leather lead

Good Friday: A Meditation on Self Sacrifice

Today is Good Friday, the day Christians all over the world commemorate the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross upon the hill of Calvary the day before Passover by the Roman state some two millennia ago. 

Jesus would have been scourged with a leather whip with lead weights on the end before his crucifixion. He would have been mocked and insulted as he walked down the Via Dolorosa to his place of execution. 

Jesus, famously, had a crisis of faith on the cross. He said ”Eloi Eloilama sabachthani?” which is translated, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” I love this about him. It proves that he was at that moment facing death, a man. Then, his moment of doubt passed, he accepted his fate and placed his fate in the hands of God and so died in peace.

What is a meaning all of us can take from this story?

It is the nobility of one who sacrifices all for others. Firefighters rushing into the burning towers on 9/11. A single mother who works two jobs so that her children may have a better future. A father who spends his life in a factory job so his daughter can become a doctor. 

A doctor who spends her life working among the poor so that children may grow up healthy and whole. A boy who places his body between his girlfriend and an armed gunman on a rampage. When I think of Jesus on that cross, as Christians believe, dying so that others may live, I see him as a symbol of all who sacrifice themselves in the name of compassion and love.

I am not a Christian but this image resonates powerfully with me. On this day I join with my Christian friends in honoring the sacrifice of Jesus, the gentle rabbi of the Galilee.

๑ Samsaran ๑

Saw a band last night. The band. Our band. Our show.

The seat beside me was as dark as the leather on the lead singer’s jacket, and the 5,000 cap size venue felt like a ghost town without your presence. You were thousands of miles away while I experienced the music you yearned to see live. The music we drove highways listening to either low or maximum level. The music we sat in a parking lot across from a playground playing in the background of our first, second, and last fight. The music I cried to and you cried to and mother earth cried to as she rooted so incredibly hard for us. But, you weren’t beside me. Instead, a tall man who was drenched in musk and cigarette smoke stood in your place and never once paid me any attention. But, just because I couldn’t see you didn’t mean your spirit wasn’t there. I smelled you in the air as the odor of wine floated up the walkways. I heard you in the instrumentals that pushed and pulled like the tide. I saw flashes of you through the ever changing lights, so bright and erratic like their personal mission was to distract me from your thought. I painted your face through the lead singer’s, attaching your name to the curve of his nose and the cut of his jaw. His lips moving so gracefully pressed up against the microphone reminded me of our hard kisses, the ones that either led to our passions or goodbyes. I felt you in the thrum of the bass as it coursed through my body. I was trapped by you through the echoes banging against the venue walls, like the echoes of our backs against counters and floors and hearts pressed too close for comfort in sweat stained sheets. I pictured your bruises through the morphing colors of blue and pink and green in their backdrop, even subconsciously reaching to my neck for a love bite that wasn’t there. I even tasted you through the sweetly dripped lyrics being fed to me as the show served its courses of sound. When the encore began, my body electrified reaching for a stage bursting with energy hoping to somehow grab it and tuck it into my chest, feeling alive.. alive.. alive.. and I swore I saw your shadow in the silhouettes of the musicians. And as the lights dimmed and the vocalist ever so breathlessly thanked the crowd and closed the show, vanishing from the stage, I watched you thank me, bow your head in farewell, and disappear along with the band. The house lights slowly rising making the visible dust particles, the you particles, all around me dematerialize from view as you so often did. And then you were gone again.

I didn’t see a show last night. I’m not holding a ticket with a band’s name etched across the top. I saw you. I watched you. I experienced you. You were the headlining act to a tour I hadn’t a clue I was even attending.

Our band. Our Show. Your performance. Funny that.

—  Headlining Act: You

unknown-ofthe-otakuworld  asked:

Love your blog!! It's great!! Could you do one where MC is totally punk rock, like wears all black and leather, and plays lead guitar in a rock band?!

THANK YOU AND omg your profile picture <3 phichit is beautiful


  • holy crap you’re so cool
  • he’d be the one who would go front row to all your concerts
  • holding those big banners and yelling your name after each song
  • likes to be your ‘manager’ of sorts, helping out with whatever he can
  • you once asked him if he wanted to help advertise for the band’s next performance (ie social media or posting flyers) and he was ecstatic
  • he ended up just spamming the venue date/location/time in the chatroom during his LOLOL games at least he tried
  • had a phase where he wanted to be in a rock band too
  • wore all black he actually looks really good in black and tried looking all tough/edgy
  • except whenever he tried to look serious/no-nonsense, he looked like a cute puppy dog pouting 
  • supports you and your band 110%


  • totally loves that you’re in the music scene as well
  • you two have freestyle sessions where you jam away at the guitar and he sings stuff to match
  • ends up with you playing some high speed guitar solo and him singing at the top of his lungs to match your notes
  • it’s hilarious though, and you two always laugh and chill on the sofa afterwards
  • whenever he’s not busy, he tries to go to your concerts while getting mobbed by his fans
  • uses his fanbase to advertise you and asks them to go support his girl <3


  • lowkey digs it
  • for some reason seeing you on stage in all black with that aura of confidence is really attractive to her
  • her slave life prevents her from going to a lot of your events, but likes listening to you strum at the guitar whenever she has the chance
  • most of the time it’s just you lounging in a chair and plucking at some notes while she’s working at her desk
  • you play mostly calming tunes during those moments to help her concentrate and relax when she wants to
  • you once showed her some professional photos someone took of the band during a performance and she noticed a solo shot of you illuminated under the stage lights
  • you bet she framed it next to her zen shrine


  • let’s be real, if it’s something you’re passionate about, he’s gonna help you achieve it
  • and you appreciate the notion, except he goes way over the top
  • like when he volunteered to manage the next concert venue location and promptly informed you that he sold out the area after 2 days
  • “i have invited many musically-inclined people, as well as people from my company who were interested in the fine arts”
  • “…jumin, this is a rock concert, not a classical orchestral performance”
  • “rock is a genre of music that falls under the concept of fine arts. i made it clear what kind of performance they’d be attending”
  • “alright;;;; you said you sold out the venue? that’s actually incredible”
  • jumin’s smug af at this “of course. you deserve no less than a full house, my love”
  • he hired a van and bodyguards to safely escort you and your band into the venue one bodyguard even had a bouquet of flowers
  • on quiet nights, he likes to lay with you in bed and listen to you talk about memorable concert moments or song ideas you had


  • he’d probably gasp dramatically before yelling “AND YOU DIDN’T INVITE ME?!”
  • “do you even play an instrument, seven?”
  • “i can be the group’s visual ;)”
  • “…a visual still should contribute musically”
  • “the audience would be too taken by my looks to even hear if my singing’s bad”
  • if he could, he’d be front row leading all the fan chants except his hacker life means he has to stay on the down low
  • he hacks into the venue CCTVs and public videos posted of your concerts to watch from home instead
  • also hacks into many public domains and plasters advertisements for whenever you have an upcoming concert
  • quite frequently he prances around the house belting one of your band’s songs in an off-key pitch 
  • also wears your favorite leather jacket as he does so
  • which is so cute but dear god he can sing terribly if he chooses to