? No! You just use the common sense you had as a child. So why, if I show you things that don’t add up by Moon’s system, can’t you see it?’

Danny came over and ripped the blanket off me. ‘It’s the dead of summer, you know. The rest of us are sweating. What are you, a foetus? Sit up and join the human race.’

I grabbed the corner of the blanket and we each tugged our end of it. ‘Well, I see you have enough strength to fight for your baby blanket, don’t you have enough strength to fight for your mind? We’ve been sitting here hour after hour force-feeding you. Where’s your interest? Some disciple you are. Let’s assume that Moon is the messiah and we’re satanic. Don’t you have a lot to learn from us? You should be picking our brains for all we’ve got, go back to your cult and show them the blueprint of the opposition. You’re a lousy Moonie, I’ll say, and you’re not much of a human being. Your brain doesn’t work. We ask a simple question and you either space out or tell us something Moon said. I think we might as well just cover you up with this blanket and stick you six feet under, babe.’

He smiled. ‘But it’d be a shame, ’cause I know you’re in there, somewhere. I know because I’ve been through it. I’m only tough on you because someone’s gotta do it, otherwise we’d sit here playing games. Honest, I’m really a decent guy.’ We both started laughing. ‘We drew straws to see who would play the part of the heavie. Doug and I were arguing about it, weren’t we bro? We both accused the other of getting the part last time. I’ll tell you what, you think he’s sweet? He can be a worse son-of-a-bitch than I.’ That was signal for them to start rough-housing. We all needed a break. I went to the bathroom.

I closed the bathroom door. I’d had chances to be alone for a few moments like this in the Family but it wasn’t the same. I was never alone-alone. I looked at myself in the mirror, something I so rarely did that I knew Father’s face better than I knew my own. I noticed my locket. It had been given to me by Maria and was engraved: ITPN. In True Parents’ Name. Kadachi-san explained to me that it was blasphemy to abbreviate Parents’ name even in that much-used phrase that we signed our letters with. I wore it with some embarrassment but refused to take it off because it was given to me by my spiritual child. Maria got kicked out of the Family. Dr Baum ordered me not to talk to her anymore, even when she called up desperate to be allowed back into the Family. She was so exhausted after Yankee Stadium that she had stayed in bed for three days and Dr Baum turned her out for a problem of attitude. It tore me in two to have to refuse to come to the telephone when she called up pleading.

I unlocked the chain. That same chain had once held the cross given to me by Father Peter. Reverend Kropf made me remove it because the cross was a symbol of Satan’s victory. Inside the locket were pictures of Father and Mother. I looked at them.

I had heard that deprogrammers were likely to deface pictures of Parents and nothing could be worse, but I liked them all — even, perhaps especially, Danny. Deprogrammers could torture brothers and sisters but we had to protect Parents to the death. I removed the pictures and swallowed them to save them from harm. Everything was out of focus in my mind. As we talked in the room, the obvious Principle answers were in my mind. They were my mind. But at some point, I don’t know when, a second answer started to appear, a phantom that would hover and then disappear like the tiny stars you can only see if you look slightly away from them. The two answers would passively cancel one another and only the question would remain until I could no longer remember it. I looked at the locket in my hand. I was of two minds, two hearts. It seemed a millstone around my neck. I left it on the toilet tank.

‘Let’s talk about this messiah of yours,’ Sara. ‘Do you know anything about his past?’

I did. He had seen Jesus when he was sixteen, had been in prison before he began his ministry.

‘Did you know that the university where he claims to have gotten a degree in electrical engineering has no record of him? No record by either name. His real name isn’t Sun Myung Moon, you know. He changed it from a name that means shining dragon — sounds more like the Beast than the messiah. He’s been married before, arrested for indecent acts. He’s a common thug, a businessman, a criminal. He’s a pimp and he’s got kids like you out on the street hustling for him. He even claims to be a Jew, doesn’t he?’

‘Well, a descendant of the House of David. I guess that would make him a Jew.’

‘Funny since he claims that the Orientals are descendants of Japheth and the Jews of Shem. How do you feel about him saying that the six million who died under Hitler died because it was God’s will. This coming from a Jew.’

‘You answer that yourself. You’re the guys who claim to have all the answers.’

‘Sit up,’ Sara urged. ‘Come on, don’t cop out now. You should be defending your faith. There’s nothing wrong with thinking about things. Think! If you’re trying to find the answer in the DP, you won’t find it because the answer is just not there. Two and two will never equal five.’

My mind was elsewhere. I looked at the stack of papers. The reverse of an article we had just read was on the top of the heap. It showed a reproduction of a painting of Jesus on the cross. It was exquisite. It reminded me of the fresco I used to study in the Greek Orthodox cathedral Jesus of infinite tenderness and dignity, Jesus who by His deeds gave meaning to life. Across the stack on another part of the floor was a picture of Reverend Moon. His pudgy, glistening face peered up at me. My eyes went from one to the other, from Jesus to Reverend Moon and back again.

Sara and the others seemed at a standstill. Sara picked up the Bible and leafed through it. She stopped at a page in Genesis and handed the book to me. ‘Read that. Start with Genesis 2:24.’

I read aloud: ‘Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed. Now the serpent was more subtle than any other —’

‘Stop right there,’ said Sara.

I looked up at her.

‘Don’t you see it? Adam and Eve were husband and wife before the Fall, not brother and sister; husband and wife, one flesh. They did not fall because they had sex before becoming perfect. And further, Lucifer fell before them because it says that Eve was tempted by a serpent, not the Archangel.’

I looked back at the page. My vision sharpened with an almost audible click. My face burned, my blood was pounding through my body. I looked back up at her. Sara was waiting.

What happened next happened clearly, frame by frame, but was all contained in a split second.

What was spectacular was not the question nor the answer but a total sensation that I had to acknowledge and identify. Doubt, I called it. Doubt. Perhaps I could entertain the possibility that what they were saying was true. I felt myself peering over a cliff. The abyss was so without light and without bottom that the shock weakened me. I feared I would fall and equally feared remaining on the edge. But no sooner did the shock seize me than I found myself on the opposite side.

The split second came as I was handing the Bible back to Sara. ‘Well, then, what was the Fall?’

‘I’ll tell you my interpretation but there are many. Everyone in this house would tell you something different and some don’t even have an opinion or couldn’t care less. That’s all okay. That’s what life’s about.’

It never occurred to me that people could have different opinions or no opinion at all. I was sure that these people would try to destroy the Divine Principle and then unveil their truth. Subconsciously, I must have believed that it would be the antithesis of goodness and that ... what a totally astounding idea that I could choose what I wanted to believe. This last idea came as Sara explained that there was no rush on truth, that I would have the rest of my life to think about things. Still, most of my mind believed that the non-Family force had the scoop on the Fall.

Sara handed me back the Bible and pointed to Genesis 3:5. It read: ‘For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’

She stated simply, ‘If you are tempted to place yourself in the throne of power you lose your innocence and you learn the true nature of good and evil.’

At dinner-time my face was still burning. The message came in from the kitchen to find out what I wanted to drink with dinner – milk, juice, water, coke.

‘Make it a gin and tonic.’

‘Getta load of her,’ Danny nudged Doug. ‘Queen-for-a-Day is having herself a drink. Hey, no drinking on the job.’

‘Well then, we’ll take a break — and while we’re at it we can call a truce until dinner’s over. What do you say? I won’t call you Clint Eastwood and you won’t ask me if Reverend Moon is the messiah.’

I felt frisky and in a mood for celebrating something but I had nothing to celebrate. I didn’t want to cope with anything. I concentrated on my dinner.

‘Compliments to the chef!’ I called out. ‘Must’ve been you, Mom, no one cooks like you.’

Different sensations were rushing me, things I’d never known could be sensations — like spontaneity. Not checking the catalogue in my brain before or after a thought or action. Sara sat next to me with her plate.

‘Yeah, your mom is a great cook. I’ll tell you, she’s a great lady. Sure it was easy for you to make the choice between your family and the cult because you never lose your family so it’s not a real choice. You can cut them off, mistreat them, but they always love you. Moon wouldn’t know you if he tripped over you. You couldn’t get through to him on the phone now if you wanted him to come and rescue you. But your real parents? They’d go through anything to rescue you and believe me, they already have. I know you couldn’t have looked your mother in the face and told her that Mrs Moon is your True Mother. You’ve got a lot to learn about parenthood. You know how Moon is always saying that his members are more loving than anyone else and they have ‘Parental Heart’ — honey, you could never fathom what real caring is. You’ve been in a make-believe world. Moon used you. Your parents never stopped caring, never gave up on you.’

My tears were hot They had nothing to do with what she was saying. The thought of my mother’s love made me feel that I could love myself, forgive myself, cleanse myself of the never-ending guilt I had felt in the Family. For once I could feel that I had given of myself, that I was a good person. No matter what Sara said, I was not a spoiled brat. I was sincerely trying to do the best thing. I felt the two of me, one pitiful and the other pitying.

Doug joined us. He had a VOC lecture book in his hand. ‘You know, what really gets me is how you went on and on so self-righteously about Moon being against communism. What do you or anyone else in the group really know about it? Did you know that Moon uses the identical methods of indoctrination? You have the world so sharply divided between Satan and God, black and white. Do you think that fascism is any better than communism? Was Hitler any better than Stalin? I can see the Moonies on trial saying, “I was only following orders”. What about democracy?’ He paused and fished in his case for some papers.

‘You need only one error in the Divine Principle to make it false. We’ve shown you hundreds. It’s a strange thing about mind control — if you demolish most of the doctrine and leave just a tiny bit standing, the mind hangs onto it.’

Evening brought another guest. Mom had been talking about a young man who had been deprogrammed from the Divine Light Mission. She was glad that he had been able to arrange the time to come and talk with me. He talked about his job, asked how I was feeling, stayed away from heavy subjects. It was hard for me to remember how conversations were supposed to go. By the time he got to the end of a question, I had forgotten the first part of it. He sensed that I was bleary.

He set up a tape recorder for me to hear a speech by his former guru. A man with a funny accent was saying something like: when you have evil thoughts, push them out of your mind. Because your mind troubles you, give it to me. It won’t trouble me.

The young man rolled his eyes ceiling-ward. We all laughed yet it was a frightening tape. How could you be told what and what not to think? Imagine someone telling people not to use their —

Father ‘I am your thinker. I am your brain.’

Lectures: Have no give and take with negative thoughts.

It suddenly wasn’t so funny. Change the accent a little and —

The young man nodded when I looked up at him with this realization spilling out of me. The room was filled with people. Such a small room, so many conversations like a cocktail party. No one noticed the crucial understanding in that exchanged glance. It didn’t matter. In the Family everything had to be noticed, examined, accounted for and nothing belonged to me. It was always public knowledge, any private thought. This understanding was for me alone, accountable to me, a me exists. In the Family everything was given equally ultimate significance. Things do have different values. So no one noticed me. So what.

I was resting my head in my mother’s lap and she stroked my hair distractedly. She was engrossed in a conversation with Doug. Jill and Sara were laughing about something in the corner. The others were getting up to go into the kitchen. The young man from the Indian cult stretched out between my mother and the wall.

Why hadn’t Father told us about these other groups — so many of them? Sara had read me the testimonies of people I thought were all ex-Family members. Turns out they were from several other groups. All else aside, Father should have explained to us the truth about cults and mind control for our own sake.

‘Would you like to go out with me sometime?’ The young man had a nice smile.

I laughed. ‘Under the circumstances, that’s a very tempting offer.’ The escape I had wanted. I was surprised when I found myself telling him to call me at my mother’s house to arrange a date. Would I be living there?

‘Wherever you are, I’ll find you. All the employees where I work are going to Disneyland for an evening, you know, when they close the park down for a private party. Would you like to do something like that?’

Be anonymous again? Be a part of life with no one looking over my shoulder? Laugh at simple things?

How had it happened? It seemed that as soon as I entertained the possibility of something other than Principle, my prison vanished. I was free. Confused but free.

What about True Parents? I loved Father and could see him accusing me of being Judas. I pictured the photos from the locket. I visualized the image of Parents deep inside me. They would stay there until I dealt with them later. I would deal with everything later.

Before I fell asleep, Jill came in. She sat down where I was snuggled under the covers. ‘Know what I did the other night? I went down to the ocean. I kicked off my shoes and walked along the shore. I found a place to sit and I just sat there feeling the wind on my face, listening to the waves, smelling the salt air, letting the feeling of the sea surround me. I thought to myself: I am free. I can think anything I want.’

I was jealous of her. How wonderful to go to the sea. To sit at the shore and belong to no one. That most sacred and private place between me and me had been violated. I wanted the salt air to cleanse me, renew me.

What do you do when a huge section of your life is spliced out and the two ends fit neatly back together as if that time had never been — when you wonder where that lost time went but you’re still in it like a phantom — when you wonder who that other person in the time spliced out was but at the same time realize that that other person is the most familiar core of what you are made of — when you are relieved to the point of euphoria and terrified at the same time (both for no apparent reason and for endless reasons) — when you can’t go back to being that old self at the past end of the splice and certainly aren’t the self you haven’t been yet at the future end — and the reality of the matters at hand is so crushing that it requires the equivalent of a session of parliament in your brain to decide if you want a cup of coffee and when none of that really matters because everything emanates a calm like the warbling of birds after the bombing has stopped and you know the bombs will never fall again.

Another good night of sleep. In the morning we breakfasted and talked. I was aware that I no longer had any opinions about anything. I was blank. The blast had taken everything out by the roots. I was amazed that Danny and Doug disagreed on various things. The outside world was now my world and it was not united. Doug was talking to me about switching over from my absolutist frame of mind. He said that the doctrine wasn’t so important but the way I thought. Not which things were painted black and which were painted white, because these varied from cult to cult. All ex-members, he said, had to get away from thinking in black-and-white terms and start looking at the shades of grey. I was miles ahead of him. I was dealing with technicolour. Let out of a dark hole into the blazing sunlight, the eyes of my mind winced closed.

I didn’t want to leave the deprogramming room for the time. I didn’t feel deprogrammed. I was to learn that deprogramming only starts the mind thinking again, asking questions. It doesn’t provide the answers.

I was brought into the living room. The team was relaxed, limbs draped over the furniture, every comment followed by a soft round of chuckles. The world had never looked so wholesome, so inviting. It seemed that milk and honey, or sunlight or some tangible substance of peace was flowing out of everything.

Dana and his wife stopped by. They were on their way back to France. Dana told me a little bit about the concerts he was doing. His wife told me about her dress when I admired it. Alice showed me pictures of her children. Tears still formed in her eyes when she looked at me and several times she put her arm around me to say what she couldn’t find words for. She promised me that I would have a wonderful life. I hoped I didn’t look to her like someone who needed a glass of warm milk. The drifts of conversation carried jokes and casual swearing I found offensive. It was all too much for a mind that was racing nowhere fast. I wandered back into the deprogramming room and curled up on the floor with the pillow. Danny followed me in and plunked himself down.

‘Wanna talk?’

‘Sure.’

I didn’t, really. I just wanted to absorb the racing.

‘Spit it out.’

It wasn’t a matter of spitting, it was a matter of running to all the vast frontiers of my brain at once with a sieve to catch evaporating thoughts. It came out something like this:

‘Dan, I want you to watch me. I think I might be too clever, like I might be fooling you — or me — or something. I want to be deprogrammed or not deprogrammed. Maybe you know what I mean.’

‘Sorry, lady, I know what you’re going through but I can’t help you. You have to do this one alone. The ball, as they say, is in your court.’

‘What did you do after you left the Children of God?’

‘Why, so you can do the same? Sorry, I ain’t gonna be your new messiah. Besides, I don’t think you’d want to do what I did. When I found out that Moses David wasn’t the end-time prophet, I got sick. I just started to vomit. I was in bed shivering and sweating and Sara stayed up with me. It was a long time before I could go back and understand what had happened. I floated a lot. Floating means when you snap back into your programme. You’re probably not far enough out to snap back into it but when you do — it’s an eerie feeling —’

‘Like being back in the cult but not being there? Like phantoms?’

‘Like phantoms.’

Danny stood up and moved for the door. ‘Piecing things back together takes a long time. You have to learn to be patient with yourself — like when you get your leg out of a cast, you can’t run on it right away.’

I could hear the others laughing in the living room. I stared at the carpet. My senses were like bees out of the hive. I could see the carpet. The blue was so intense I could almost hear it. I could take the feel of it under my hands. I could feel my heart beat. A few moments, a few precious moments of awareness. I would have a lifetime of them. Cradling myself I thought no one, no one can ever take this away from me. Yet hadn’t someone already done that? Yes, I would have to have patience even to find the place to begin again.

‘Honey?’ My mother was standing at the door. ‘Can you come here for a minute? We want to ask you something.’ In the next room Chuck was sitting on the bed. Mom shut the door. The floor was piled high with a tangle of clothes spilling out of half-open suitcases. My mother sat on the edge of the bed, choosing her words gingerly.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Like Lazarus. Whatever the question, the answer is probably going to be “why not”?’

‘Erica, we have to decide what you’re going to do now. You know that you have all the time in the world and that we’re always here for you but Sara thinks it would be a good idea for you to go home with her for a while. Some time to rest and learn some more. She has answers we simply don’t have. There is so much more you have to sort out for yourself.’

The thought appealed to me. Of course, just like the ladies in nineteenth-century novels who took a cruise or sojourned at an auntie’s when they were grieving. But on the heels of this came an image of Sara’s house. So many new things to cope with. She would have friends visiting. The thought of having to face anyone new was staggering. Of having to fill my time. If only I could hide away, but where? I didn’t want to see anyone I knew, not even my sister, until I was better. Before I could finish the thought, a tidal wave of tears tore everything loose. They were not tears of self-pity, frustration or grief. They were not tears of relief. They were tears I was born with. I wanted to cry to the bottom of them so I would never have to cry again. I don’t know how long we were there, Mom and Chuck crying too before Sara poked her head in the door.

‘Mind?’ she abbreviated.

Mom and Chuck exited. Sara curled up on the bed.

‘Enough clothes for the first six months, eh? I’ll say. It’s been what, two or three days? You sure don’t travel light ’ I found a sleeve of something to mop my face with.

‘Coming to New York with me?’ Sara never cut any fancy footwork, never introduced a subject. She searched my face. The invitation was sincere.

I grinned. ‘When do we leave?’

pages 228-236

2

When you hurt yourself somehow, fall down or get in a fight, you walk away thinking you’re feeling pain until you wake up the next morning and the soreness has set in and you puff up and turn every colour of the rainbow. I was going along for a while thinking, jeez, there’s not much to this when the shock wave returned from its journey of reverberation and smacked me. I was so bottomed-out physically that I didn’t get to the mental problems for a long time.

Most of the first month I slept I’d get up at ten and be back in bed by three in the afternoon. It was hot and humid. I shared Sara’s bedroom, a converted attic. There were windows at both ends under the eaves and the heavy summer wind passed through the room. Whenever I closed my eyes and put my head on the pillow, I felt I was falling into a thick darkness with such a strong force that there was no way to hold back. Sleep locked me into a blackness violently swarming with images. I would wake up screaming or imagining that I had screamed. No matter where she was in the house, Sara would hear me make the slightest stir and would appear at my side to put on the light, smooth down the covers and listen to me until I was quiet again.

It was during that time that I became familiar with a nightmare that recurred for years. A black ocean devoid of life. No matter how far inland I was, the waves would find me and suck me out to the depths. It was not the water that frightened me because I could breathe in it. It wasn’t a fear of sharks or sea monsters. Not even a microbe lived in the sterile inkyness. It was the power and vastness of it.

I was extremely sensitive to light and sounds. Crowds made me dizzy; the faces would blend and I’d grow faint. My memory and attention spans were useless. I couldn’t read or converse for more than a few minutes without getting completely worn down and needing a rest Reading a newspaper article could take an hour. How would I ever catch up on the world since my Rip Van Winkle sleep in the cult? I even had to learn about the things I’d not been isolated from but merely blanked out of my perception like the changes in clothing styles.

Sara had to keep reminding me to think for myself, to not look to her for opinions, to not soak up whatever I heard. But she had little trouble getting me to try new things. Boating, skating, concerts, dancing, water-skiing — but not all things came easily. Remembering how I had served Kadachi-san and all the guests at headquarters house soft drinks and had never been allowed to drink something so fine myself, I swore I’d drink the stuff until I burst In the cult I had served from bottles and didn’t know that drink cans had since changed and were manufactured with pop tabs. I saw the cans in the fridge and balked. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to figure out how to open one and didn’t venture to try for several months. I never knew when I would excel and when I would fail, when the next step would be on rotten floorboards or on no floor at all. I glossed over with what I hoped was a sophisticated appearance by remembering things from the old Erica.

Sara read me as if I had neon signs flashing what I needed. When something needed to be resolved, she never hesitated to draw me into discussion but dancing the polka at Polish weddings, sitting on the front stoop eating watermelon, taking a martini break from a shopping spree, washing the dog and chasing each other around the yard with the hose — these did more for me than years of psychotherapy ever could have.

I shuddered to think if I had been institutionalized instead of deprogrammed I would have been in a hospital for years getting worse. Sara knew what she was doing. She had first gotten involved when her brother fell prey to a nomadic cult and disappeared. He got arrested hundreds of miles away and when they went to claim him, they found a total stranger who spoke in Bible verse, wore a long robe and had been surviving by scrounging food from garbage tins. After straightening him out, handling a Moonie was a piece of cake.

She took me out to meet people — seemed like she knew everyone in the whole state. We gave talks about mind control. We’d pull into a small town, talk to the school kids, the local paper, the service club luncheon and then have the whole town turn out in the evening to hear us speak at the church. What a welcome to the Fallen World! Total strangers listening to me with tears in their eyes, pinching my cheeks, giving me their addresses in case I ever needed them for anything. The warmth and attention were wonderful but I started to feel like a circus exhibit.

Sara started doing deprogrammings at home. It was my turn to say: I’ve been in your shoes. Every time I watched a deprogramming, another huge burden was lifted. They didn’t all break out of mind control in the same way. Kara from Ananda Marga let out screams that shook the house and Billy from The Way calmly balanced his Bible on his knee, took off his spectacles to wipe them and observed, ‘Well, it certainly appears that I’ve been deceived.’ Some said nothing but flushed in stunned silence. It was always miraculous to see the real person suddenly rush into the robot shell.

We worked together on floating until each person learned to handle it alone. We recognized the symptoms in one another instantly and instinctively. Sometimes the eyes would glaze over or the person would drop out of conversation. My own mind was like a minefield. I never knew when I’d trip an explosion. Sometimes I’d catch it like a contact high from one of the others, sometimes a phrase, a snatch of a song, maybe an unresolved bit of doctrine and always parking lots. Going to stores was a trial. I’d automatically check the lot for the flow, for the clues from Spirit World. If no one else was around, I’d work myself into a panic. I’d think what if, what if. If they are right, I’ve been deceived by Satan. My mind would start pacing and sniffing its old haunt, Purpose/Fall/ Restoration, and I’d snap back, or only half snap back and be spread between here and nowhere.

The thing to do was trace the floating back and resolve the problem that had triggered it In the cult they told us to cut off doubt Sara encouraged it Challenge, weigh, delve, decide. In the cult they told us that everything about the other world was evil. Sara told us not to destroy our good memories and benefits from the cult, people we loved, things we had learned and overcome.

Floating was only the punctuation, not the constant

The constant was exhilaration. The intensity of it was sure to illuminate the rest of my life. Every time I encountered something, I considered it as if I had never known of it before. There is an essence one can sometimes feel for a quiver of a moment when he looks at the stars. I felt that all the time. The smallest thing was not without its glory. Being able to sit down without permission, without guilt Buying a postage stamp with my own money and being able to send a letter of my very own thoughts to anyone. Feeling the wind, seeing the buildings, smelling the earth, letting my imagination run free. And being able to say no.

This expanding, more than anything else, combated floating. I simply could not fit back into that narrow mental slot. When I realized that, I knew that even though I was not completely healed, it was time for me to get back into the world.

I was prepared to enter society at the bottom rung, having been used to meeting handicaps that I never knew I had until I found myself in a situation for which I was not equipped. It took me a long time to realize that part of my handicap at this stage was being too advanced. By having met my weaknesses and shortcomings I had become stronger and wiser than most people who simply refused to admit to human frailty. I kept thinking I was wrong because I didn’t fit in but it was still the same old world that didn’t make sense.

There were practical problems that hit me left and right How to explain that blank in my resume when applying for a job. Say that I was off on independent study in some remote place or tell the truth and risk losing out on the job? Getting a driver’s licence, opening a bank account, getting references to rent a flat — meeting new people, especially dating, I always wondered if I should tell the story or not If I didn’t tell it, I would remain a stranger and if I did, I’d have to tell the whole thing knowing that when I’d finished, the person was not likely to have changed his view that cults are harmless groups of people who are better off where they are. When I was speaking to groups in New York, the people had been friendly because they pitied me. Now I was learning that no one really understood.

One of my old friends invited me to a high school reunion party. I mingled: a singer, a local politician, a craftsman, a journalist One woman arrived late. The talk quieted down as she made her entrance and hellos. ‘Sorry I’m late, guys. You’ll never believe what held me up. I stopped at a gas station and some Moonie came up trying to sell me flowers!’

The whole room burst into laughter. I looked down at my drink. The girl I’d been talking to turned to resume the conversation. ‘And what have you been up to since I last saw you, Erica?’

The thing that got me most upset was when people asked why I had become a Moonie and then didn’t notice at all how uncomfortable I was in answering. They’d never think to ask in casual conversation, tell us about how you became a quadriplegic in your motorcycle accident or tell us about watching your best friend get blown to bits in Vietnam and, oh, pass the chips, won’t you?

I found out that my brother had tried to foil the deprogramming. He thought my mother was over-reacting and shouldn’t treat me like a baby by bailing me out of trouble. He thought it was a fad, a phase I’d pass through. He wanted to phone me at the camp to tip me off to get out before she came to get me. Luckily, he wasn’t motivated enough to follow through. When I saw him, I asked him about it He scoffed at the idea that I had been brainwashed. Okay, big brother, what if you are right and I had just happened to, say, be into self-mutilation and your little plan had worked? He was unmoved. According to him, my great failing was that I just hadn’t been cool, hadn’t been doing the in thing, something I was still guilty of. I decided, after a time, to put my thoughts to him in a letter. The letter came back to me. He had scrawled across it ‘I’m rubber, you’re glue ...’ from the rhyme we used to taunt each other with as children ‘… anything you say bounces off me and sticks to you’. Welcome home, sis.

Surely someone would understand. I went to speak to a rabbi who reduced me to tears by ridiculing me for having toyed with Christianity and then to a minister who said I would have never become a Moonie if I had studied Christianity better. Father Peter was too embarrassed to discuss it I was barking up the wrong tree. It wasn’t a religious problem but a psychological one.

I finally came across a lukewarm article on the subject in an obscure publication and wrote to the author. He referred me to the only person he knew who had any knowledge of cults. I went to see this professor and gladly consented to having our talk taped for use in his book. A totally misleading sliver of one of my remarks later appeared in a Moonie PR book. I then heard that this professor was on Moon’s payroll as a functionary at the annual international conference that a Dr Moon with eyeglasses hosts for eminent scientists.

After the Jonestown tragedy, an informational hearing was called in Washington, DC. The Moonie campaign to have the event cancelled did not succeed but they pressured enough that the Moonie president was called to testify and ex-members were not.

Hundreds of Moonies had the place mobbed by dawn. A friend, fearing for my safety, got me into the hearing room before the doors were opened to the public. First the press came in, bright lights, scuffle, equipment being set up, the sound of people filling up the room behind me and then a peculiar and familiar stench. That smell I could never get rid of on the fundraising team. I turned around and saw the entire hall filled with Moonies. As people stood in turn to give their presentations, the Moonies jeered, stomped their feet, hurled insults. Security guards, panelists, press all stiffened at the unpredictability of this confrontation. Wasn’t it the right of a governing body to gather information after the assassination of a congressmen and the death of over 900 others? How many were the Moonies willing to sacrifice to protect themselves? One of the ex-cultists prevented from testifying who had lost her tiny son in the suicide-massacre shook like a leaf when the Moonie president spoke in her stead. The Moonies rose as a man with a deafening cheer.

I wasn’t going to hang around. I pushed my way through the knotted crowd towards a side exit. Almost there but someone was blocking my path. I tapped his shoulder to move him aside. He spun around and faced me. Baum.

‘Erica, it’s-so-good-to-see-you, we’ve-been-so-worried-about-you.’

Yeah, so worried you’ve been losing sleep thinking what deprogrammed fundraisers will do to Moon’s bank account. I tried to step past He kept talking so fast he was spitting.

‘Listen, Sister, I-know-that-you-think-I’m-possessed-by-evil-spirits and we-think-that-you’re-possessed-by-evil-spirits, but-that-doesn’t-mean-that —’

‘Bob,’ I luxuriated in the heresy of addressing him like that and putting my hand on his shoulder, ‘I don’t believe in evil spirits.’

‘What?’ He took in a sharp breath and seemed to grow visibly larger with disbelief and indignation. ‘Well... don’t you believe in God?’ He had on a red and white pinstripe shirt that had an odd optical effect of making him seem to vibrate all the more.

‘You mean a person can’t believe in God without believing in little invisible things running around that make people open their wallets and fall asleep on the highway?’

I still love you, Bob, but not in a way you could understand. Not because doctrine says I must, not to show how super-spiritual I am.

‘I know you weren’t one of those jeering and stomping your feet You were always dignified and knew to turn the other cheek.’

His smile caught me off guard. Then I checked the eyes. They were blazing. ‘Oh, no. Oh, no.’ His head bobbled. ‘Things have changed. The time has come. The course has changed from a passive one to one of aggression. We’re on the offensive now.’

All the times Moon had spoken about military aggression. All the times we listened with our lids fluttering closed, as he droned on in his hypnotic way, punctuating with militaristic words, of battle, of enemy, of charging and crushing, defeating, subjugating, annihilating, of taking over the government, the United Nations, the whole world. Baum had me by both arms. I looked toward the door, searching wildly for a face I knew. Two friends spotted me. They flanked me and moved me through the door into an empty corridor. Baum ran after me, shouting, dancing to himself, trying to pry one of the men loose.

‘Leave her alone, Baum, can’t you see she doesn’t want to talk to you?’

‘Never mind that. You have to answer to a few things, Erica. What about this article in Newsweek? Why did you lie, Erica? Why are you saying things about us that you know aren’t true? You can’t do that, you can’t get away with it.’ He had his lips peeled back, lunging forward at every question. What did he intend to do about it? The press had already gone for the story about suicide training in the Moonies, about members being taught how to slash their wrists. Ex-members everywhere were crawling out of the woodwork. I wasn’t the only one talking.

Off the corridor behind one of the endless unmarked doors we stood. We’d ditched Baum. I was shaking. I sank into a chair.

I was shaking because I knew that but for a flick of fate, Baum and I could have traded places.

And by that same fate I had once been a model Moonie, a hard-liner like Baum. Would I not have made a model Nazi? Had not both the victim and the victimizer lived within me? Was I not now cast out forever from the innocence I once enjoyed? Moon had held out the forbidden fruit and my eyes had been opened to know good and evil.

[flakandforay]

The Truth Untold Theory

overall: interesting that bangtan decided to have a song called ‘전하지 못한 진심’ = The Truth Untold in one of their more recent comebacks which would be ‘Love Yourself: Tear’ with their title track called: Fake Love. 

warning(s): mentions of death 

⇝ theory masterlist 

theory: now delving deeper inside this, if you look closely at the lyrics of the song, it exactly depicts the story of Smeraldo which were released on blog posts 2 years ago when they have the comeback of Love Yourself Her - a smeraldo blog was set up as such and they actually told the story and history of the smeraldo flower and its relationship to the florist ( the owner of the shop ) 

but what was interesting was that later on before the comeback of Love Yourself Tear, this smeraldo blog was taken down and the latest post was that they are currently renovating and would come back soon, as it was meant to be a blog to show the opening of the store around August but was delayed. 

170903 // 2.06AM KST

we are shutting down everything temporarily

due to personal circumstances, the opening of the flower shop and blog operations would be temporarily postponed. to the people looking out for us, we want to give our thanks and apologies to you.

( trans: the smeraldo blog is put on hold for now and seemed to have deleted the other blog posts )

Post 

now, fast forward to the upcoming comeback of the Love Yourself Answer, the smeraldo blog was somehow magically brought back to life, as if it was back in business but rumours had it that the blog posts were slightly altered, but the gist is remains quite the same ( hence the idea as though they are time travelling etc; the idea of changing events ). 

comparing the content of basically the smeraldo blog, the same posts were being uploaded just a year later. ( as if they went back into time )

anyway, in the past before i could even translate everything, i managed to translate a few of the blog posts before it was taken down. ( masterlist here ). 

the 1st blog post mainly introduces about the blog and about the florist’s adventures into finding the smeraldo, mainly saying that it’s a flower that is part of a love story. 

170709 // 4.21PM KST

[1st ever story] the fate of smeraldo, the prologue story

hello. im ‘testesso’ the florist.

i started this blog because i wanted to introduce the flower, smeraldo. i just want to let you know in advance that i am preparing to open a flower shop that specializes in smeraldo in the middle of september. however you might think of it, this blog may be seen as its meant for publicity, i think ive ever met that this smeraldo ( shop ) is not a simple business.

my first connection with smeraldo dated 5 years ago. during that time, i was studying abroad in north dakota, in far north america. while in america, we participated in the academy’s <Flower 2012> that opened in virgina for a week. it takes a flight that is more than 5hrs from north dakota to virginia and no less than 7hours from my dorm to school.

[TSA’s caption: The Smeraldo Academy (TSA) that researches and specializes in the smeraldo. Beneath it is the academy’s facebook link]

but when i entered the distant event hall, I discovered a placard that said 'the origins of playing cards’. <Flower 2012> had already ended last week at the event of the academy at the time of america’s playing cards. i wrote the wrong date in my diary. at that time, it’s absurd to think that all are connected if i look back at it. i was so tired that i couldn’t afford to move anywhere else so i sat down and listened to the speech. fortunately, the speech was interesting as it was talking about future career of a florist and the connections between flowers was very exciting. of course as expected, it’s… 'smeraldo’

as you know from seeing the picture, the smeraldo carries a warm feeling. the romantic petals that are magical and subtle colours, and don’t you think there’s some kind of sad meaning behind it? that’s right. smeraldo is a flower with a passionate and heartaching story behind it. the story can be said by “non potevo dire la verità”, that means 'inability to convey sincerity’ in italian. speaking of flowers in love stories, can you guess whether it was sad?

in the future, through this blog about smeraldo, let me unfold the story about this flower gradually in the playing cards.

the 2nd blog post mainly talks about how the florist wishes to bring in Smeraldos for his shop etc 

the 3rd blog post talks about how the Smeraldo was first discovered so there is nothing much here. 

it is the 4th blog post that it becomes more important.  

170720 // 1.56PM KST

[4th story] the smeraldo legend

everyone, can you confidently say that you're beautiful? in the past, i was blinded by a door that said 'i am beautiful.' ive also been blinded by a door that said 'im not beautiful' and to some extent, you can choose which door to pull and enter. everyone, what do you think you would do? im going to tell you something now, starting the entangled love story of smeraldo.

the story of smeraldo is estimated to have begun from 15th century-16th century, in a rural village in northern italy. there's a small solitary castle in 'Sita Di Smeraldo' (La Città di smeraldo). there was a man with a really ugly appearance living there.

▲ the estimated village of 'Sita Di Smeraldo' in northern italy

there was not quite as much information about the man. 'the illegitimate child of the duke of Florence, the duke who fell in love with the gardener's daughter who gave birth to an illegitimate child, the man's mother died at the time of childbirth, and the wife and children of the man tried to kill the man, and so the duke sent the man away.' though there were full of rumours, none of them were claimed to be true.

the man alone hid himself in solitude at the old castle. because of the hatred and jealousy he received upon his birth and growing up, he didn't open his heart to anyone, when anyone tried to approach him, he would hid himself away angrily. his only joy was to grow flowers in his garden. one day, a woman appeared near the vicinity of his castle. the shabby woman picked up the heels of the garden fence, climbed over it and stole some flowers. the man was furious at first, and spent all night protecting his garden. but when he fell asleep for a while, the woman started to pick flowers again. the nights continued like that night, the man pretended to be a joe and observed the returning woman. curiosity killed the cat. the man waited for the woman, and one day decided to follow her. with the woman wrapped in a cloak, the man followed her to a place, the man found out that the poor and sickly woman was selling the flowers to earn a living.

the man wanted to help the woman. he wanted to teach the woman personally how to grow the flowers, and how to grow beautiful flowers. but he couldn't get ahead of her. the woman herself would be scared of him, it was obvious that she wouldn't love his ugly appearance. in the end, all he could do was to plant and grow flowers so that in a matter of time, she would stay in the garden.

the man decided to make a flower that does not exist in the world. the woman started to sell the expensive flowers that she made. after many consecutive failures, the man finally succeeded in making a flower that does not exist in the world, filling his garden with those flowers.

but when he started on this, the woman stopped showing up. no matter how long he waited, the woman did not appear at his garden, the troubled man went down to the village. and so the woman was found to have died.

and up till here, this is the story of smeraldo. i don't know if this really happened, but whoever saw the flower does not know whether it's made up. but every time i look at the smeraldo, i recall the story of it and think of it. if the man had the courage, would he have shown his face and expressed his sincerity? of course, the woman might have been scared and run away, even get mad. to have bravery is easier said than done.

actually, i have a similar experience. it's about the friend that i met at the playing card event at the academy in the previous post. i actually had a crush on him. he was a very bright, cheerful person. after hearing the news of the discovery of the smeraldo, he received the story related to the flowers, and promised me that we would go together to Sita Di Smeraldo. he told me to go with him if he really didn't mean anything to me.

even now, i recall and think about that day. the expression on his face that was full of courage and expectation, with big, short and quick steps and strapping on a knapsack, he excitedly grabbed an opportunity to reserve a plane in schedule.

i will never ever forget that moment. and even though a lot of time has passed, it is still a raw wound that will not heal.

this is of utmost importance. because it is exactly what is being relayed in the song ‘the truth untold’. 

the most important post of all is the 7th one. the story of the florist being almost identical to how the Smeraldo flower was made and then put into a song by bangtan. 

170813 // 2.02PM KST

[7th story] ‘the truth untold’

Actually, I'm not from a very wealthy family. I also had a hard time studying in America. I was a foreigner, henceI was not fluent in English, and I couldn't afford to have a great future.

On the day we promised to go on a trip to Italy, I waited for that friend at the airport and saw her get off the bus with a handsome and wonderful man over the glass door. I hid myself right away. Why did i do that? I don't know...I just hid myself reflexively and turned around and walked away. 'That's it then. I couldn't have tried to make her to go on a trip to Italy with me. For her, I was just a poor foreigner who didn't know anything.' That was my feelings then.

She called while I was walking, but I didn't answer. I stared at my face in the mirror in the airport toilet. Then, I turned off my cell phone and got on the plane. I booked the same flight, so I thought she would be there with him somewhere on the plane, but I didn't find her. I just wished for it. I don't know how much I wanted her to look for me around the plane. But until the plane crossed the Atlantic and landed in Italian airspace and got off at the airport... No one came to see me.

▲ Pictures taken while waiting for her at the international San Francisco airport in America

Sita di Smeraldo remains a painful and happy memory for me. The flowers were so beautiful that I cried. And that night something strange happened. I woke up with a strange sound while sleeping in a private house. There was a bed just below the window, and I could hear someone knocking on the window. The room was on the second floor and it was quiet outside. The time was past midnight and the curtain was pulled down so I couldn't see what was outside the window.

It wasn't scary or fearful, but it was still strange. I thought I'd woken up and open the window on the second floor, but I didn’t. I was forced to sleep, thinking that it would be better for the branches to shake in the wind and hit the window, but I couldn't sleep very well. I laid still for a long time listening to the sound, as if holding something back.

It was around lunch the next day that she called. No, it wasn't her who called. It was her brother. She had an accident at the airport where she was chasing someone in a hurry, and her breathing became unstable a little after midnight last night, and she ended up leaving the world.

Before I left my dorm that day, I opened the window next to my bed. The sunlight came in, and there was a colony of Smeraldo flowers. As I looked at the flowers and felt the wind passing by in the sun, I felt as if I was standing next to her by the window looking at Smeraldo.

▲ Painful and happy memories, the beautiful scenery of Sita di Smeraldo.

On my way home from the United States and from the airport, I heard some news that I had been looking forward to for a long time had been achieved. It was the fact that the Smeraldo flower shop in Korea was approved by the Smeraldo Society. Because Smeraldo is a rare species, the association strictly manages its overseas sales and so on, and it was approved by me to apply to the association later on. Later, three years have passed since the opening of the Smeraldo flower shop in Korea, but I decided to think that the news from the conference was the last message she gave me.

And that's how she gave me the (non-potevo de la verità) and went to a different world. This is the special relationship that I talked about in the first post.

but for easier reference, i have also placed the lyrics of the song right here. 

This garden is filled With blossoming loneliness I tied myself To this sand castle filled with thorns

What is your name? Do you even have a place to go? Oh could you tell me? I saw you hiding in this garden

And I know Your heat is real Your hand picks the blue flowers I want to hold it but

This is my destiny Don’t smile on me Light on me Because I can’t go to you There’s no name to call

You know that I can’t Show you me Give you me I can’t show you my weakness So I’m putting on a mask to go see you But I still want you

A flower that resembles you Blossomed in this garden of loneliness I wanted to give it to you As I take off this stupid mask

But I know This can’t go on forever I must hide Because I’m ugly

I’m afraid So pathetic I’m so afraid In the end, will you leave me too? So I’m putting on a mask to go see you

What I can do is To make a pretty flower That resembles you Blossom in this garden, in this world Then breathe as the person you know But I still want you I still want you

Maybe back then If I had just a little more Courage And stood before you Would everything be different now?

I’m crying At this sandcastle That’s disappearing And breaking down As I look at this broken mask And I still want you

But I still want you But I still want you And I still want you

Reference: Colour Coded ©

now, let’s look at each section of the song one by one. it is exactly the story of the Smeraldo legend in which the man whose appearance he refused to show to the woman who he grows to love ( despite her stealing his flowers ), he wears a mask so not to scare her away etc. 

the idea of the man just out of reflex hiding from the woman as such and the ending that she died before he could even confess that he loved her - that’s the truth untold. 

yet, if you compare with Fake Love, there is some semblance of the Smeraldo flower here as well. 

널 위해서라면 난 슬퍼도 기쁜 척 할 수가 있었어 널 위해서라면 난 아파도 강한 척 할 수가 있었어 사랑이 사랑만으로 완벽하길 내 모든 약점들은 다 숨겨지길 이뤄지지 않는 꿈속에서 피울 수 없는 꽃을 키웠어

=

If it’s for you I can act like I’m happy even when I’m sad If it’s for you I can act strong even when it hurts Hoping love will be perfected with only love Hoping that all my weaknesses will be hidden In this dream that won’t ever come true I grew a flower that couldn’t be blossomed

Reference: Colour Coded ©

just like the man in the Smeraldo legend, he created a flower that couldnt be blossomed by anyone else. that was how much effort and love he has for the woman that he barely knew the name of. he only knew her as someone who was sick and sold flowers for a living. 

now, see this is related to a whole love story, not so much of the HYYH period, and remember the articles posted regarding the highlight posters were meant to talk about love, in a way this is an extension of the HYYH era but now the idea of love, relationships and dating is now involved and not so much between the brotherhood that we all thought it was just about before especially with Prologue. 

[Photo Source] Bighit Entertainment  Credits: maxine ☕️ DO NOT REPOST ©

[knows-not-what-it-means]

Ive decided to delete all social media on my phone, accounts will still exist but wont be looking at them anymore. Its been 3 months since my break up, tried to forget about you with other people. I feel reckless. I still cant get you off my mind. I pretend like i dont care but i do. This is the only place i can share my thoughts. I wonder if you ever check my tumblr. Probably not, you dont care. I feel so lost, ive never really felt like this before. Im trying to find myself on my own. It would be nice if you were here to see me grow. I am growing. I see a little bit of you in everyone i meet. You haunt me. I cant get rid of you as much as i want to. I always told you im glad i met you but now i wish i never did. It hurts too much to let go, i wish i didnt meet you in the first place to have to let go. I wish i could go back in time and not swiped right on you. In a few days from now itll have been 3 years since we first met. Do you remember it as clearly as i do? It plays in my head like a movie. I hate this movie so much. I tell myself i hate you too but i know i dont. Theres so much i wish we both could have done differently. Itll be a long time for me to get over this. I honestly dont think i ever will. I feel very self districtive right now and i dont have the proper help.

[oakmd]

Congratulations ! You received 1,000+ followers !

Continue? ▶YES ▷NO

 Well, I can’t really express anything but amazement at such an accomplishment, and to be honest I’m pretty blown away that so many of you have stuck with me since the beginning of this blog, and that so many of you enjoy Professor Oak enough to stay. I’ll forever stand by the fact that this blog was the best 'joke’ I ever made, and probably one of the most fulfilling things I’ve actively kept at. 

As much as I hope this blog has helped you find comfort and laughter, RPing Professor Oak has definitely changed me for the better, as well. It has given me an outlet to heal parts of myself and provide help to others, and also pushed me to practice positivity even when I know I get so low sometimes that I don’t even want to try. Another bonus is that I have met wonderful people here, most of you just strictly friends on the dash, but I’ve also gained relationships with people that have extended into discord and I’m sure it has made all the difference this past year and a half. 

As usual, I’m not really a fan of long-winded gushes of emotion, so I’ll keep it short, but I would really like to have it be known that my love for Professor Oak has grown tremendously, in ways I would have never reached without taking the time to thoughtfully craft his backstory and work to develop him further. I know he’s a very nostalgic character that so many of us know and respect that I’m always very careful of how I choose to build on the image without ruining what’s already there.  Out of all my many muses here, this one has seemingly ( and surprisingly ) all at once snuck its way as my primary blog; the blog I always look forward to logging into the most, where I enjoy following your activity whether it be IC or OOC, and just generally enjoy being in the presence of people so passionate about a fandom associated with my childhood. I love this little corner of a community that has welcomed me and engaged with me and unknowingly kept me going, and to look back at my experience and see that I’ve had no trouble at all makes me feel really lucky.

There will never be a way to fully and accurately express my thanks, but I will say it anyway: thank you so much, and I hope that no matter where you go, and no matter what you do, you are trying to be your best, and that you’re happy. Professor Oak will always be there to congratulate you when you reach your dreams.

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER ( because my mind is so scattered - ) special shout outs to special people: 

@timecapscle - wasn’t it you that said i’d one day get 1,000 followers? : ) you’ve literally supported me since the beginning and i just wanna say that i appreciate your enthusiasm for professor oak as much as i appreciate your enthusiasm for bill. its wonderful to see someone represent an otherwise under represented character and you do it well. i care for you so much, and wish nothing but good things for your future even if you want to do bad things in the name of science

@diligentseeker / @evolutionexpert  - someone i consider a cherished friend, despite how sporadic our interaction seems, i appreciate all our random long talks on discord, and i’ll never forget our very first conversation. it meant a lot to me, and i want to thank you. i dont meet a lot of ppl that i feel ‘get’ me on some unspoken level, so when it happens, its a nice surprise. anyway i won’t ramble because i take it you’re not one for praise, but im glad people like you exist. with that being said please stop making professor elm stress me out.

@undinaes - the moment you’ve been waiting for. SIKE! just kidding; its no surprise that you’re always filling my dash with testimonials from people that see you for what you are. you’re a beam of sunshine with all the qualities to match; warm, bright, and a natural source of energy that brings people together. your passion for writing is astounding and even when ppl dont deserve your kindness, you’re unbiased in giving it out. truly a mom through and through. but most importantly, ur my girlie and im glad we met :v

@ofpalletown - in my mind, you are practically ash, and ill be here to support you even during all your moments of Extra™ ... but aside from that you’re very loyal to your friends and full of something sunny that i can’t describe. ur gonna be okay, kid. so pls stop stressing out ur dear prof oak 

@03redd - i probably mentioned not long ago that your blog is really good, but ill say it again in case you weren’t listening. i love your blog? its very fun to follow, and i think you’re one of my favorite reds. even with me not being game verse, its so easy to just immerse myself in whatever nonsense you have red drag professor oak into. i dig your creative energy. 

@normaliium - and ofc i cant leave out my cousin. the one to be admired, the ever-successful, brilliant human being that loves me even when i take off ten years of your life each night. my life would lack such substance without you, and i will never forget all you’ve done to help me when i would otherwise be left to myself. you make me really proud to know you, you really do, and everyone i ever talk to you about can attest to that. #YOLO

@bossgiovanni - you haven’t been active in forever, but you remain one of my friends and that’s all that matters. from skype to discord, im glad we could stick together even with our blatant differences in opinion. you are always so nice to me and say the kindest things, and i just wanna say thanks. hope youve been doing well! you are capable of so much, and i believe in you, so don’t forget that. 

@agentmansley - can i jsut say thank you for staying true to your muse and throwing even the purest of characters into your mess? i have loved your blog long before i made professor oak, and you’re seriously one of the funnest people i’ve rp’d with here. everything i’ve written with you is refreshing and new, and never fails to make me laugh. thank you for your love for kent, and also for writing with me. i know you’ve been MIA for a while, but you’re definitely a memorable person. 

@tcssaiga - i dont have a lot of cross-fandom interactions so when they happen im usually pleased. you’ve got great characterization, and have perfect dialogue. i never watched a whole lot of inuyasha but i’ve atched enough to know that you’re pretty close to canon. thanks for the interactions even if you’re mean to prof oak on archer ; (

@askgarymfoak - MY LITTLE ACORN!!!! the dedication you have for gary honestly gives me so much life, and i love rping with you on discord and just yelling about sam / gary hcs. its always a highlight of my day and i can tell you’ve thought about gary and his life long and hard, and its so cool to see someone interested in all that makes him the Headache we all recognize and love. please never stop sharing with me the personal hcs you have for the boy, i always want to hear them. 

@futureheld - we don’t even rp with each other on this muse BUT youre one of my longest tumblr rp friends that i still talk to and you’re really important to me. we have history, we go back!!!! okay? #FRIENDSHIP n all that. but tbh id follow you on any muse because your writing is just great? id write any weird crossover with you because you have a talent for making it work seamlessly anyway. thanks 4 the memories, loser. 

@seviiserver - CELIO!!! we dont talk as much as we used to, or rather, we talk in bursts every now and then but i consider you one of my good friends! not only are u really talented in all things artistic, but i love your writing and it’s always enjoyable to read, even if its not one of our threads together. you made me have so much adoration for celio and like all the other ppl ive met who bring life to underrated / under-rp’d muses, i enjoy seeing everything you pour into him... AND ALSO I LOVE OUR OAK / ROWAN INTERACTIONS? i love them so much it hurts okay. even if its just silliness in discord it brightens my day. anyway perhaps one day we will cross paths in this sleepless city and i will finally teach u how to ride a bike.

@rottenrhythms - i know i dont have much to say or comment with whenever you message me on discord, but i admire how much detail you put into your characters and meta. im always impressed with all the work and thought you put into your world-building; i wish i had that much drive. also, you’ve made a lot of improvement with yourself from the time i first started talking to you on skype. be proud of your progress, and keep working at it, it’s worth it in the long run!

@lack--two NATE youre definitely a very sweet person, and perhaps a little more devious ooc than i’d imagined you would be ( at least to me, why must you poke me for reactions? ; ( u wound me ) but you’re a soothing presence to be around and im glad you were finally able to make discord work. bonus points for letting me yell about yugioh all the time. never stop being wonderful. im here for you whenever you might need a listening ear, okay? 

@loyalpika / @palletbloomer - #PRIKA!!! ever since i first followed you i remembered being blown away by your extensive headcanons on pikachu and i genuinely enjoy every blog you make! we dont talk OOC but from all your ooc posts you seem like a very caring older sister and thats nice to see; with you running around all the time, i hope you do get some rest every now and then! i hope our camaraderie never falters, take care friend! 

@thepkmnnurse - i cant forget all the love and support both you and your muse have for professor oak, and im happy you try to spread positivity on the dash whenever you can! we don’t talk much OOC but from what i can tell you’re just as kind and nurturing as nurse joy herself. i hope you’ve been taking it easy wherever you are, and i hope your days are bright!

@rebelracket - will there ever be a day that i dont enjoy seeing your delinquent muse causing havoc on the dash? your creativity is wonderful to witness and i enjoy clarissa so much, thank you for interacting with a pure ol’ muse like mine. i hope we can continue to keep writing together, im excited at where we might end up. p.s. your art is delightful.

@porttownprince - you’re a gentle presence on my dash but im glad that youre here and that you’ve stuck around despite all the bad things that followed you. i hope you can overcome all the trauma you’ve been through. thank you for being kind with me!

@nikkouki - i know i dont say much but i enjoy your random check ins with me on discord, and i think youre a sweet young girl. you’re gonna go far in life, just make sure you keep going! continue being a precious kiddo and don’t forget to study your japanese ; (

@viciousvainglory & @midoriyamight - i cant think of one without the other so accept this double-tag lol. you’ve both supported this blog since the beginning and i wont forget how welcome you made me feel! no matter what blogs you’re on im glad we can still be friends! you deserve the big toblerone! 

@fateandfury - my long time writing parter without knowing we were long time writing partners! the work you put into professor juniper is something to behold! we haven’t seemed to interact much despite rping professor muses, but that doesn’t mean i don’t appreciate your take on such a muse!

OTHER BLOGS TO BE ADMIRED ( also in no particular oder) : @sterlingsilverchampion @starmarkcd @pxgtails @satanstories @champofpallet @golden-oak @spriggaens @nurturen @florenselite @craniumaniac @ask-guzma @tenderpoison @gocatchem @faemoria @hikaup@writtenbykaichu @executiveariana @honoxtokage @simikami @bigcalavera @rotorotom @thehopcful @and-they-succeeded @metalprincess13 @keep-those-memories-away @hisvanity @attitxde @asmayflies @sesshcmaru @theagentlooker @ambcrly @kantocowboy @dauphindekalos @beareroftheblueorb @blastingxff @aquaelegance @bugeyesboutique @make-it-trouble  @thunderstonereject  @theagentlooker @soultattered @scvedbylove  @diluviumx @inevitabilis-sors @pokedouche @fightiniumz @firespun

I’M SO SORRY IF I MISSED PEOPLE, THIS IS REALLY HARD FOR SOMEONE SO SCATTER-BRAINED AND MEMORY-FOGGED AS ME. EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT INCLUDED AND EVEN IF WE’RE NOT MUTUALS, I REALLY APPRECIATE YOUR SUPPORT OF THIS BLOG. WITHOUT ANY OF YOU I WOULDN’T HAVE GOTTEN HERE.

BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR A GIVEAWAY!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[nijiimura]

all the botanical asks ;)

damn you.

jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed?griffins hell yea

lavender; soundcloud or vinyls?soundcloud!!

primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read?annihilation by jeff vandermeer 

lunar mist; do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets?depends on if they fit or not but YEA bc it smells like them its nice

bird of paradise; what was the best thing that happened to you this month?tomorrow im gonna see zoe im so fuckin ready

gardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself?that its gonna be ok

lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests?the ocean

whirling butterflies; would you kiss the last person you kissed again?the question is who was the last person i kissed 

marmalade skies; do you plan your outfits?dfjdsbnfjsbfhfd NO im a walking disaster

apricot drift; how do you feel right now?bored

everlasting daisy; what’s the last dream you remember having?i dreamed about seeing infinity war the night before i actually saw it and apparently in dream IW they never went to Wakanda and just shot footage just for trailers like they did in rogue one

queen’s cup; what are you craving right now?chocolate...

lavender dream; turn ons/offs?turn on - girls. turn off - men.

water lilly; when was the last time you cried? why?this morning bc my teacher sent me a pissed off email after i told me i was gonna be an hour late bc i missed the bus

lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize?no

winterberry; do you bite or lick your ice cream?whoever bites their ice cream are monsters

honey perfume; favorite movie ever?grand budapest hotel!!!!

desert rose; do you like yourself?hmmm next question

snapdragon; have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity?i took a selfie w a WWE commentator years ago 

night owl; how many countries have you visited?2!

heliotrope; have you ever been in a castle?yea it was fucken sweet

creams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done?come out??

lantana; what’s on your mind right now?SLEEPOVER W ZOE TOMORROW

pumpkin patch; what’s your zodiac sign?leo... yknow... nya

tulip; name 5 facts about yourself.-i wear socks to bed bc my feet get cold!!-i have a scar on my wrist from a swinging accident w my little brother-i have a spotify playlist thats 122hrs long bc i just dump albums on there-abba is currently my favorite band-bleeding hearts are my favorite flowers bc they remind me of my late great grandma

daphne; do you believe in karma?yes??

queen of the meadow; ever been in love?yes

wisteria; whom do you admire and why?my dad tbh hes one of the hardest workers i know and has such a shitty job and deals w 90% of my family drama but hes always so positive and funny and i love my dad so damn much

angel’s face; what was your favorite bedtime story as a child?good dog carl

remember me; did you make someone laugh today?i fucken hope so

iris; do you believe in ghosts?YEA

lilac; if you could go back in time which time period would you visit?1979 just so i can go to an abba concert

caramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not?hm no lmao

primula; what makes you sad?school. all these rohan ovas davpro keeps releasing

rain lily; was today typical? why/why not?yea i went to class and disappointed my teacher 

queen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most?zoe

lady’s slipper; what did you have for breakfast today?nothing... and i had nothing for lunch either.... all ive had is some lemonade and poptarts i bought like an hour ago

forget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life?going to this damn college

lunaria; what’s your favorite fictional universe?ok star wars universe is rad as fuck

violet; favorite tv show?the office and kitchen nightmares HDJIFDNJF

sunflower; share a favorite quote.god idk man

snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like?im home alone and its raining outside and i have the windows open. i dont have any deadlines to meet and i spend the day drawing 

tiger lily; do you have any hobbies?drawing and crying

peony; share a small random book passage that means something to you.BITCH IDK DO U THINK I READ?????

tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared?catch fireflies but i am SO terrified of all bugs its not funny

honeysuckle; do you usually date people your age or older/younger?my fucken age

sweet pea; who means the world to you? why?okuyasu nijimura means the entire world to me, and heres why (pulls out 50 page essay) no but my little brother

love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read?have yall... dabbled in these books called warriors by erin hunter?

foxglove; who is your favorite cartoon character?im not even into su anymore but amethyst always wins

magnolia; coffee or tea?coffee

crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved?Why Not Both Thot

snowflake; are you a dog or a cat person?WHY NOT BOTH THOT

bell flower; what is your biggest addiction?hey guys im smoking the latest coolest drug called okuyasu nijimura

cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy?y...yes

moonflower; what’s your favorite color?yellow

freesia; do you have a good relationship with your parents and siblings? why/why not?yea we tight

sundrop; are you a morning or a night person?night

poppy; have you ever dealt with a mental illness?idk if adhd is a mental illness or not so imma say... maybe

clover; how would your friends describe you?

fucken gay

dandelion; do you consider yourself and extrovert or an introvert?depends :/

lilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do?bitch idk man im an open book i embarrass myself on a daily basis

anemone; describe yourself in 3 words.dumb gay bitch

lotus; best memory as a child?my mom bringing my cat bill home for the first time!!! he was so small.......

angelonia; what is your eye and hair color?brown and brown

dahlia; do you like crystals?yea imma shove my dick in a geode

buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?grievous real so i can fuck him

baby’s breath; what’s your hogwarts house?hufflepuff

calendula; biggest pet peeve?specific but when im literally just sitting in the car and one of my parents goes “looks like SOMEONE has an attitude” like?? i was silently looking out the window

blanker flower; would you rather go to a cocktail party with your best friends or stay home and read a book/watch a movie with your pet?friends bc i love them so much

blazing star; share a secret.I DONT HAVE A FUCKEN SECRET

carnation; would you rather live longer or happier?happier

petunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why?bitch im too tired to answer this

bluebell; do you wear glasses?no

nymphea; forest or river?river

orchid; do you like exercise?HFDJKSFNDKJSDFNFK WHO TF DO I LOOK LIKE.

pansy; do you like poetry?FUCK poetry

morning glory; any special talent that you have?i can do a good swedish chef impression

[spongebobsquarepiss]

all the botanical asks

Bless u, i love you jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed?Unicorns lavender; soundcloud or vinyls?Vinyls primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read?The Snow Child lunar mist; do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets?Y e s bird of paradise; what was the best thing that happened to you this month?hmm. i went to see the testosterone dr person ladygardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself?ill be a better bf than i have been lately lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests?Ooh forests or oceanwhirling butterflies; would you kiss the last person you kissed again?Yes def marmalade skies; do you plan your outfits?Sometimes apricot drift; how do you feel right now?anxious and sadeverlasting daisy; what’s the last dream you remember having?Ummmm. we were all trying to watch infinity war but i couldn’t get to the theater at all and i was disappointing my friends so i started crying queen’s cup; what are you craving right now?Love and affection and cheeze its lavender dream; turn ons/offs?On: discreet flirting, being sexy without meaning to beOff: being called anything femme tbh, put into the stereotype that i like what girls like in certain more sexualized situationswater lilly; when was the last time you cried? why?right now cause i feel bad for not being a great bf sometimes and im not a great friend, i just rely and take from others and don’t give a lot. lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize?Not really winterberry; do you bite or lick your ice cream?Bite?? maybe lick???honey perfume; favorite movie ever?God idk man. atm it’s Brothers Bloomdesert rose; do you like yourself?Nosnapdragon; have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity?Yeah.night owl; how many countries have you visited? None. until we go to France none besides the US lmao heliotrope; have you ever been in a castle?God no but i wishcreams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done?came out as translantana; what’s on your mind right now?i wish i was a better person pumpkin patch; what’s your zodiac sign?Taurus tulip; name 5 facts about yourself.im trans, i play the tuba, im musically talented, i love all of my friends, i love my dogdaphne; do you believe in karma?Sure?queen of the meadow; ever been in love?Yeahwisteria; whom do you admire and why?My gf cause she’s brave and loving and caring angel’s face; what was your favorite bedtime story as a child?i didn’t get bedtime stories. at least not that i remember remember me; did you make someone laugh today?maybe?? i think in AP music i did. iris; do you believe in ghosts?Nahlilac; if you could go back in time which time period would you visit?idk man the past kinda sucked unless ur a straight white male with lots of moneycaramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not?No. Life is sad primula; what makes you sad?Legit. almost anything if there’s enough emotion put into itrain lily; was today typical? why/why not?Def not typical. ive been an anxious wreck all dayqueen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most?My gflady’s slipper; what did you have for breakfast today?a barforget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life?A to lunaria; what’s your favorite fictional universe? Honestly. Marvel violet; favorite tv show?The Flash atmsunflower; share a favorite quote.Time is the only resource you can never get back and get more of snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like?sleeping in a little bit. reading. practicing. cuddling with my gf. texting my friends tiger lily; do you have any hobbies?Yeah i like reading and i love playing my instruments tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared?Audition for things, make more friends, be more outgoing especially at danceshoneysuckle; do you usually date people your age or older/younger? My agesweet pea; who means the world to you? why?My gf she’s amazing and tbh i wouldn’t be alive without her she’s a dork love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read?the Snow Child foxglove; who is your favorite cartoon character?Aomine Daikimagnolia; coffee or tea?Tea crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved?Lovedsnowflake; are you a dog or a cat person?Dog bell flower; what is your biggest addiction?Sleeping cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy?All the timemoonflower; what’s your favorite color?Navy bluefreesia; do you have a good relationship with your parents and siblings? why/why not?Yeah. my parents are understanding and open minded and just want me to be happy sundrop; are you a morning or a night person?Nightpoppy; have you ever dealt with a mental illness?Uh yes clover; how would your friends describe you?gay, musical, a dorkdandelion; do you consider yourself and extrovert or an introvert?Introvertlilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do? Hmm. Sports anime and gay manga anemone; describe yourself in 3 words.Sad, musical, trying lotus; best memory as a child?fishing on the little su and it’s sunny out and i caught a super huge fish and my dad’s proud angelonia; what is your eye and hair color?Hazel eyes, brown hair dahlia; do you like crystals?Yes buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?everyone would be open minded and caring baby’s breath; what’s your hogwarts house?Slytherin calendula; biggest pet peeve?Out of tune instruments blanker flower; would you rather go to a cocktail party with your best friends or stay home and read a book/watch a movie with your pet?Read a bookblazing star; share a secret.i have a fear that everything i do is fake and no one actually likes me, they just tolerate me and don’t care. im really scared that ill mess up again and ruin this relationship and/or ruin my mental again carnation; would you rather live longer or happier?Happierpetunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why?i have no idea man. Everyone is learning and trying their best and honestly small stories make me the happiest and most inspired bluebell; do you wear glasses?Sometimes nymphea; forest or river?River orchid; do you like exercise?Yeahpansy; do you like poetry?Yes morning glory; any special talent that you have?i can play sixteenth notes on a tuba at 200 bpm and i intend to go faster someday

[soaimagines]

Blind Threats

Request: Jax imagine based on a dream that @homicidalteenagedream had.

Hope you like this boo, I changed a couple things. Sorry it took so long.

I don't really know what timeline i was going with here, except Tara doesn’t exist (YAAASS) & Thomas is older and in school.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You gripped the wheel tightly as you pulled into the lot. To say you were under pressure lately  was an understatement and the last thing you wanted to see was that white mercedes , belonging to SAMCROs favourite porn slut Ima, sitting in your usual spot. Your jaw clenched and you swung your car into an empty spot, your tyres screeching. You were so blinded by your anger that you didn’t see the tow truck parked in front of the garage. and the prospects unloading the bike. The bike that belonged to you old man. You had just slammed your door shut when you finally noticed the bike, with the fresh dents and scratches. Your heart dropped and all your anger left you, only to be replaced with guilt and worry. Jax saw you step around your car and he stepped out of the office and headed towards you. As soon as you saw him a sense of relief washed over you and you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you walked across the lot. “Hey babe.” “What happened?” Jax sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair, slicking it back out of his face. “Had a run in with a 12 wheeler.” Jax told you. “Had to put her down.” “Are you fucking kidding me?” “Im fine, thanks for asking.” “God as if its not bad enough that I gotta worry about you coming home filled with bullets, now I gotta worry about you being crushed under a wheel too?!” “Hey,” Jax reached for your hand and he squeezed it comfortingly. “It was an accident. You don’t need to worry bout me.” He met your gaze an under those blue eyes you softened, but only slightly. “So whats the damage?” “Bit of road rash, nothin major.” You nodded. Jax threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side as he led you to the garage. You knew he was only doing it to comfort you and keep you from nagging him about road safety but you relished in the contact; it was the most he’d touched you in what felt like years. Clay was inspecting the bike while Gemma leant against the workbench in the garage. “Hows she looking?” Jax called as you approached. He slid his arm off your shoulder and walked towards his bike. He stopped in front of it and ran his hand across the seat, his eyes studying the scratched paint work. You leant against the workbench next to Gemma. “Give Lowell couple hours and she’ll be good. Its mostly cosmetic.” Jax grinned and slicked his hair back once more. “Thank god. Im hard for my Harley already.” Clay laughed and you rolled your eyes. Gemma smirked. “Maybe she can help you with that.” Jax glanced in your direction briefly before looking away. He pulled his cigarettes from the pocket of his kutte and began to walk away. “Nah, Im good.” He muttered under his breath. “Whats that about?” Gemma asked hastily, her dark eyes burning into you. “Forget it.” You gulped and walked away, heading swiftly back to your car. Gemma pursed her lips and crossed her arms as she watched you both, walking away in different directions.

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Chucky, why don’t you take the boys out to play on the swings?” “I accept that.” Chuck nodded to Gemma and you thanked him, only just managing to ruffle Thomas’ blond hair before he leapt off of your lap and chased after Abel who was already half way out the door. Your daughter giggled in Gemmas arms, cooing and gurgling in her own baby language that only she understood. “God, how much longer are they gonna be in there?” You glared at the closed doors, wishing that Church would be over so you could head home. Gemma raised an eye brow and kissed the tip of your daughters nose, earning another giggle. “You got somewhere to be, mama?” “I wish.” You sighed and rapped your fingertips against the wooden table. Lyla shared a sympathetic smile with you and you pushed back your chair and stood. Maybe some fresh air would help your mood. The clubhouse was crowded tonight. Jax had requested that everyone related to the club attend. Whether it be through family or an old lady. Everyone that knew the Redwood Boys was here. Everywhere you looked there were faces, and all you wanted was to be alone. You ran your hand through your daughters soft dark hair and headed for the door. Abel and Thomas had taken after their father. All blonde hair and blue eyes. But your daughter had taken after you and her dark hair matched yours exactly. She was only young but you knew she would be a spitting image of you in a few years. It was less crowded outside. Chucky was pushing the boys on the swings, their angelic laughter travelling through the cool evening air. You perched on top of the picnic table and laid back against the old wood. The faint sound of Guns N Roses playing through the speakers and muffled banter travelled through the walls and you blocked it out as you pulled your cigarettes out of your pocket. The nicotine filled your lungs and you exhaled deeply when you heard the door to the clubhouse open. “You gonna tell me whats going on between you and my son?” You didn’t even need to look. You would know that voice anywhere. “Nothings going on, Gem.” You sighed. “So you’ve just been a grumpy bitch all week for nothin, huh sweetheart?” You sat up and glared at her. She had her hands on her hips and that knowing, Gemma Teller smile plastered all over her face. “C’mon, baby. Tell me whats going on.” You sighed again and ran your hand trough your hair, trying to figure out where to start. “I dunno, Gem. Everything was fine a few weeks ago.” “So whats changed?” You shrugged. “Ever since he laid down his bike everything just sorta.. fallen apart.” Gemma stepped closer and sat atop the picnic table next to you. She lit her own cigarette and took a long drag as she listened to you speak. “He barely speaks to me, let alone touches me. Fuck he hasn’t even kissed me in god knows how long.” Your voice began to shake and you shoved down the uproar that threatened to escape you from rising in your throat. “When I wake up he’s gone, thats if he’s even come home at all.” You blew out your smoke. “He doesn’t say good morning to me, he’s gone before the kids are up for school.” “Honey give him time, he’ll come round.” “Really? Cause I cant help but notice Imas cars been here nearly everyday and I gotta feeling he’s fucking that bitch again.” Gemma shook her head. “Naw, he don’t want that rancid pussy.” You sighed and tapped your cigarette, watching the ash crumble off the end and flutter to the ground. “It will be okay, sweetheart. You just gotta hang in there. He loves you. You’re good for him.” Both of you looked up as the door opened and Jax walked out. He glanced in your direction but his face never formed a smile. He took a puff of the joint between his lips and looked away and walked towards the office, a cloud of smoke billowing out behind him. Gemmas eyes narrowed as she watched her son saunter his way too the office. “I’ll be back later.” You slid off the table and flicked your butt to the ground and headed inside. Your daughter was on Opies lap, her finger wrapped in his beard and you thanked him for looking after her and lifted her onto your hip. You carried her outside and rounded up the boys and loaded them into the car. Jax watched from the office as you pulled out of the lot and headed home.

The kids were all finally asleep and you tiptoed your way around their rooms, pulling clothes from their drawers and wardrobes. You would just get everything ready. Thats all. That was the plan. You kept telling yourself you were doing the right thing. Things couldn’t go on like this any longer. And so you would pack enough for the kids and for yourself and you would keep them ready. They would be hidden away , ready for when you finally had the courage to do what you’d been considering doing for weeks. If only you weren’t so in love with him. Then maybe you’d be gone tonight. But you did love him and so you would give him three days. Three days to change things, three days to make things better. Three days to convince you to stay. You finished packing and you stashed their bags in the back of your wardrobe, along with your suitcase. There was a bottle of whiskey waiting for you on top of the refrigerator and you poured yourself a glass before curling up on the sofa. You had taken your third sip when you heard Jax’s bike pull into the driveway. You took a deep breath and glued your eyes to the television screen. The last season of The Bachelor was playing and you tried to focus on that. The front door opened and a thump could be heard as Jax kicked his sneakers off his feet. He watched you as he pulled off his gloves and his kutte. Your feet tucked up beneath you, wine glass in one hand and the tv remote in the other, watching the screen as it flashed images of red roses and girls in pretty dresses. You didn’t look up as he crossed the room or when he stopped in front of you. It was only when he took the remote from your hands and turned the volume down that you finally looked up at your old man. Jax sat on the sofa next to you and placed the remote on the coffee table. Only the sound of your breathing could be heard and you took a sip of your whiskey. “I’m sorry.” His voice broke the silence and he fumbled with the rings on his fingers as he searched his mind for the right words to say. You ran your finger around the rim of your glass as you waited for him to continue. “”I’ve been pushing you away.” “No shit.” You scoffed. Jax sighed and ran his hand through his hair before turning to you. “Look, maybe I was wrong to do it. But I was trying to protect you.” You arched an eyebrow. “Ive got dead bodies all around me, babe. This shit thats been going on.. I don’t know how to get out of it. I don’t know how to keep you and the kids away from it.” “These last two weeks Ive been trying to push you away. I’m terrified of hurting you. Im terrified of hurting our kids.” “You think I’m not used to this shit, Jax?” “We have never been this deep before.” You rolled your eyes and placed your glass on the table. “Look, I get the whole ‘trying to protect you bullshit’. I do. But you know it doesn’t work on me. Its never worked on me. And to say you don’t want to hurt me?!” You laughed bitterly and stood, lifting the bottle of whiskey off the table. “You just spent the last two weeks hurting me, babe.” You spun on your heels and marched to the bathroom. You perched on the edge of the tub and turned the faucet on full, letting the hot water fill the bath. Jax watched you walk out of the living room and he buried his face in his hands. How did everything turn so wrong?

You slid down into the warm water, letting your head sink below the surface and blocking out all sound. You wished that the walls of the tub could fold down, that the tub could expand and you could swim below the surface the way you used to when you were young and your mother would take you swimming in the lake. You wished you could feel as free as you did when you’d dive into that lake. But when you came up for air you were reminded of the pain in your chest and the same four walls of the bathroom surrounded you. Sobs took over your body and  you trembled as your tears fell, mixing with the bath water. It was more than crying. It was the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. You pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, as tears rolled down your cheeks. Eventually the water turned cold around you and your tears ran dry. You stood, letting the water run down your body and you grabbed the towel off the heated rail and wrapped it around your body. Stepping out of the bath you caught a glimpse in the mirror of your reflection. You looked deflated and gulped. You weren’t sure who you were anymore. The whiskey bottle sat on the counter beside the basin and you took a swig of the honey coloured liquid, letting it burn down your throat. You placed it back on the counter and left the bathroom, your dripping body leaving a trail of marks along the carpet. You headed for your bedroom but when you opened the door you froze. Jax was perched on the edge of the bed you shared with him, his head buried in his hands and his shoulders shaking as he cried. You gulped, your mind racing as you tried to work out what had brought on this sudden emotion from the man who was normally so strong. And then you saw it. You saw your suitcase lying in front of the wardrobe, you saw your kids bags, unzipped and showing the contents you had packed earlier that evening. He didn’t notice you had entered the room and you crossed the room silently and knelt by the bags, quietly repacking the items of clothing he had pulled out. The sound of you pulling the zip shut on your sons bag alerted him and he looked up to see you kneeling in your towel, fumbling with the bags. “Stop,” He said softly. You gulped and kept packing, reaching for the strewn clothes he had torn out, your hands moving faster now. “Please, babe. Please don’t leave me.” Your breathing hitched in your throat but you kept going, zipping up the final bag. “(y/n), please. Don’t leave me, I love you.” He was begging you now and tears rolled down your cheeks. The bags were all repacked and you hung your head over them as you listened to him pleading. It took every ounce of you to lift yourself to your feet and you turned to him. His bloodshot eyes were glistening with unshed tears, making the colour of his eyes shine bluer that you thought possible. “I need you.” His whisper echoed loudly in your head and  you took a deep breath. Your adjusted the towel wrapped around your body. He watched you as you fumbled with your damp hair and the towel, anything you could do to keep your eyes away from his. He stepped forward and cupped your face, lifting your face to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes broke you. The pain, the pleading, the hope. “Things need to change, Jackson.” “They will babe. I promise.” You nodded slowly. His hands left your face and he  wrapped them around your body and pulled you closer to him. He crashed his lips against yours and kissed you deeply, a sudden passion and urgency surging through his lips. He pulled you to the bed and laid you down beneath him. You weren’t sure if you ever would have had the courage to leave him. But as he made love to you like he never had before, you knew that you would always be right beside him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[jonodah-blog]

“How can you say that?”

I want to die. Just let me be a ghost and walk the earth forever. Nothing to hold me back. It wont be any different from living. I was always quiet and observant. But Im nothing in the eyes of others. I dont remember words, but I never forget how you made me feel. And it hurts. Maybe dying is just a long sleep. Im not afraid. I wont even feel it. I wont even exist to be aware of it. Am I broken? Defective is all I here. What Ive been told, withen these walls. im tired. Im very tired. Just let me go already. Im done. Maybe Ill be in a dream. I never know it, which makes it all the more comforting. I just want to love and be happy. Thats all I really want. But this cruel world doesnt need someone like me. Time moves on. In the end, it all really doesnt matter. I have no control. The bottom of the sea was always so quiet. Distant. Like me. Hello moon. Can I pretend youre a person? You shine bright as a smile. Let me sing you one last song, before I go. My final act of goodness. Goodbye world. It was fun. I love you~

11:39PM

I was never good with words. Just pictures. Like movies. But I can try. You make me happy, and you know who Im talking about. I wish we can live together. Do the things I dream of. Id say we, but Im always curious whats in your mind. Dont be afraid, you can tell me. Is it me, or is it you? Just be you. Its what I love the most. Please believe that you are more than what you think. Not me though. Im a mess. Im out of control. Am I insane? Whos to say we all are. Change. I say Im always ready, but Its different when things are taken away from you. And yet, they still hurt me. No one will ever understand, but with you, it doesnt have to be. The freedom, I can only dream of in my world. Its not fair. 

11:46PM

No, Im not okay. Im in pain. I forgot what it felt like to be like everyone else. Why do I poison myself with all these feelings. I use to believe it was a gift, but maybe I was lying to myself. Oh, I wish you can see me, but at the same time, you shouldnt. Why? Why do I do it? Im in pain. Im hurting so much, but I learned to hide too well. You dont see what I see. Fell what I feel. But who cares. It doesnt matter, right? Im just one person on this planet. Time will move on. We will all forget. Oh, I wish I can hug you and forget too. But no, Im a different kind of person. Its a different kind of pain. It doesnt sting. Its a weight, and its dragging me down to the bottom of the ocean. The darkest of the depth. Its quiet and dark, a world I grew in. Its my home. Why am I like this? Do you have an answer? 

11:54PM

I love you. Oh my god, I fucking love you. I dont care anymore, but at the same time, I do. Im split in half. Oh, the pain. The pain of confusion. The pain of suppression. The kind where I have to hide. The cruelest part is, its false happyness. People just mean so much to me. Everyones different and its beautiful. Think about it. We’re all different, isnt that facinating? The amount of time and experience to create a uniqe person, never two of the same. Why do I see this? Who dont you? Id do it all for you. and yet...maybe I havent met the right people. Or maybe Im not a good person. God, I hate myself. I love myself. Did I mension Im split down the middle?

12:01AM

I get it now. Im at that point, and I understand. Yes, I have gone insane. All I can do is sing a lovely tune to the trail of my demise. I could laugh. I wish I can cry. What does crying feel like again? ...*silence*... How do you cry? Thats an odd question, just forget about it. My god, I have gone insane. On no oh no oh no no no no. *laughs* How sad. Its so sad. And yet...I can smile. Can this be the last lie I tell? Im tired of making a fool out of myself. I dont care. You shouldnt either. Just watch me fall and hope Its quick. 

12:06AM

Who are you? Have we met before? Well...thank you...I guess. Wow, Im tired. Dreams are scary. My dreams are scary I mean. Not the dreams themself, but the fact that I cant tell if Im in a dream. Im so passive and acceptant to everything, maybe you can call it a curse. Is that death? Can it be? Cant really say or control that. How do I wanna go...? Well, Im passive, so I cant do it. I tried. Its not my style. I can sit here. Rot. Decompose. Maybe give a tree some nutrients from my useless corpse. Call it my final act of goodness. Oh, Im a fool.  A sad old fool. Arnt I? It sucks. Everything sucks. *sigh* Im tired of the light. Im just...so used to assossiating bad feelings with it. Is it my fault? Maybe. But not all of it. Would things be different? Who cares. Time moves on. What the fuck is time anyway?

12:14AM

Help me. I dont care anymore. Oh nooo. Its over. Im done. Game oooveeer. *laughs* Who are you? Who am I? Im just a person, just like you. Wow, it hurts, It all hurts. Hahahahaaaaaah~ It really hurts on the inside. This is how it started I think...I was doomed from the start. Its all coming back to me now. I don’t believe Im good with words, but who cares. I dont. Nope...not anymore. That sucks, doesnt it? Another lost happy soul...

00:00AM