Warmth. Books. Hot chocolate.
Harmonious melody of a relative silence in the city.
Bright blue. Cosy apartment. Smell of fresh backery.
Filled with lights and stories,
Pets, and friends, and trips, and studies.
Being alone was like being wrapped in an old blanket,
Safe and comfortable.
Relatives. People. Questions about your private life.
Pieces of advice about having children and getting married.
Muddy grey. Their words become stuck in your
Gossips. Cliche. Chit-chats.
Crazy old cat lady - neighbors say.
Noticing for the first time that when you’re alone everything’s
Little tight knot in the chest.
Doubts. Lots of doubts in every idea and move.
Confidence evaporated, leaving you to burn in your
Being lonely. Funny words. Sadness.
Understanding that you can be lonely even when you aren’t alone.
Black. No air. Dispair. Nervous breakdown. Crying and
Bright blue. Muddy grey. Ultimate black. Just a change of colours.
Devolution from being an artist into being a used dirty palette.
Devolution from being alone to being extremely
“Big Daddies represent BioShock: They are iconic fixtures in Rapture. In BioShock 2, you step into the shoes of the first Big Daddy and assume the role of one of the most feared beings within the city walls. Designing new Big Daddies posed a significant challenge: Not only did the team have to design a playable Big Daddy, but they also had to create other Big Daddies that would still present a significant threat to you, despite the fact that you now also wield a drill.“ - Deco Devolution: The Art of BioShock 2
Ok but fairies don’t like iron so clearly Irn Bru was created as a modern urban solution to Scotland’s fairy problem.
I mean think about it, very few stories have cropped up of people being taken by the Good Neighbours since the late nineteenth century which coincides with the rise of popular health tonics like iron brews, while the precursor to THE Irn Bru was brought out in 1901.
This ALSO coincides with the lifetimes of individuals such as Andrew Lang (who of course published a version of Robert Kirk’s Secret Commonwealth, and Kirk was one of those reputed to have been taken by the fairies) and the prominence of Victorian cutesy fairy tradition may have brought public attention to very real, malevolent and not particularly cutesy human-fairy issues in the contemporary world, sparking an effort to end abductions.
The Good Neighbours cannot have been particularly happy about this, not least because it’s status as ‘Scotland’s Other National Drink’ threatened the position of their own invention, whisky, from which they still draw massive revenues (because obviously Scotch whisky is supernatural, how else would it be the best, and it is well-known that those who imbibe have a greater chance of seeing the Fair Folk). Various attempts to placate fairy distillers have taken place over the years however, and to bring the two communities together, with much greater success since devolution and the founding of the Scottish parliament (the fairy community being considered an embarrassment and marker of backwardness by the Scots at the time of the Act of Union, so attempts were made to hide them from Westminster, though not always successfully).
One particularly prominent symbol of improved relations between the communities is the famous snowman Christmas advert, conceived as a metaphor for human and fairy cooperation (the snowman being animated by magic, though hiding behind the conventional Christmas imagery of Raymond Briggs’ classic). However it has been an established principle in Scots law since at least 1946 that humans who have taken regular doses of irn bru are off-limits and unable to be “invited” to the fairy world without fully understanding what they’d got into (whisky drinkers are plainly related to ancient bardic traditions and thus much more likely to go looking for such experiences than the sober), thus lessening the chance of nasty diplomatic situations.
Drink your irn bru kids, unless you want to be taken by the fairies
Shout out to writers out there spending hours, days, or weeks struggling with their stories - struggling to get the words right, struggling to make the story cohesive, struggling just to write
Shout out to writers who pour a ton of love, devolution and time into a story they’re super proud of and excited to share but end up getting little to no feed back on it
Shout out to writers who feel under appreciated in an environment where creative thinking is highly celebrated but so much of that enthusiasm is geared towards artists that they feel lost in the shadows
Shout out to writers who have quit because they felt their writing wasn’t good enough, because they weren’t getting any feedback, because no matter how much effort they expended, they got the same response they did when they started out
Shout out to writers who work their butts off to get exposure, to get themselves known and still end up with little to no recognition
Shout out to writers who stare down at their keyboard or empty Word document and wonder what the point is
Shout out to writers who continue to write regardless. Shout out to writers who need that support and love to keep writing. Shout out to writers who are told their works suck or they’re a terrible writer, and feel so discouraged they want to stop. Shout to writers who appreciate all notes - whether they’re reblogs or likes. Shout out to writers who get excited every time someone reblogs their fic.
Shout out to writers. To those who can spin out a fic easy, to those who have to spend so many stressful hours in front of a computer screen to just get out a sentence, to those who write original stuff, to those who write fanfiction, to all of those who write. A big, loving shout out to all y’all.
There is no greater sin you can commit against yourself than denying it from expression, regardless of the chaos and calamity it births from. There is exuberant beauty in misery. Untold wisdom in devolution. And dazzling brilliance in despair. Art is not true beauty. Expression is.