how this still exists is beyond me

10

Dylan’s journal

1: Fact: People are so unaware…. well, ignorance is bliss I guess…. that would explain my depression. - Dylan
A Virtual Book
EXISTENCES
By: Dylan
Properties: This book cannot be opened by anyone except Dylan (some supernatural force blocks common people from entering).
<<-VoDkA->>
<<-Dylan->> 
2: The 4 stages from within: most, few, some, none
Me is place outside all the boxes. 
3: El Thoughtzos
Ah yes, this is me writing … just writing, nobody technically did anything, just I felt like throwing out my thoughts - this is a weird time, weird life, weird existence. As I sit here (partially drunk with a screwdriver) I think a lot. Think … think … that’s all my life is, just shitloads of thinking … all the time … my mind never stops … music runs 24/7 (except for sleep), just songs I hear, not necessarily good or bad, & thinking … about the asshole - in gym class, how he worries me, about driving, & my family, about friends & doings with them, about girls I know (mainly - & -) how I know I can never have them, yet I can still dream … I do shit to supposedly ‘cleanse’ myself in a spiritual, moral sort of way (deleting the wads on my computer, not getting drunk for periods of time, trying not to ridicule/make fun of people (-) at school), yet it does nothing to help my life morally. My existence is shit to me - how I feel that I am in eternal suffering, in infinite directions in infinite realities. Yet these realities are fake - artificial, induced (?) by thought, how everything connects, yet it’s all so far apart … & I sit & think … science is the way to find solutions to everything, right? I still think that, yet I see different views of shit now - like the mind - yet if the mind is viewed scientifically … hmm
I dwell in the past … thinking of good & bad memories. 
4: A lot on the past though … I’ve always had a thing for the past - how it reacts to the present & the future - or rather vice versa. I wonder how/when I got so fucked up w my mind, existence, problem - when Dylan Bennet Klebold got covered up by this entity containing Dylan’s body … as I see the people at school - some good, some bad - I see how different I am (aren’t we all you’ll say) yet I’m on such a greater scale of difference than everyone else (as far as I know, or guess). I see jocks having fun, friends, women, LIVEZ. 
Or rather shallow existences compared to mine (maybe) like ignorance = bliss. They don’t know beyond this world (how I do in my mind or in reality or in this existence) yet we each are lacking something that the other possesses - I lack the true human nature that Dylan owned & they lack the overdeveloped mind/imagination/knowledge tool. I don’t fit in here thinking of suicide gives me hope, that I’ll be in my place wherever I go after this life … that I’ll finally not be at war with myself, the world, the universe - my mind, body, everywhere, everything at PEACE in me - my soul (existence). & the routine is still monotonous, go to school, be scared & nervous, hoping that people can accept me … that I can accept them … the NIN (Nine Inch Nails) song Piggy is good for thought writing … The Lost Highway sounds like a movie about me … I’m gonna write later, bye   <<-VoDkA->>
5: Da ThoughtZ Jeah
Well well, back at it, yes (you say) whoever the fuck ‘you’ is, but yea. My life is still fucked, in case you care … maybe, … (not?) I have just lost fuckin 45$, & before that I lost my zippo & knife (I did get those back) Why the fuck is he being such an ASSHOLE??? (god I guess, whoever is the being which controls shit). He’s fucking me over big time & it pisses me off. Oooh god I HATE my life, I want to die really bad right now - let’s see what I have that’s good: A nice family, a good house, food, a couple of good friends, & possessions. What’s bad - no girls (friends or girlfriends), no other friends except a few, nobody accepting me even though I want to be accepted, me doing badly & being intimidated in any & all sports, me looking weird & acting shy - BIG problem, me getting bad grades, having no ambition of life, that’s the big shit. Anyway … I was Mr. Cutter tonight - I have 11 depressioners on my right hand now, & my favorite contrasting symbol, because it is so true & means so much. The battle between good & bad never ends … OK enough bitchin … well I’m not done yet. OK go … I don’t know  why I do wrong with people (mainly women) - it’s like they are set out to hate & ignore me, I never know what to say or do. - is soo fuckin lucky he has no idea how I suffer. 
6: Okay here’s some poetry … this is a display of one man in search of answers, never finding them, yet in hopelessness understands things …
Existence … what a strange word. He set out by determination & curiosity, knows no existence, knows nothing relevant to himself. The pretty declarations of others & everything on this world, in this world, he knows the answers to. Yet they have no purpose to him. He seeks knowledge of the unthinkable, of the undefinable, of the unknown. He explores the everything … using his mind, the most powerful tool known to him. Not a physical barrier blocking the limits of exploration, time thru thought thru dimensions … the everything is his realm. Yet, the more he thinks, hoping to find answers to his questions, the more come up. Amazingly, the petty things mean much to him at this time, how he wants to be normal, not this transceiver of the everything. Then occurring to him, the answer. How everything is connected yet separate. By experiencing the petty others actions, reactions, emotions, doings and thoughts, he gets a mental picture of what, in his mind, is a cycle. Existence is a great hall, life is one of the rooms, death is passing thru the doors, & the ever existent compulsion of everything is the curiosity to keep moving down the hall, thru the doors, exploring rooms, down this never-ending hall. Questions make answers, answers conceive questions, and at long last he is content. TTYL  <<-VoDkA->>
7: Thoughtz                                                                                                          Yo … whassup … heheheheh … know what’s weird? Everyone knows everyone. I swear - like I’m an outcast, & everyone is conspiring against me … Check it … (this isn’t good, but I need to write, so here ….                                             Within the known limits of time … within the conceived boundaries of space … the average human thinks those are the settings of existence … yet the ponderer, the outcast, the believer, helps out the human. “Think not of 2 dimensions”, says the ponderer, “but of 3, as your world is conceived of 3 dimensions, so is mine. While you explore the immediate physical boundaries of your body, you see in your 3 dimensions - L, W, & H, yet I, who is more mentally open to anything, see my 3 dimensions. My realm of thought - Time, Space, & THOUGHT. Thought is the most powerful thing that exists - anything conceivable can be produced, anything & everything is possible, even in your physical world.” After this so called “lecture” the common man feels confused, empty, & unaware. Yet those are the best emotions of a ponderer. The real difference is, a true ponderer will explore these emotions & what caused them. Another … a dream.                                                                                         Miles & miles of never ending grass, like a wheat. A farm, sunshine, a happy feeling in the presence, Absolutely nothing wrong, nothing ever is, contrary 180 (degrees) to normal life. No awareness, just pure bliss, unexplainable bliss, The only challenges are no challenge, & then … BAM!!! realization sets in, the world is the greatest punishment. Life.                                                            8: Hypnosis place - It is a sky - with one large cloud, & sort of cloud-made chair - the sun is at the head of the chair … 10 o’clock up into the sky … Below, I sometimes see mist, & the green (forest green) earth - sorta a city, yet I hear nothing. I relax on this chair - actually like a chaise - & I am talking … to what? I don’t know - it’s just there, I have the feeling that I know him, even though I consciously don’t … & we talk like we are the same person - like he’s my soul … The everlasting contrast …                                                                              Dark. Light. God. Lucifer. Heaven. Hell. GOOD. BAD. Yes, the everlasting-contrast. Since existence has known the ‘fight’ between good & evil has continued. Obviously, this fight can never end. Good things turn bad, bad things become good, the ‘people’ on the earth see it as a battle they can win. HA fuckin morons. If people looked at History, they would see what happens. I think, too much, I understand, I am GOD compared to some of those un-existable brainless zombies. Yet, the actions of them interest me, like a kid with a new toy. Another contrast, more of a paradox, actually, like the advanced go for the undevelopeds realm, while some of the morons become everything dwellers - but exceptions to every rule, & this is a BIG exception - most morons never change, they never decide to live in the ‘everything’ frame of mind!              Laterz           <<-VoDkA->>                                                                                   9: <<-VoDkA->>’s Thoughts                                                                                   The - Situation                                                                                                             It is not good for me right now (like it ever is) … but anyway … My best friend ever: the friend who shared, experimented, laughed, took chances with & appreciated me more than any friend ever did has been ordained … “passed on” … in my book. Ever since - (who I wouldn’t mind killing) has loved him … that’s the only place he’s been with her … if anyone had any idea how sad I am … I mean we were the TEAM. When him & I first were friends, well I finally found someone who was like me: who appreciated me & shared very common interests. Ever since 7th grade, I’ve felt lonely … when - came around, I finally felt happiness (sometimes) we did cigars, drinking, sabotage to houses, EVERYTHING for the first time together & now that he’s “moved on” I feel so lonely, without a friend. Oh well, maybe he’ll come around -> … I hope.               That’s all - for this topic - maybe I’ll never see this again. (-> ô=-   -=ô)                 <<-VoDkA->>                                                                                                                10: My 1st Love????                                                                                               OH my God … I am almost sure I am in love … with -. Hehehe … such a strange name, like mine … yet everything about her I love. From her good body to her almost perfect face, her charm, her wit & cunning, her NOT being popular. Her friends (who I know) - some - I just hope she likes me as much as I LOVE her. I think of her every second of every day. I want to be with her. I imagine me & her doing things together, the sound of her laugh, I picture her face, I love her. If - soulmates exist, then I think I’ve found mine. I hope she likes Techno … :-)             -, I love you                                                                                                             - Dylan

The anxiety is mostly gone. I haven’t had a huge panic attack in a few days. But the sadness of my depression has returned. It feels almost like a painful pit in my chest that I can’t seem to get rid of or ignore. The sadness overwhelms me and fills my eyes with tears much of the time. I’m on a new antidepressant, but I don’t have much hope for it. The last bunch I’ve tried have been failures and this one feels no different. 

There is a new treatment option put before me. Something offered at my doctor’s office now. Ketamine. They’ve had some impressive results relieving depression with injections. Some people see results the first day of taking the medicine. Unfortunately it is a not a commonly accepted treatment for depression yet and is not covered by insurance. It costs $100 per shot. They may last a week. They may last a month. I don’t even know if it will help or not, but I am scrounging the money together to at least give it a try. If it does work. I’ll have to figure out the money part later. 

The days are so hard to get through. I try to do my normal things. Work on my tumblr and my comic. I’m afraid photography is just too hard to do right now. Which I think adds to my sadness. I’ve had to cancel visits with friends because I can’t find the energy for even a short visit and they all live sort of far away. Seeing them for five or ten minutes would not be practical. I have my parents and Otis, which does help a little. Having their support has been integral to keeping going, but it’s just not enough to pull me out of this slump. 

I guess this is my all time low. My friend mentioned that she doesn’t think she has ever seen me this distraught. I’ve had some rough patches before, but I must agree, this one is a doozy. I still have the will to live. I don’t think about killing myself. But I don’t feel much like I am actually living. Just merely existing. Hope is so hard to come by. I have this expensive shot that might help, and there is still shock therapy, but beyond that, I don’t know what else could pull me out of this. 

I’ve had to adapt to my health failing before. I’ve taken my new “normal” and figured out a way to make some kind of life out of it. But I’m really afraid that this time I won’t be able to adapt. I won’t be able to solve how to live with my health continuing on like this. It scares me and adds to my anxieties. I have two close friends that I talk to on a regular basis and I have had so much trouble keeping up communication. This deep sadness I feel is so damning. 

I wish I had more hopeful things to say. Maybe these ketamine shots will be an answer for me. Maybe shock therapy will be. Maybe I will just gradually work my way out of this pit of sadness. I don’t know. I guess I will just try to keep going. One day at a time. 

iamleighbot  asked:

Can't send the symbol because tumblr Hates me with a passion but I'd love to see hair washing and any Star Wars pairing you choose! Especially if it's post-battle or something and it's aftercare related.

There’s blood in her hair. 

“Jyn,” he says, quiet in respect for the night, and Jyn makes a move like she’d be startled if she had the energy for it. 

“Sorry.” She’s quiet too. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I wasn’t asleep.” Cassian sits up. There’s blood across her face too, and on her clothes. She must have come right from the mission; she’s not the one who has to debrief her missions. A part of Cassian is glad that he’s not the one who has to be debriefing right now, so he can be here, right now, though the larger part still hates whenever she leaves without him. Maybe he could have stopped some of the blood on her right now, if he’d have been there. 

“It’s not mine,” she tries for a cocky smile, but it’s just exhausted. Cassian understands, all too well. “I’m fine.” 

“Good.” She does smile at that, because she knows how it says all the things they don’t dare say, not now. Not in the middle of a war. They don’t say it, and they don’t talk about how they sleep in the same bed and don’t sleep when the other’s away. Instead, Cassian gets to his feet, lets the blankets fall away from him. “You shouldn’t sleep like that.” 

“I’m tired.” 

“You’ll feel better clean.” He runs his hands over her shoulders, down her arms. It’ll get blood on his hands. It won’t be the first time, or the last. “Shower first.” 

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A Human And An Archangel

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader
Words:   827

-It’s a fluffy Gabriel one shot…just read it. haha. I’m kidding…but summaries are hard for me-

A/N: If you want to be tagged in anything, let me know. :)



         “Hello, Boys,” Gabriel’s voice already held the teasing tone everyone was used to from him, “Oh, and my sweet little Cupcake,” he grinned at you.

           You rolled your eyes, “No flattery today, Gabriel. It’s time to get down to work and we need your help.”

           “I’ll do anything for you,” he said.

           “Gabriel, leave Y/N alone and come over here,” Dean insisted from where he and Sam were sitting at the table with books open.

           Gabriel chuckled, “We’ll resume later,” he said, turning to the guys and going over to be filled in on what was going on.

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This is something I have been trying to write for months and months. Forgive me if it goes astray from being coherent or making sense… but the last however long it’s been amount of months that I have been absent from your life has been a time of paradoxical strangeness, indifference and outright mental solitude and exhibition at the same time. I write in a way in which I am comfortable.. so if it seems outlandish, false or full of hyperbole then I apologize. At this moment in life, the catharsis of just putting these words finally out is already doing much towards my recovery.

This is for you… but more so for me.  

“…this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board washed and bound like crooked teeth…”

I suppose I should begin by apologizing, mostly to those who cared for me most.. those whom which I was deeply engaged with in one way or another, those who most likely felt abandoned upon my swift exit. I am truly sorry… and while apologies are words fleeting off into eternity, and while I could sit and try to explain myself, I don’t know how much it would matter. You can however take the absolutely barren feeling deep within my guts as an indication of how I feel about the impact I know i potentially caused.  

Sometimes what is most necessary in our lives is not what is comfortable or even right to others. Sometimes our greatest triumphs come from our worst tragedies. Sometimes you just cannot explain yourself, your actions, or your feelings in a way that makes sense to others. And that’s ok.

I didn’t know at the time how much and in what ways that grief would affect me. Unfortunately for others, it affected me in a way that ripped me out of everything from my comfort zone to my existence in your life. In all my endless diatribes and moments of influence and advice, I always advocated that it was okay to show weakness… to lean on those who love you, and in that moment when the reality of my own situation came into fruition… I failed.  

I failed to realize that it would be alright for me to show myself as vulnerable, and I failed to lean on you for the comfort and support I so desperately needed at the time. I failed you and everyone else who needed me most, and when I needed you all most I walked away and rejected what was openly available to me. For that… I am truly sorry.

To ask where I have been… is to look into the ocean.  

“….always running out of fight so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea…”

My life has been a raging crashing tempest, mixed with medication.. ups, downs, failures, progress and revelations. I never realized a person and their death from this earth could crush me the way it did.. especially given the circumstances. I spend so much time keeping myself shrouded in mystery and carefully constructed walls.. so I will be as transparent as possible.

Prior to his death, I had not spoken to him in a major amount of years. I had no resolve for the events of my childhood… for his absence in my life… for the things he did and did not do, and everything else in between. Like many and perhaps most reading this, my parents ended their marriage when I was rather young. What followed was years of ignorance, years of not knowing my worth to anyone… years of solitude and quest for significance. Along the way there were flimsy glimmers of hope… a random card here, a 20 dollar bill there, a passing wave while walking down the street… but otherwise he was content to his own, and I soon became to mine.  

As I grew older I developed this sense that I would never really know him, and in his final years I so desperately wanted to. Letter after letter.. call after call… all unanswered… all ignored.. and these fleeting blurry memories in my mind. The last time I saw him, he hugged me and told me he was proud of me. He smiled that big smile… and told me he would call.  

6 years of silence later, I saw him again for the first time… laying in a bed half covered and struggling for life. No one told me he had been sick, no one informed me that he had but moments to live. There are many would haves… could haves.. should haves…  

there are many never dids, never weres and now.. never will be.  

I never got to speak with him because he was never awake. I simply sat there that day clutching his large hands, softly stroking his falling out white hair… and wishing he would wake up and give me that huge smile… that his blue eyes like oceans would gaze at me. Every time I tried to leave that room, I couldn’t… I kept turning back. “He’s going to wake up 5 seconds after I’m gone.”… I had to be physically restrained and removed.

And he didn’t wake up.  

The funeral was overwhelming. Public. And that’s when everything was learned…  

How this person who was a ghost to me most of my life was so much to so many other people. How he was a superhero among his community and the communities of others. How he had helped so many other children, families and friends… how valued he was to everyone except me. Even the governor showed up.. the news… the papers.. … amongst the literal close to a thousand others who did to be washed in the media circus and the aftermath of a life that I was now finding out was actually well lived. Each with a story about him. Each with a laugh. Each with a smile.

But not me. All I had was a hastily put together book of pictures and clippings and remembrances. And even that would be taken from me.  

In the end I was left with nothing… and now all these months later…  

I still have nothing. And all I want is closure. And it is something that I will never have.  

“….we only have what we remember…”

I returned home and immediately went into grief counseling the same day. I fired my therapist for a new one.. I became medicated,… I took advice… changed the things in my life.. my eating.. my feelings.. got a therapy dog.. I did what I was told, advised and ordered.. fired my therapist again… and so forth and so on…. and I needed some time away.

But the more time I spent away, the further I slipped into myself… the further I slipped away from you, and this, and everything important to my life. The more guilty I felt for leaving… the more overwhelmed I became by the thoughts that everyone would be angry at me.. and the longer I was gone, the more I pushed myself farther.

Sometimes a person can live with such regret for their actions that it causes them to perform them more.

I never expected any of this.  

I never expected to feel the way I did. to end up how I did. to be gone so long. to be so isolated and gone. I didn’t feel worthy of having others depend on me for anything when I felt like I was nowhere near able to be dependable. My strength had been robbed.. my ability to be this strong pillar of value had gone away.

This one person in my life, who was never really in my life… affected it in such a way as to completely separate me from everything I knew and loved and my entire existence and made me question beyond reason…  and I will never have the answers I need. I crave. I deserve…  Yes, therapy has been going great… yes I have made many strides.. yes, I have changed in many ways… but…  

Its taken a really long time to find myself here again. To even consider myself able to be here.

Things still aren’t even anywhere close to how I want them to be mentally and emotionally… and they probably never will be. Because he cannot wake up to explain this life I have endured to me… he wont wake up to give me closure.  

They say that everyone grieves in their own way. I chose to make mine destructive to others by cutting the snake off at its head… I just didn’t realize how it would affect anyone in my life it until it was too late.  

And then I woke up yesterday… and felt I was able to sit down… and do what I had been wanting to do for a very long time.  

And then, I logged into my tumblr for the first time in 9 months…  

“…Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected our bones grown together inside our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided our spines grown stronger in time because our church is made out of shipwrecks from every hull these rocks have claimed but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change so come on y'all and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach…”

I spent the better part of my day yesterday going through 2000+ messages I have received since March. The well wishes, the love, the thoughts and expressions of gratitude. the pictures, the stuffies, the hundreds of PM’s… the puppies and kitties..the boobs, the butts, the smiles, the drawings..  the socks and knee highs.. the physical exhibitionist expressions of gratitude… the hamsters and snakes and gerbils..the anons and the faithful.. . the continuing follows and questions and request for bedtime stories.. the small paragraphs from those whose lives had been utterly changed just by spending 15 minutes reading my material… those who discovered me while i was gone and had their lives changed instantly.… the fact that on a daily basis I am still getting all of these, even though I have been an apparition for the better part of almost a year…. and for the first time since March, I felt sparks of Daddy space flickering inside of me. Since March I have been totally empty and desolate.

I discovered in my submissions, asks and pm section… in the 2000+ followers gained while I was away.. People still continue to care about me.. to wonder… to keep me in their thoughts. a truly humbling feeling considering that I expected to log in for the first time since March and see nothing but disappointment from everyone. I expected people to feel like I didn’t care about them. and that is absolutely not true at all. I laughed and cried.. I felt regret… I felt guilt and shame… I felt happiness and love… my jaw hit my desk a few times.. and ultimately I figured out that I do still matter. But then I don’t really know if I do…  

It all just leaves me asking for forgiveness… mainly for falling off for so long. mainly because I know the effects it had.. mainly because I feel absolutely wrecked and sick about it all.  

But what comes from pain and suffering is what you create from that pain and suffering. What is left over is what you decide. Its not easy, its not simple. Believe me.. my life is anything but simple in these last 9 months… but I discovered that this lifestyle will never leave me, even if I leave it. It will always be there, because it is who I am. It is what I am. It is everything I have ever been… so should I come back? Should I… even be worthy of returning?  

I guess I will wait and see… because this blog was always for you. the littles.. the daddies.. the struggling.. the hurt… the lost.. the broken and distraught. The ones just like yourself.. and just like me. And despite sometimes being a total jerk.. despite sometimes disappearing… despite all of my own problems… I always did everything I did to better the lives of others in so that they may succeed. I didn’t always achieve that goal.. and sometimes I probably even prevented it.  

And I am sorry.  Please… please please…. forgive me.

If I could go back to 9 months ago, tell myself then what I know now.. tell myself then how it would all turn out… and give myself that wisdom to be able to handle it all properly, then this would never have been written.  

But what’s done is how it was all meant to go down really, and our mistakes are not our failures. They are our lessons. some harder learned than others. cant change the ones I have made.. I can only hope that I will be able to make them right. I edited this writing 7 times over the course of 24 hours… and something in it probably still isn’t right, or doesn’t say what it should… or… is just…. rambling. Some of you may never understand… or, maybe you do all too well. I have no room to judge or say…  

“…come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever… we only have what we remember…”

… what do I do?

Do I come back?

Please tell me why I still look past all of the bad. Why do I so easily forget the not so fond memories? Why do I instantly let these go? Why am I always able to believe again.. to love again.. to want again? What makes him so damn different to everyone else? What parts of him live within me? Why does time never seem to exist between us.. do we exist beyond time? Why do I make sense of all of his faults with love and with my own past experiences? How am I ever supposed to stop loving him unconditionally?
—  questions I ask the moon 🌙

….you know, considering how much talk there is in the ace community about how asexuality and aromanticism exist on a spectrum– of “grayness” and differing types of attractions with occasional attention paid to diversity of one kind or another– it both amazes and frustrates me how so many of the same people who speak of these things still seem to operate based on the very same assumption that exists within society at large: that everyone is (allo)romantic and / or (allo)sexual by default unless explicitly stated otherwise.

while i understand that aces (and aros) internalize and subsequently have to unlearn amatonormativity and sexnormativity (and heteronormativity) just the same as everyone else and that there’s also likely an element of self-defense / self-preservation involved, it is beyond frustrating every time i see or am subjected to microaggressions from aces who adhere to the very same “______ by default unless otherwise stated” mindset that exists within society at large– except, in my humble opinion, that assumption has now been compounded upon within the asexual community à la the split attraction model and subsequent prevalence of “asexuals have a (a)romantic orientation by default".

but that’s a post for another time.

“spectrum”, “grayness”– nothing but empty lip service when the very same people who speak of such things simultaneously attempt to draw lines in the sand where there ought to be none, only acknowledge said grayness when it is explicitly stated or embraced as an identity and / or make assumptions about a person’s experience with attraction based solely on the lack of a particular identity– or conversely, based on the explicit presence of an identity that is assumed to mean something that it very well may not thanks to the existing dichotomy and yet simultaneously inseparable nature of amatonormativity and sexnormativity (and heteronormativity) and its continued influence upon and within the asexual community.

i am tired of navigating various fissures in the asexual community and ending up worse off for it, time and time again becoming more and more disgruntled to the point of feeling the need to distance myself from the “community” all together. The Thing that continues to motivate me, apart from sheer stubbornness, is the thought of others who find themselves navigating these fissures with me.

We are not alone in the universe...I found proof on the dark web.

“It’s said that evil prevails when good men do nothing.” Those were once words that comforted me.

I don’t know how much time I have left, all I know is that in the face of uncertainty, an even greater fear exists in knowing that I alone shoulder the weight of knowing the truth….

I’d like to tell you that these words come from a place of analytical stillness, instead of the harsh reality that scares me beyond words. now, The fear that plagues me is very real, justified by earth-shaking implications that accompany Its looming presence.

Keep reading

Most cishet aces who force themselves into the LGBT+ community are probably white.

Did I catch your attention? Good.

Probably (no, change that to definitely) gonna get a lot of hate for this but honestly… I really don’t give a shit. Hear me out on this.

I’m a cishet ace and I’m comfortable with labelling myself as such. I’m also a black woman. What is the connection between these two you might ask?

As a black woman I’m part of the group that’s being oppressed by white people and by men in general. As a cishet ace I’m part of the group that oppresses members of the LGBT+ community, even if I don’t partake in actively oppressing them. THIS is why I can actually put myself in the place of the oppressed group because I actually know how it feels to be in that position.

When my oppressors (white people and cishet men) use the N-word, stereotype/harass/fetishize/dehumanize/discriminate me and blatantly appropriate black culture while remaining extremely anti-black, it angers me to the point where I think that most white people are this racist and most (cishet) men are beyond sexist.

This mindset is really similar to how members of the LGBT+ community feel towards cishets. And me being ace but still a cishet isn’t going to change that. I’m not trying to excuse myself from my cishet privilege, but these feelings are definitely similar towards each other.

When you’re not part of an oppressed group (in this case cishet white people), you will never know how it feels. And not being able to experience that doesn’t make it easier to put yourself in someone else’s shoes. And that, my friends, is why the ace discourse exists.

(Most) straight cis white people continue to search for something they can be oppressed/be part of something for and being a cishet ace is the one thing they basically don’t have to change for at all. That’s why so many cishet aces are so eager to join the LGBT+ community and when they’re not doing that, they create something like ‘white feminism’. Because they’re probably white with the exact mindset I mentioned above.

I’ve highlighted this in a couple of posts already but, just to be sure, I’ll say it again:

CISHET ACES WERE NOT, ARE NOT AND WILL NEVER. BE. OPPRESSED. A LACK OF REPRESENTATION DOES NOT, AND I REPEAT, DOES NOT EQUAL OPPRESSION. YOU HAVE CISHET PRIVILEGE. GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS AND STAY THE FUCK OUT OF PLACES THAT AREN’T THERE FOR YOU BUT FOR OPPRESSED PEOPLE THAT ACTUALLY NEED SOME KIND OF COMMUNITY.

Wanna feel special as a staight cis white person? Realize the privileges you have that many people that don’t fit that particular mold could only dream of. Taking oppressed people’s communities as your own on top of you own privileges makes you a terrifyingly ignorant person.

commonaddictwithapen  asked:

I'm writing a story as told by an outside narrator that mainly focuses on my main character's thoughts and feelings. In one part of the story, she takes shelter with her mother who abandoned her at a young age and her father who was told that she had died. For most of this, my main character ignores her mother out of spite, but the mother still lives there and has her own life. So, how do I write the story with her ignoring her mother but without having the reader forget she exists?

Okay, so first of all, I LOVE your profile pic!  Nabooru is the queen of OoT and no one can convince me otherwise.

For your question, though, I think it’s important to establish if you want your character to really ignore their mother or to pretend to ignore their mother.  The difference is that if they’re really beyond caring/thinking about their mother, or if they’re attempting to cut their mother out but haven’t yet.  These are two very different situations to tackle.

If you’re talking about the former situation, your character is only going to really notice their mother when their lives intersect beyond the everyday activities. A person can ignore their roommate on most accounts by sticking to their own space and avoiding each other’s routines (when they eat, when they shower, etc.).  They’d only interact due to necessity – grocery shopping, chores, rent – or due to accidental meetings, or due to an effort on the part of the mother.  Of course, they wouldn’t forget each other’s existence – but their day-to-day lives shouldn’t involve each other too much.  Your character will think about their mother from time to time, and may reach out to her on particularly good days (or particularly bad ones), but that’s something to be done at your leisure.

The latter, however, is a bit more complicated.  If the protagonist wants to avoid their mother while also struggling with feelings (even bitterness) toward her, their daily life will be more challenging.  They’ll carry on in their own affairs, but occasionally, curiosity will beckon.  If they hear their mother walking around in the middle of the night, they’ll wonder why.  If their mother starts buying more alcohol, they’ll wonder if everything’s all right.  If something’s going on in their personal life, they may feel the urge to share this with their mother, even if they aren’t close with her.  If there are any emotional ties, even buried behind anger, that’ll make it more difficult to maintain separate lives.

It really just depends on your characters and your situation, though, so if you need any more advice, you can message me to discuss it further.  Otherwise, I hope this helps you <3  Good luck!


If you need advice on general writing or fanfiction, you should maybe ask me!

Wings

A/N -Okay people, there’s some latin in this for a spell that I totally made up. I used google translate (if you’re into that kinda thing, translate the spell and be amazed) and don’t think that the spell in this exists. There’s no way angels can hide their true forms, amiright? On another note, how would people feel about me posting non-reader insert-y things as well? (mainly Destiel and Sabriel one shots) And lastly, requests are totally OPEN!

Title - Wings

Pairing - Fallen Angel!Reader x Gabriel

Warnings - implied sexy times, little bit of blood, some language, kisses, latin spells 

Word Count - 917

Theme Song - “Wings” by Birdy 

Imagine being afraid to show Gabriel your wings which were injured beyond repair when you fell.

Originally posted by w-inchesterbrothers

Sunlight is creeping through the windows; illuminating and warming the car with the glow of morning.

Sleep. You’re still getting used to many aspects of human life, sleep being one of them. You’ve found that it helps to have someone like the archangel who you’re currently curled up against in the backseat of a car. He knows the human world like the back of his hand and has always been there when you need him to be, even before you fell.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Gabriel murmurs into your ear.

“Morning,” you reply with a yawn, turning your head to find yourself staring into those whiskey eyes of his. “Thanks for last night. I … I really enjoyed it.”

Gabe had conjured up a beautiful vintage car and driven you up to a hilltop. Down below was a concert, even from the distance the music was still clear. The two of you had sat on the hood of the car and listened and talked and then he’d kissed you. Not like you haven’t kissed him before, but something about it was different this time. One thing led to another and, let’s just say, the car got pretty heated.

“Thank you.” Gabriel grins, pecking a kiss to your lips. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“I suppose …” You reply.

“I know you fell, there’s no denying that, but why can’t I see your wings anymore? Or even your true form for that matter?” Gabriel runs a gentle hand along your back from one shoulder blade to the other.

You quickly avert your eyes, shifting to sit up. A part of you knew it was inevitable; that he’d begin to ask questions eventually. But with becoming human, come human emotions and unluckily for you, emotions are getting the better of you.

“Y/N …” Gabe sits up behind you, “I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s just - I’m worried about you.”

You gulp. 

“I used a spell to conceal my true form from the view of anyone.” You can feel tears stinging behind your eyes and it’s all you can do to bite them back.Gabriel is silent, just staring at you with concern in his eyes.

“When I fell, I was injured very badly.” Whatever part of you that was holding back lets go and you begin to tell him everything. “I had put myself back together slightly when I found you. But I was hurt so badly that I don’t think my wings will ever look the same or be healed completely. My true form is so - so -”

The tears finally break free as you choke over the state of your once graceful body. Gabriel pulls you into an embrace, squeezing you tightly to him.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful.” He whispers, “And you know what, having battle scars shows that you’re tough, you’re strong and you’ve lived through hell. To me that’s more beautiful than anything.”

You sniff and wipe your cheeks, leaning back from Gabe, but still making sure he’s holding on to you.

“You really want to see them?” You ask, warily.

“If you’re ready to show me.” The archangel nods, sliding his hands down from your arms to take your hands in his. “Just this once. Then you can hide them again, if you want.”

You nod slowly, and let go of one of Gabriel’s hands to pick up your angel blade from your coat which is laying on the floorboard. Taking a deep breath in, you slide the blade across the palm of your hand, wincing, and then raise it to let a drop of blood drip onto your forehead.

“Revocacionem incantandi se recondens meum veram formam assim.” You recite the latin spell for reversal and your vessel begins to glow with the blue light of your grace.

You close your eyes and let the spell completely wear off. This kind of magic hid you from others, but no amount of hoodoo can hide you from your own eyes. You’d been forced to stare at your real self every time you looked in a mirror. Now it is time to let go and be free. That’s one of the other things Gabriel has taught you: free will.

“Father, Y/N, you are so beautiful.” Your eyes snap open when Gabriel speaks.

His eyes are wide and he is smiling. You turn your head just slightly to see the battle torn wings that belong to you. They aren’t nearly as thick as they used to be, but there they are, all six of your wings. Some parts seem absolutely shredded to the bone with only a few feathers left, and, where once they were completely silver and gray, smatters of crimson stain the tips of all of them. You feel another rush of tears coming on as you look at the mess of feathers, bone and blood stains, but before you realize it Gabriel’s lips collide with yours. His hand comes up to cup your face and you let yours rise up to run through his hair.

“Personally,” Gabe murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours, “I think your wings are badass and anybody who says otherwise is a grade-a douchebag.”

You let a small smile creep onto your face, as you pull him back to you, returning to that passionate kiss. Somehow, now you know that you won’t be hiding your wings. Sure they aren’t quite the same as Gabe’s full golden ones, but your wings are your own. They’re damaged and they’re battle scarred and they’re unique.  

Long, long day. Mostly because I spent last night working and got sick. Now I’m rather ill right now but not too much not to do some work. My doctor wants to speak to a name author about how I go about publishing The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy–Book II: The Saga of Thranduil. I often wonder how someone can do so much outside of their original capacity to help someone they believe in. My family never did that. Now that my story has slipped far beyond the boundaries of its humble beginnings on Tumblr, they still refuse to acknowledge the existence of my book or me of that matter.

My doctor is determined that this book get published–so much so she is “lending” her copy of my first hard copy to my new doctor (she retires on April 24 so next week is our last day together). She doesn’t want to let anyone have her copy of my book and “can’t wait to see it in print” and wonders if this could be what I make a living doing.

Not even the good review will make my family budge–not one eye blinking. I wonder if I should just give up on them. I don’t want to because of my father I have not yet seen (once again, I have no access to him and they aren’t blinking an eye about that either). Evil comes in all forms and most of them are closest to you–at least in my world.

A promise is a promise and I made it to my father and I will finish my book. Where it leads when it is done (in any form including the full trilogy) may just be to Scotland. My doctor believes that no one [here] would appreciate my story more than the United Kingdom and that is where the major studio following me is located. They are partnered with the studio that brought you “Lion” and the BBC, History Channel and have a contract with Martin Freeman (irony not lost on me with that one).

Tell my family that–nothing. If I get anywhere in life, I’m sure I’ll get a phone call should I show up at the Oscars or in an article with J.K. Rowling or something. I could be on one of my other books (not Middle Earth related) by then. I’d do anything to be able to know my father could see me if that happened. I will blame them if he gets worse or lost. Whenever he wanders off, he is only trying to go one place–to my house. That’s the only place he wants to go. I know my father loves me and I hope he knows I love him too before his mind shuts him off to the world completely and he’s wondering in darkness. That will happen as Alzheimer’s is a horrific disease to have when your youth was filled with scientific equations and researching cures for illnesses such as this.

I’ll face 10,000 dragons for my father–even if I have to go it alone (though thankfully, my doctor did what my mother would have done so I haven’t walked this far alone. And then there’s my beloved readers and followers and the Mythopoeic Society and a couple of published authors and a few Scots. You’ll notice no family there. Like at my birth, I was left to wait for someone to come along and claim me. That was my mom and dad. Now they are out of my reach (my mother has been dead for almost 20 years), I am again waiting to be claimed. Just want to belong somewhere. Who doesn’t?

I am grateful for what I have–which is far more than most but less than I had before. I am richer for having gone down this road than had I didn’t take the chance. Wherever I go now is in the hands of fate on April 28, 2017. I know it will bring chaos as it once did the last time I “finished” the book. This time it will be the complete story of Thranduil and there are far more people that want it to become a book people can buy in a bookstore. Tensions are high now–mostly between me and my family but there is the “good” chaos.

Things had to fall apart to come together. Looking back, I didn’t realize how the dominos were lined up waiting to start falling in line. From learning my father was ill and I had to change course; someone on Pinterest photobombing me with images of some strange blonde elf from a film I didn’t see until one day I just had to see what the fuss was about and bought the entire trilogy in one day and watched it that same night in my basement waiting out severe weather; hearing Lee Pace’s voice that forever will be stuck in my head; feeling all was lost and not taken seriously until I heard the voice that spoke to me and I never stopped writing my story to this day. When I thought no one was looking, I learned the world and continues to do so. I never thought I would end up where I am today–on the brink of possibly making history because of three little words: “I am Thranduil”.

Someone posted J.R.R. Tolkien for me–a video of the man himself talking about how he came up with the “beginning” (which actually was his Book II). When I heard him speak for the first time, I knew. I felt a sense of home; a kinship as it were. I didn’t feel as if I was doing something to be ashamed of. It was a peaceful moment. My mind was calm and for the first time in a long time, I knew. I belonged somewhere. He sounded how I always imagined. Exactly like that voice that started me on this journey that told me why I write in the first place: “To see beyond all that lingers”.

I will go home one day. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was three–to go to the Land of Tolkien.–J.

Image: ©2012. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey. All Rights Reserved.

Image: ©2013. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. All Rights Reserved.

Image: ©2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

TRUE ROMANCE XI + Book 2 of Soul Mate [also on AO3]


Summary: What if second chances did exist…except in another lifetime?

A/N: My dudes, that chapter is finally here! Sorry I said it was last chapter, I could’ve sworn it was…any who, enjoy! P.S. for those who don’t read smut, I added three little * to section off where the smut begins/ends.

Warning: Soft smut,  but literally it’s not to detail and is kinda short…?

Word Count: 3.4K+

TRUE ROMANCE MASTERLIST 


Tossing and turning in bed, you clutched tightly against your sheets as your eyebrows knitted, beads of sweat trickling down your forehead as you felt yourself getting lost in your nightmare.  “And what if I do not?”

Soon to regret his question, you were instantly ripped from the spot you were standing in, now in Snokes hold as his lanky fingers wrapped around your neck. “She dies.”

“Let her go!” Kylo shouted, instantly sticking out his hand as he ripped Snokes grip off of you, watching you fall to your knees. “She has nothing to do with this!”

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Dear 100 fandom

You know what I don’t get? How Clexa stans adore calling Bellarkers homophobes for shipping Clarke with Bellamy (not all, but come on you guys absolutely love this argument). But in doing so they are ignoring the fact that Clarke is BIsexual. THAT IS BIPHOBIA. If she was endgame with a male, it would not make her any more or less bisexual then if she was endgame with a female. You are basically saying “nope, you can’t be bisexual if you’re with someone of the opposite sex” You’re fucking doing what bisexual people are faced with every day. I understand that all of tv is heteronormative couples and that it will be nice to have representation but you guys aren’t realizing that by creating the notion that Clarke+Bellamy= a straight couple, you are IGNORING that Clarke is STILL bisexual. You are IGNORING WHAT IT MEANS TO BE BISEXUAL. You are doing exactly what bisexual individuals everywhere face on the daily. Feeling like they are not valid. Feeling like they live in a world which is just black and white, that you either have to be straight or gay, you either like girls or boys. That in order to be considered bisexual you must be with the same sex. That you can’t call yourself bisexual if you’re with someone of the opposite sex. Don’t you see that you are not helping the situation at all? Bellarke would not be a heteronormative couple. CUZ GUESS WHAT?????? CLARKE IS STILL BISEXUAL. She likes BOTH males and females. WOW AMAzing that exists right??? Acting like Bellamy and Clarke together would be a straight couple is literally like going up to her and saying “look you’re with the opposite sex now, so you’re not actually bisexual. You’re straight.” I’m sorry but it doesn’t fucking work that way. She still enjoys both vagina and penis. You all go on and on about how important representation is, and as a bisexual, I fucking agree with you. And I am beyond happy to FINALLY see a character I can relate to. But I also can’t tell you how many times someone has told me that I’m not bisexual, just because I’m a girl who is with a guy. And I can’t tell you how much that fucking hurts. To be denied of my own identity just because the person I fell in love with and began a relationship with is someone of the opposite sex. I get told I must not actually be bisexual then, I’m just straight. You all reblog things on the daily about “protect young bisexual girls,” and “protect bisexuals who’ve never been with the same sex”, and etc but then as soon as you don’t see what you like you whip out the homophobic card and act like Clarke can’t be bisexual if she’s with a man. Can I just say: STOP ACTING LIKE BELLARKE IS A STRAIGHT FUCKING COUPLE. STOP ACTING LIKE CLARKE BEING ENDGAME WITH A MALE MEANS SHE’S SOMEHOW “LESS BISEXUAL.” STOP SAYING THAT YOURE ALL FOR REPRESENTATION WHEN YOU’RE OFF CALLING BELLARKE HETERONORMATIVE AND THUS IGNORING CLARKES BI-SEXU-FUCKING-ALITY (AKA SHE LIKES BOTH BOYS AND GIRLS) Do I have to repeat that???? Clarke + boy = still bisexual

White Sheets (Miss Frank & Mr. A'noai Interlude)

She’s so beautiful in her sleep.

I reach a hand over her naked back, gliding my fingertips over her warm skin. The glow from the sun places a halo over her body. She looks like an angel… A thoroughly, well fucked angel. All thanks goes to myself of course.

“Hmm”, she sleepily hummed.

I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth, suppressing a grin. She slightly stirred as if she heard my thoughts. If she could hear them, I could hear her calling me a narcissistic prick in response. I chuckle.

Being away from her for a month was pure torture and I resented my job as a CEO the whole time. I was opening a new office here in New York which required me to stand through countless hours of interviewing candidates, securing contracts, finalizing construction and meeting with my financial advisors. When I started to feed into the flirtatious run-ins with a new employee I’d hired, that’s when I knew it had been too long. She’s a long legged blonde with crystal blue eyes that’s training to be one of the receptionists. Christina isn’t quite my type but when she grabbed my dick in my office last week, she would’ve been pleasingly gagged while being rammed on top of my desk. By nature, that’s exactly what would’ve happened. I would’ve fucked then fired her right after. Can’t let her work for me and risk there being gossip in my establishment of our encounter. So I gave her a choice: Either keep this job or start looking for another one. She hesitantly chose to stay, but I can see it in her eyes that she would’ve chosen the latter. My affect on women is never to be underestimated. It can be quite shameful at times. That’s when I knew I had to get her out here.

I reflect back to the last orgasm I squeezed out of her before we finally tapped out. My tongued flickered lazily on her swollen clit, as she massaged my head. Laying my face on her thigh, I tilted her ass at an angle so my tongue could still play. She was beyond worn out but I couldn’t get enough of her taste, her curvaceous temple, and her sex infected voice. After 8:30 PM, I lost track of time of how long I’d been inside her. Time just cease to exist when we’re together.

___

“You’re going to get dry mouth”, she sighs.

“Not while it’s continuously flooding down here.” I suck her whole clit into my mouth, dragging it out slowly.

She arches, “Mmm! But I think you’ve drained me out of orgasms.” She tosses her arms over her head.

I chuckle, tightening my hold on her ass. “With me sweetheart, that’ll never happen.”

___

“Calm down, Legend.” I mumble, aggravatingly grabbing my twitchy morning wood.

I look back at the hot therapist beside me and see a slight frown in her brow. Suddenly her hand comes from underneath her pillow, reaching out to my side. Her fingers grace my arm, then her frown straightened into a ghost of a smile.

I take her hand, delicately kissing it. “I’m here, Miss Frank.”

“Just checking, Mr. A'noai.”

Favorite PH recurring theme

“I was born with red eyes and I’ve been through a lot because of that, but I never considered myself unfortunate.  Thanks to these eyes I came to understand how cruel and despicable people can be.  But that also allowed me to appreciate true beauty.  All you have to do is look at things from a different perspective.  Once I realized that the things we usually take for granted are really miracles, I came to see everything in its precious, ephemeral beauty.  I love this world." 

-Lacie Baskerville, Retrace 72

"I can feel it.  Whether I’m human or a chain or a fake, the people I care for are so deeply rooted inside me, they are precious to me as if they were a part of myself.  They are proof that I am myself.”

- Oz, Retrace 82

“Even if this world is nothing but a story, even if we exist only to entertain someone far beyond our reach, I don’t think this world is ridiculous." 

-Leo Baskerville, Retrace 91

For people who are simply characters in just another book in someone’s library, you get this theme over and over about how despite the role they play in this universe, they’re all still in love with their lives and still very much alive.  Someway, somehow.  That they loved the people they met, despite all the grief they might have faced.  Maybe it’s because they have seen the world for how cruel it is, but they also grew to appreciate true beauty when it came into their lives.  And they’ve learned to grow past it all.  

Dylan Klebold Journal typed

Fact: People are so unaware… . well, Ignorance is bliss I guess… . that would explain my depression. — Dylan 

[sketch: book with bookmark] [Pointing to bookmark:] About in the middle 

A Virtual Book

 EXISTENCES

 By: Dylan

 Properties: This book cannot be opened by anyone except Dylan (some supernatural force blocks common people from entering). 

<<–VoDkA–>>

 <<–Dylan–>>

  <<–Vodka–>> 3-31-97

 Life-existence

 EL THOUGHTZOS 

Ah yes, this is me writing … just writing, nobody technically did anything, just I felt like throwing out my thoughts — this is a weird time, weird life, weird existence. As I sit here (partially drunk with a screwdriver) I think a lot. Think .. . think … that’s all my life is, just shitloads of thinking … all the time … my mind never stops … music runs 24/7 (except for sleep), just songs I hear, not necessarily good or bad, & thinking … about the asshole in gym class, how he worries me, about driving, & my family, about friends & doings with them, about girls I know (mainly & ) how I know I can never have them, yet I can still dream . ..

 I do shit to supposedly ‘cleanse’ myself in a spiritual, moral sort of way (deleting the wads1 on my computer, not getting drunk for periods of time, trying not to ridicule/make fun of people ( ) at school), yet it does nothing to help my life morally. My existence is shit to me — how I feel that I am in eternal suffering, in infinite directions in infinite realities. Yet these realities are fake — artificial, induced [?] by thought, how everything connects, yet its all so far apart…. & I sit & think … science is the way to find solutions to everything, right? I still think that, yet I see different views of shit now — like the mind — yet if the mind is viewed scientifically . .. hmm

 I dwell in the past . .. thinking of good & bad memories 

A lot on the past though … I’ve always had a thing for the past — how it reacts to the present & the future — or rather vice versa. I wonder how/when I got so fucked up w my mind, existence, problem — when Dylan Benet2 Klebold got covered up by this entity containing Dylan’s body … as I see the people at school — some good, some bad — I see how different I am (aren’t we all you’ll say) yet I’m on such a greater scale of difference than everyone else (as far as I know, or guess). I see jocks having fun, friends, women, LIVEZ. 

Or rather shallow existences compared to mine (maybe) like ignorance = bliss. They don’t know beyond this world (how I do in my mind or in reality or in this existence) yet we each are lacking something that the other possesses — I lack the true human nature that Dylan owned & they lack the overdeveloped mind/imagination/knowledge too [?].

 I don’t fit in here thinking of suicide gives me hope, that I’ll be in my place wherever I go after this life … that I’ll finally not be at war with myself, the world, the universe — my mind, body, everywhere, everything at PEACE in me — my soul (existence). & the routine is still monotonous, go to school, be scared & nervous, hoping that people can accept me … that I can accept them … the NIN [Nine Inch Nails] song Piggy is good for thought writing … The Lost Highway3 sounds like a movie about me . .. I’m gonna write later, bye <<–VoDkA–>>

<<–VoDkA–>> 

4-15-97

 poetry [?] my way

 Da ThoughtZ

 Jeah Well well, back at it, yes (you say) whoever the fuck ‘you’ is, but yea. My life is still fucked, in case you care … maybe, … (not?) I have just lost fuckin 45$, & before that I lost my zippo & knife (I did get those back) Why the fuck is he being such an ASSHOLE??? (god I guess, whoever is the being which controls shit). He’s fucking me over big time & it pisses me off. Oooh god I HATE my life, I want to die really bad right now — let’s see what I have that’s good: A nice family, a good house, food, a couple of good friends, & possessions. What’s bad — no girls (friends or girlfriends), no other friends except a few, nobody accepting me even though I want to be accepted, me doing badly & being intimidated in any & all sports, me looking weird & acting shy — BIG problem, me getting bad grades, having no ambition of life, that’s the big shit. Anyway …

 I was Mr. Cutter tonight — I have 11 depressioners on my right hand now, & my favorite contrasting symbol, because it is so true & means so much.4 The battle between good & bad never ends … OK enough bitchin … well I’m not done yet. OK go … I don’t know why I do wrong with people (mainly women) — it’s like they are set out to hate & ignore me, I never know what to say or do. is soo fuckin lucky he has no idea how I suffer.

 Okay here’s some poetry…. this is a display of one man [?] in search of answers, never finding them, yet in hopelessness understands things … 

Existence… . what a strange word. He set out by determination & curiosity, knows no existence, knows nothing relevant to himself. The petty declarations of others & everything on this world, in this world, he knows the answers to. Yet they have no purpose to him. He seeks knowledge of the unthinkable, of the undefineable, of the unknown. He explores the everything5 … using his mind, the most powerful tool known to him. Not a physical barrier blocking the limits of exploration, time thru thought thru dimensions … the everything is his realm. Yet, the more he thinks, hoping to find answers to his questions, the more come up. Amazingly, the petty things mean much to him at this time, how he wants to be normal, not this transceiver of the everything. Then occurring to him, the answer. How everything is connected yet separate. By experiencing the petty others actions, reactions, emotions, doings, and thoughts, he gets a mental picture of what, in his mind, is a cycle.

 Existence is a great hall, life is one of the rooms, death is passing thru the doors, & the everexistent compulsion of everything is the curiosity to keep moving down the hall, thru the doors, exploring rooms, down this never-ending hall. Questions make answers, answers conceive questions, and at long last he is content. TTYL [talk to you later] <<–VoDkA–>>

<<–VoDkA–>>

 5-2 1[?]-97 

my thoughtz shit 

Thoughtz

 Yo … whassup … heheheheh … know what’s weird? Everyone knows everyone. I swear — like I’m an outcast, & everyone is conspiring against me … Check it … (this isn’t good, but I need to write, so here. .. . 

Within the known limits of time … within the conceived boundaries of space … the average human thinks those are the settings of existence … yet the ponderer, the outcast, the believer, helps out the human. “Think not of 2 dimensions,” says the ponderer, “but of 3, as your world is conceived of 3 dimensions, so is mine. While you explore the immediate physical boundaries of your body, you see in your 3 dimensions — L, W, & H, yet I, who is more mentally open to anything, see my 3 dimensions. My realm of thought — Time, Space, & THOUGHT. Thought is the most powerful thing that exists — anything conceivable can be produced, anything & everything is possible, even in your physical world.” After this so called “lecture” the common man feels confused, empty, & unaware. Yet those are the best emotions of a ponderer. The real difference is, a true ponderer will explore these emotions & what caused them. 

Another .. . a dream.

 Miles & miles of never ending grass, like a wheat. A farm, sunshine, a happy feeling in the presence, Absolutely nothing wrong, nothing ever is, contrary 180 [degrees] to normal life. No awareness, just pure bliss, unexplainable bliss, The only challenges are no challenge, & then. .. . BAM!!! realization sets in, the world is the greatest punishment. Life.

 Hypnosis place — It is a sky — with one large cloud, & sort of a cloud-made chair — the sun is at the head of the chair .. . 10 o’clock up into the sky .. . Below, I sometimes see mist, & the green (forest green) earth — sorta a city, yet I hear nothing. I relax on this chair — actually like a chaise — & I am talking … to what? I don’t know — it’s just there, I have the feeling that I know him, even though I consciously don’t … & we talk like we are the same person — like he’s my soul… .

 The everlasting contrast….

 Dark. Light. God. Lucifer. Heaven. Hell. GOOD. BAD. Yes, the ever-lasting contrast. Since existence has known the ‘fight’ between good & evil has continued. Obviously, this fight can never end. Good things turn bad, bad things become good, the ‘people’ on the earth see it as a battle they can win. HA fuckin morons. If people looked at History, they would see what happens. I think, too much, I understand, I am GOD compared to some of those un-existable brainless zombies. Yet, the actions of them interest me, like a kid with a new toy. Another contrast, more of a paradox, actually, like the advanced go for the undevelopeds realm, while some of the morons become everything dwellers — but exceptions to every rule, & this is a BIG exception — most morons never change, they never decide to live in the ‘everything’ frame of mind!

 Laterz <<–VoDKA–>>

7-23-97 

A changing time 

<<–VoDkA–>>’s Thoughts

 The Situation It is not good for me right now (like it ever is) … but anyway … My best friend6 ever: the friend who shared, experimented, laughed, took chances with & appreciated me more than any friend ever did has been ordained … “passed on” … in my book. Ever since 7 (who I wouldn’t mind killing) has loved him … that’s the only place he’s been with her … if anyone had any idea how sad I am … I mean we were the TEAM. When him & I first were friends, well I finally found someone who was like me: who appreciated me & shared very common interests. Ever since 7th grade, I’ve felt lonely … when came around, I finally felt happiness (sometimes) we did cigars, drinking, sabotage to houses, EVERYTHING for the first time together & now that he’s “moved on” I feel so lonely, without a friend. Oh well, maybe he’ll come around → … I hope.

 That’s all — for this topic — maybe I’ll never see this again.

<<–VoDKA–>> 

My 1st Love???? OH my God … I am almost sure I am in love … with () Hehehe … such a strange name, like mine … yet everything about her I love. From her good body to her almost perfect face, her charm, her wit & cunning, her NOT being popular. Her friends (who I know) — some — I just hope she likes me as much as I LOVE her. I think of her every second of every day. I want to be with her. I imagine me & her doing things together, the sound of her laugh, I picture her face, I love her. If [crossed out] soulmates exist, then I think I’ve found mine. I hope she likes Techno … :-) ,

 I love you 

— Dylan

<<–VoDkA–>>

 9-5-97

 Life, sucks

 My thoughts Oooh god I want to die sooo bad .. . such a sad desolate lonely unsalvageable I feel I am .. . not fair, NOT FAIR!!! I wanted happiness!! I never got it … Let’s sum up my life … the most miserable existence in the history of time … my best friend has ditched me forever, lost in bettering himself & having/enjoying/taking for granted his love… . I’ve NEVER knew this … not 100 times near this … they look at me like I’m a stranger … I helped them both out thru life, & they left me in the abyss of suffering when I gave them the [?] The one who I thought was my true love, is not. Just a shell of what I want the most … the meanest trick was played on me a fake love … she in reality doesn’t give a good fuck about me … doesn’t even know me … I have no happiness, no ambitions, no friends, & no LOVE!!! can get me that gun I hope, I wanna use it on a poor SOB. I know … his name is vodka, dylan is his name too. What else can I do/give … I stopped the pornography. I try not to pick on people. Obviously at least one power is against me… . funny how I’ve been thinking about her over the last few days … giving myself fake realities that she, others MIGHT have liked me, just a bit … my [bad?] I have always been hated, by everyone & everything, just never aware… . Goodbye all the crushes I’ve ever had, just shells … images, no truths … BUT WHY? YES, you can read this, why did [illegible words].

 [next to a small picture:] A dark time, infinite sadness, I want to find love.

 Ignorance is bliss

 happiness is ambition

 desolation is knowledge 

pain is acceptance 

despair is anger 

denial is helpless

 martyrism is hope for others 

advantages taken are causes of martyrism 

revenge is sorrow

 death is a reprieve

 life is a punishment 

others’ achievements are tormentations 

people are alike

 I am different — Dylan 

[next to the above:] Goodbye, sorry to everyone … I just can’t take it … all the thoughts … too many . .. make my head twist … I must have happiness, love, peace. Goodbye 

me is a god, a god of sadness

 exiled to this eternal hell 

the people I helped, abandon me

 I am denied what I want,

 To love & to be happy 

Being made a human 

Without the possibility of BEING human 

The cruelest of all punishments 

To some I am crazy

 It is so clear, yet so foggy 

Everything’s connected, separated

 I am the only interpreter of this

 Id rather have nothing than be nothing

 Some say godliness isn’t nothing 

Humanity is the something I long for I just want something I can never have The story of my existence. — Dylan 

Fuck that → Dylan Klebold

Me

 10-14-97

 fuck [?]

 thoughtz

 Me. sorry I didn’t write, A SHITLOAD in my existence ride. ok … hell & back … I’ve been to the zombie bliss side… . & I hate it as much if not more than the awareness part. I’m back now…. a taste of what I thought I want … wrong. Possible girlfriends are coming then I’ll give the phony shit up in a second want TRUE love … I just want something I can never have…. True true I hate everything, why can’t I die … not fair. I want pure bliss … to be cuddling with , who I think I love deeper than ever … I was hollow, thought I was right. Another form of the Downward Spiral10 … deeper & deeper it goes, to cuddle with her, to be one w her, to love, just laying there. I need a girl. This is a weird entry … I should feel happy, but shit brought me down. I feel terrible. The Lost Highway apparently repeats … itself. I won’t drink. Now, lucky bastard gets a perfect soulmate, who he can admit FUCKIN SUICIDE to & I get rejected for being honest about fuckin hate for jocks. From the wrong people maybe … & Anyway .. . here are 2 poems.

 Fuck me die me

 Awareness signs the warrant for suffering. Why is it that the zombies achieve something me wants (overdeveloped me). They can love, why can’t I? The true existor lives in solitude, always aware, always infinite, always looking for, his love. Peace might be the ultimate destination … destination unknown… . I want happiness … abandonment is present for the martyr. My thoughts exist in, want to live in. I want to find a room in the great hall & stay there w my love forever. Sadness seems infinite, & the shell of happiness shines around. Yet the true despair overcomes in this lifetime. How tragic for my [?] dumass shithead I HATE SHIT motherfuckin goddamn piece of death thought and nothin FUCK FUCK FUCK No emotions, not caring, yet another stage in this shit life. Suicide .. . Dylan Klebold

this 

11-3-97 

fuck all

 Thoughts

 Farther and farther distant … That’s what’s happening … me & everything that zombies consider real … just images, not life. Soon I will be at peace I hope … Burn → “with all your life fucked up around you” I get more depressed with each day … more Evil… . & I can’t ever stop it!!! [illegible scribble] 

Some god I am…. All people I ever might have loved have abandoned me, my parents piss me off & hate me … want me to have fuckin ambition!! How can I when I get screwed & destroyed by everything??!!! I have no money, no happiness, no friends … Eric will be getting further away soon…. I’ll have less than nothing … how normal. I wanted to love … I wanted to be happy and ambitions and free & nice & good & ignorant…. everyone abandoned me … I have small stupid pleasures … my so called hobbies & doings … those are all that’s left for me … clinging onto the smallest rocks … many people climbing up a never ending vertical cliff… . & found a plateau to exist on…they walked up me to get to it. Nobody will help me … only exist with me if it suits them. I helped, why can’t they? will get me a gun, I’ll go on my killing spree11 against anyone I want. More crazy … deeper in the spiral, lost highway repeating, dwelling on the beautiful past ( & getting drunk) with me, everyone moves up, I always stayed. Abandonment. This room sucks wanna die

 everything is as least expected. The meek are trampled on, the assholes prevail, the gods are deceiving, lost in my little insane asylum with the outhouse [?] redneck music playing… . wanna die & be free with my love … if she even exists. She probably hates me … finds a [?]

 or a jock who treats her like shit. I remember details … nothing worth remembering I remember. I don’t know my love: could be , or or , or , or anyone. I don’t know & I’m sick of not knowing!! To be kept in the dark is a punishment!! I have lost my emotions … like in Hurt the song. NIN. people eventually find happiness I never will. Does that make me a non-human? YES. The god of sadness…. church was so fun … the rec thing with [?].

1-2-98 

Beeerr … Man I don’t know what’s up lately … never do in existence. All this shit with & friends … so weird & different from past…. yet again, that’s the way in existence. I wonder if I’ll ever have a love … my love. got his, I don’t, won’t ever get mine. Here’s all the people I’ve loved, or at least liked (or thought I loved) — all the same meaning 

[A list of 18 blacked-out names, three with hearts next to them. The third heart has an “R” inside it.]

 is the newest … the purest (for now) … seems perfect for me … I seem perfect for her. I was delusional and thought she waved at me the last day of school. Oh well … my emotions are gone. So much past pain at once, my senses are numbed. The beauty of being numb.

2-2-98

 the everything

 Existence . .. to understand

 Well well … so much changes … (like existence). I understand almost everything now … so close to my love — . The runes have shown it, she has shown it, I have felt it. I know the meaning of each life: to be loved by your love, & to be happy with ones self. Only for the gods though (me, , etc.). the zombies & their society band together & try to destroy what is superior13 (what they don’t understand & are afraid of. Soon…. either I’ll commit suicide, or I’ll get with & it will be NBK14 for us. My happiness. Her happiness. NOTHING else matters. I’ve been caught with most of my crimes — xpl [for example] drinking, smoking & the house vandalism, & the pipe bombs. If, by fate’s choice, didn’t love me, I’d slit my wrist & blow up Atlanta15 strapped to my neck. It’s good, understanding a hard road since my realization, but it gets easier. BUT IT DOESN’T! that’s part of existence. Unpredictable. Existence is pure hell & pure heaven at the same time. I will never stop wondering. The lost highway will never end, the music in my head will never stop … total [?] part of existence. The hall will never end. The love will always be there. GOD I LOVE HER!!! It’s so great to love.

 Society is tightening its grip on me, & soon I & will snap. We will have our revenge on society, & then be free, to exist in a timeless spaceless place of pure happiness. The purpose of life is to be happy & be with your love who is equally happy. Not much more to say. Goodbye.

 Almost happiness is slavery — the real people (gods) are slaves to the majority of zombies, but we know & love being superior.

 I didn’t want to be a jock. I hated the happiness that they have — & I will have something infinitely better. 

I love her & she loves me. 

(By the way, some zombies are smarter than others, some manipulate .. . like my parents.)

 I am GOD, () is GOD

 the zombies will pay for their arrogance, hate, fear, abandoned, & distrust 

[sketch: highway leading to vague shapes on horizon (Lost Highway?); road sign: “666”]

 I love you that’s all I think about anymore … I know that this humanity is almost over, that we will be free. We have proven to fate that we are the everything of purity & halcyon, & that we deserve, need, love, can’t exist without each other. It’s hard, I think that I might not be enough, my mind sometimes gets stuck on its own things, I think about human things — all I try to do is imagine the happiness between us. That is something we cannot even conceive in this toilet earth. The everything, the halcyon, the happiness is ours, there will be no notes from me. Let the humans suffer without my knowledge of the everything. I am trying not to think about the happiness, somehow thinking that 16 will destroy it if I conceive/relish in it when I’m a human, but I love her. We are soulmates. 

[sketch: heart with triple-barred cross ( ) against background of barbed-wheel symbol ( )]

[hearts] I love you

 You don’t consciously know who I am (please don’t skip to the back: read the note as it was written), & doubtedly unconsciously too. I, who write this, love you beyond infinince. I think about you all the time, how this world would be a better place if you loved me as I do you. I know what you’re thinking: “(some psycho wrote me this harassing letter)” I hoped we could have been together … you seem a bit like me. Pensive, quiet, an observer, not wanting what is offered here (school, life, etc.) you almost seem lonely, like me. You probably have a boyfriend though, & might not have given this note another thought. I have thought you my true love for a long time now, but … well … there was hesitation. You see I can’t tell if you think of anyone as I do you, & if you did who that would be. Fate put me in need of you, yet this earth blocked that with uncertainties. I will go away soon, but I just had to write this to you, the one I truly loved. Please, for my sake, don’t tell anybody about this, as it was only meant for you. Also, please don’t feel any guilt about my soon-to-be “absence” of this world (it is solely my decision: no one else’s) oh … the thoughts of us … doing everything together, not necessarily anything, just to be together would have been pure heaven. I guess it’s time to tell you who I am. I was in a class with you 1st semester, & was blessed with being with you in a report. I still remember your laugh. Innocent, beautiful, pure. This semester I still see you — rarely. I am entranced

 during 5th period, as we both have it off. To most people, I appear … well … almost scary, but that’s who I appear to be as people are afraid of what they don’t understand. I denied who I was for a long time. Until high school…. anyway, you have noticed me a few times, I catch every one of these gazes with an open heart. I think you know who I am by now. Unfortunately … even if you did like me even the slightest bit, you would hate me if you knew who I was. I am a criminal. I have done things that almost nobody would even think about condoning. The reason that I’m writing you now is that I have been caught for the crimes I committed, & I want to go to a new existence. You know what I mean (suicide). I have nothing to live for, & I wont be able to survive in this world after this legal conviction. However, if it was true that you loved me as I do you … I would find a way to survive. Anything to be with you. I would enjoy life knowing that you loved me. 99/100 chances you probably think I’m crazy, & want to stay as far away as possible. If that’s the case, then I’m very sorry for involving an innocent person in my problems, & please don’t think twice. However, if you are who I hoped for in my dreams & realities, then do me a favor: leave a piece of paper in my locker saying anything that comes to you. Well, I guess this is it — goodbye, & I love(d) you. 

Dylan Klebold [with locker information] 

[sketches: a heart labeled “DK” and one with blacked-out initials; highway] 

6-8-98 

Our halcyon

 I LOVE !! 

I love her to infinince. I look back on my awareness journey, see the parts & sections of my understanding … it’s almost done, yet it is never done, I love . She is my soulmate, my [?] all the imaginative halcyons & pure existences I have with her (to me) are almost happiness … I just wish I could call her…something blocks me from calling her, my human side is putting up a wall to prevent me from calling her, like a fear of “its” truth. BS. I will overcome all fears, doubts, & zombie-based thoughts (oxymoron) … I will follow our hearts to the halcyon, loving her. I love you 

[sketches: hearts with blacked-out text or pictures, triple-barred cross, highway]

 me

 6-10-98

I think don’t care (?) 

Forever fate, up & down spiral 

1.5 human years … so much changed in small time, my friends (at my choice) are depleting & collapsing under each other (Eric & ) like I thought they would, I am ready to be with . The ups & downs of fate are forever, good & bad, equal me. The lost highway, & downward spiral never end. Existence is like infinity times itself. ∞∞ [symbolizes infinity to the power of infinity] I have passed thru this much of the ever existence, this is almost a checkpoint. The zombies have set their [place? plane?] in my mind for the cliff theory I’ve [?] off with & we’ve floated away to the halcyon. The zombies will pay for their being, their nature. I know everything, yet I know nothing. I am a true god. My infinite memories, thoughts, perceivations of purity come a lot more with her, there is pure pure happiness — the purpose of our existence. I hate, love things, hate everything, love me & . I understand that I can never ever be a zombie, even if I wanted to. The nature of my entity. Soon we will live in the halcyons of our minds, the one thing that made me a god. Things are so simple, now that they are infinitely complicated. HAHAHAHA.

 [sketch: rising and falling line (“ups & downs of fate”) with the word “fate” and ]

 I understand whatever of everything. I am the god of the everything. 

Fate is my only master. 

This is probably my last entry. I love my self close second to my everlasting love. Goodbye.

 I will never stop learning

Dylan Klebold

[sketches: road, road signs with “5” and triple-barred cross, and cover of journal] 

Dylan 

1-20-99 

This Shit

 This shit again. Back at writing, doing just like a fucking zombie. Lately I can’t change my mind from the fucking deeds of zombies. Earth, humanity, HERE. That’s mostly what I think about. I hate it. I want to be free … free … I thought it would have been time by now. The pain multiplies infinitely never stops Yet [?] I’m here, STILL alone, still in pain, so is she. The thing I have concluded is that fate will decide when we should be together. decided when our existence started, it should end the same way, with us unknowing, in limbo. I love you . Always have, will. The scenarios, images, pieces of happiness still come. they always will. I love her she loves me. I know she is tired of suffering as I am. It is time. It is time. I love her the journey, the endless journey started, it has to end. We need to be happy to exist truly. I see her in perfection, the halcyons. I await endless purity. I exist as less than nothing without her. –O. my humanity, –O. I don’t know if I should call her, or wait for to act. Yet, calling her is a state of humanity. I’m forever sorry, infinitely, about the pornos. My humanity has a foot fetish & bondage extreme liking. I try to thwart it sometimes to no effect. Yet the masturbation has stopped. I’m sorry . Always I feel the [?] happiness here, thinking of her for brief moments. That’s how I know the everything is true. 

[sketch: triple-barred cross]

 I hate this non-thinking stasis. I’m stuck in humanity. Maybe going “NBK” (gawd) with Eric is the way to break free. I hate this.

 [sketches: heart, triple-barred cross, “5,” spiral with rays and infinity symbols?]

 The weather is a replication of our thoughts. The happiness is possible, imminent, I [?] on . 

The happiness is close visible ending, end of the beginning of the halcyons. 

The humanity is blocking me again. Time to go. HAHAHAHA fuck all. Hate this shit, need to be me, [?], love her. 

The framework of society stands above & below me. The hardest thing to destroy, yet the weakest thing that exists. I know that I am different, yet I am afraid to tell the society. The possible abandonment, persecution is not something I want to face, yet it is so primitive to me. I guess being yourself means letting people know about inner thoughts too, not just opinions & fashions [illegible word in parentheses] I will be free one day, in the land of purity & my happiness, I will have a love, someone who is me in a way. someday … possibly thru this life, maybe another, but it will happen . .. 

Love is more valuable than anything I know. To love is to enter a completion of oneself. I hate those who choose to destroy a love, who take it for granted. love is greater than life even. As I look for love, I feel I can’t find it. Ever. But something tells me I will, someday. Somewhere.  As my love will find me, she feels as I do right now, I can feel it, we will be inseparable. Her & I. Whether it is or not, I think I’ll find it (my love). We will be free, to explore the vast wonders of the stars. To cascade down everlong waterfalls, & thru the warmest seas of pure happiness .. . no limits .. . no limits. Nothing will stop us.

Separate document: JCSO-26,484 to JCSO-26,487

The humanity of here & now clouds all that I see. Yet the me, the one, can now control the pain, & it is done. 5 more days. 5 … … a very influential number, another brick in my journeyed wall. Humans are zombies, they scratch for acceptance & greed & kill themselves thru each other. They will never learn, or maybe they will, but wont have the strength to learn to be aware is not a trait, it’s a godlike thing. Blessed God, not a Christian, Jesus, Mt. Sinai, Abraham, David, Bible gay shit god, but a true controller of existence. was to make us this way. These moments will be lost in the depressions & caverns of the human books forever, like, tears, in, rain, but the thoughts will be eternal. To explain the happiness is impossible even for fate. It’s just a pure halcyon set to last more existences than a conceivable number. Stupid gay nigger humans think I’m “crazy.” Or they think I’m childish. Hahaha, because I can’t solve [math equation]. That makes me dumb! Because I can’t stay thinking in a 2nd dimension, I go to the 5th!17 Haha. So I wait 5 more days. 5 more days. 5 eternities, & I know her & I are all conceived from ourselves & each other, every night of the self-awareness

journey, every thought we conceived, we have finished the race. Time to die. Everything we knew we were able to understand it, to perceive it, into what we should. Everything we knew, we know & use. An understanding of the everything. An Einstein stuck in an ant’s body. We are the nature of existence. The zombies were a test, to see if our love was genuine. We are in wait of our reward, each other. The zombies will never cause us pain anymore. The humanity was a test. I love you, love. Time to die, time to be free, time to love.

One day, one is the beginning, [?] the end. Hahaha. Reversed, yet true. About 26.5 hours from now the judgment will begin. Difficult, but not impossible, necessary, nerve-wracking & fun

What fun is life without a little death?

It’s interesting, when I’m in my human form, knowing I’m going to die. Everything has a touch of triviality to it. Like how none of this calculus shit matters. The way it shouldn’t. the truth. In 26.4 hours, I’ll be dead, & in happiness. The little zombie human fags will know their errors, & be forever suffering and mournful. HAHAHAH, of course I will miss things. Not really.

Dylan Klebold

 ?-?-? 

will

WILL

Ok, this is my will. This is a fucking human thing to do, but whatever 

— you were a badass, never failed to get me up when I was down.Thx.You get

FUCKT

Cracked William/Grell Theory

In many ways, Grell and William seem like exact opposites. Grell is fiery, impulsive, and emotional. William is colder, a careful planner, and rarely shows much emotion beyond annoyance. As I was considering this the other day, I realized how they almost seems like two halves of the same whole, or perhaps even a representation of the chaos and order that exists within all of us.

Suddenly I found myself wondering if in some bizarre way they are the same person.

Are you still with me? I know how odd that sounds, but hear me out on this one. Let’s suppose for a moment that someone suffered from dissociative identity disorder (DID). You have the original or main personality, which would be William. He’s a normal, everyday person that’s responsible and perhaps even a little boring. However, he has a second personality (Grell) that expresses his wilder, more impulsive side. At some point, things gets to be too much and William takes his own life.

Both personalities are reborn as Shinigami, but now are the extremes of the two sides. William has trouble expressing himself. Grell is all about expression. William, as the main personality is aware, at least partially, of all this. He feels responsible for Grell and is protective of her. At the same time, she represents this part of his personality that he doesn’t understand and perhaps even fears. Grell is totally unaware, however she is attracted to William as that is the part of her that is missing.

This could even explain some of William’s anger towards Grell’s actions. If they are two halves, then it’s like William killed the women with Madam Red, and he flirted with Sebastian. No wonder he has so much anger towards our favorite demon.

I recognize this theory is cracked, but I still hope people find it interesting to consider. If anyone would like to use this odd idea for a story, or any of the theories or headcanons I post, you are more than welcome.

Thanks for taking the time to read this rather odd post. Please recognize I adore both characters, and I meant no disrepect with this train of thought.

Kaoru Ongaku to Hito Feb 2015

You say that ARCHE was a tough album to make.

Creating albums is always tough but this album had a different kind of difficulty than usual. It was difficult to see how it would all come together in the end.

So you were thinking about it all day even after you’d returned home from the studio?

No, recently I’ve been trying not to think about work all the time. I used to be always thinking about it; I couldn’t get away from it. I had an overview of everything but I couldn’t see, so now when I get home I listen once to what I did that day and then I try to forget about it. If I happen to think up a phrase or anything then I’ll say like “Ahh” into my iPhone and record it (laughs.)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How do you recommend rising juniors or seniors go about starting the college app process?

I’m about four years ahead of the ‘seniors’ you’re probably asking, but I figured I’d give it a shot. (Also, since it’s nearing summer, I’ll focus on rising seniors beginning fall 2015.)


# MAKE UP A DREAM SCHOOL

Design your ideal school. It seems counterintuitive, but imagine a school – your Dream School – that doesn’t already exist. Where is it located? Do you want to play with cows on the weekend (rural), or would you rather be riding a subway downtown (urban)? Do you want to know everyone in your class (small), or be one in a crowd (large)?

Describe characteristics of your perfect school and jot down each one, preferably in a GoogleDoc for ease of editing and quick reference. Size and location are easy characteristics to note, but consider also: curriculum flexibility (do you want to be able to take a class in every subject, or are you dead set on one major?); student population (are you envisioning a liberal college where shoes are considered abnormal, or a conservative school with mandatory church?); and extracurricular activities (were you as hyped about the ABC Family TV series ‘Greek’ as I was?).

Take a moment to reflect. Then come back and edit, edit, edit. Once you’ve refined your Dream School, find schools with the exact or similar characteristics via search options like Niche College. (Back in my day, this was called College Prowler, but they have since been acquired by Niche.)


# BE REALISTIC ABOUT YOUR STUDENT PROFILE

Look at the (metaphoric) mirror and take down honest evaluations about who you are as not just a student, but also a person.

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