man and a half

That the strength of the fear I have
Doesn’t stop me from seeing what I aim for

That the death of everything I believe in
Doesn’t cover my ears and my mouth
Because half of me is what I scream
But the other half is silence.

That the music I ear from far
Be beautiful despite sadness
That the woman I love will always be beloved
Despite the distance
Because half of me is departure
But the other half is longing.

That the words I speak
Are not heard as prayers nor repeated with fervour
Only respected
Like the only thing that is left for a man sank in feelings
Because half of me is what I hear
But the other half is what I shut up.

That this will of mine of leaving
Be transformed into quiet and peace I deserve
That this tension that eats me inside
Will be rewarded one day
Because half of me is what I think
But the other half is a vulcano.

That the fear of loneliness fades away, and the living with myself becomes bearable at least.

That the mirror reflects a sweet smile in my face
That I remember of seeing in childhood
Because half of me is the remainings of what I used to be
The other half I don’t know.

That I’m not just needed for a simple joy
To calm down my spirit
And that your silence talks more and more to me
Because half of me is shelter
But the other half is weariness.

That the art points us an answer
Even if it doesn’t know
And that no one tries to twist it
Because there needs to be simplicity to make it bloom
Because half of me is audience
The other half is song.

That my madness be forgiven
Because half of me is love

And the other half too
— 

Metade (Half) Oswaldo Montenegro

Episode 500

After Naruto’s Wedding…

Sasuke : Did you give to Naruto the letter ?

Eagle : Um, Naruto ? is he the pink haired human ?

Sasuke : No, that’s Sakura.

Eagle : Then,.. I think I confused Naruto with Sakura..

Sasuke : What!? You gave the congratulation letter to Sakura ?!

Eagle : Yes, I think so.

Sasuke : *sigh* .. But,.. So to whom you gave the “love declaration letter”!!!?

Eagle : Um,.. to that old man with half face is hidden,.. I though he was Sakura..

Sasuke : …Oh No.

Eagle :

Sasuke :  And what did he say ?

Eagle : He laughed.

Sasuke : Kakashi.. *sigh* Hope he understood it was for someone else.. *whisper* Why are you dead Aoda *sigh*

‘When Hinata woke in the evening, he half expected to see the wild man mysteriously gone, as though he’d never been there in the first place.

But instead, there he lay, fast asleep. Shafts of deep golden sunlight fell across the man’s sleeping form, and Hinata stared at him, transfixed. He had long, dark lashes and a finely shaped, straight nose, and low cheekbones with a proud jawline, all of which started to fill out some sort of stereotypical profile for a rugged jungle king.

If ever there had been someone created to survive the unforgiving landscape of the jungle, it was him.’

The rainforest expedition is to last a full year—365 days of living under the lush canopy of trees.

Danger looms. Adventure awaits. The jungle calls. Hinata Shouyou has never wanted anything more.

Or so he thinks, until he meets a curious stranger there, who shows him what it means to be truly needed.

Read Chapter 3 on AO3

Chapter: 3 / 6
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Additional Tags: Inspired by Tarzan, Alternate Universe - Jungle, Emotional, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Touch-Starved, Intimacy, Plot With Porn, Learning Experiences

Remember this funny little bit from Samurai Jack Episode XLVIII, “Jack vs. Aku”?  



After more failed attempts by the Shogun of Sorrow to best his enemy with incompetent help, Aku takes matters into his own hands and confronts the samurai himself with the prospect of a duel.  What immediately followed was a light poke at the standard Samurai Jack formula of episodic hero and villain conflict, humorously summarized above in Aku’s usual condescending manner.

At the time, it was a nice jab at the show’s status quo, an excuse to set up a cool fight that ended with - you guessed it - more status quo, even if Jack emerged the victor of a sorts.

Nearly 14 years have passed, and Season 5 is showing us exactly what happens when light parody gives way to a grim deconstruction of the eternal hero-villain duet rife in so many cartoons.

Fifty years of wandering a scorched, desolate landscape ruined by evil has left Jack a bitter and half-broken man.  The weight of time as well as his failures have bent him low, trapping him in an endless and seemingly futile cycle of heroic stultification, from which there seems only one escape - and his subconscious, at least, is dying to take the leap.  Turns out, being a hero locked in eternal conflict with a foe against whom you’ve made zero progress in half a century does cruel things to your state of mind.

 Ironically, episode 2 reveals that Aku is in very much the same boat.  Though his little “therapy session” was a nice light distraction from Jack’s brutal existential collapse, it still centered on the same problem: he’s made no progress on his “Kill Jack” campaign, with time itself now spurning him, and is reduced to pathetically waiting in his mental hovel for a solution to fall from the sky.  Try as he might to feign indifference, the fact that Jack remains both a potential threat and a persistent thorn in his side he can’t remove clearly bugs him.

Better than any other Western animated series, Samurai Jack shows you just how bad the standard heroic wanderer formula can feel when stretched on too long, and when progress, however measured, falters.

WIP Bitching Nightblogging Edition

I’m simultaneously convinced I’m the worst writer ever to put words down on paper, yet I’m also wording uncontrollably because it’s fucking 2am and I don’t give much of a shit if it’s good or not anymorr and it simultaneously is and isn’t and I dunno man I lost the ability to read like half an hour ago??? shit fucking wacky.

anyway here’s the expected ^datez 4 d'weeknd, fam:

*Pulsion, because tf it was supposed to start updating again in March starting. Not sure what happened

*Hämärä b/c idfk people are asking about it and I’m panakin?¿¿¿? But like in a good, healthy way. If I have to see it in my drafts for a nanosecond longer I’m gonna fucking nuke my Google docs.

*Padwanan Rex cuz it’s short n easy like making dinosaur mac n cheese.

*Those k-i-s-sing requests because they’re fun and one of them was Vaderkin and awoke an eons old need within me to write a fuckmetricton of Vaderkin and it turned into six pages and part of me wants to right more but I have so many gotdang wips I can’t have more to bItch about…!!!!. $! $ there’s also a lot of spiritassassin 2. Idk if I’ll put these on A03. might

Notes on Sarah Connolly’s recital at Spivey Hall

I am in the middle of a music marathon month, traveling every weekend in March to hear live music. Between the travel, travel preparations, travel recovery (read: laundry), general domestic upkeep, and working full time on the weekdays, I have not had much time to sit and write down my reflections on the music I’ve heard. I managed to write some personal notes on Dead Man Walking only because I sacrificed half a night of sleep, writing between midnight and 3:00 a.m. after getting back from Washington.

Anyway, here is my first attempt to catch up and write down some thoughts on my music adventures before they fade completely.

I am so glad I went to Sarah Connolly’s recital with Joseph Middleton at Spivey Hall in Morrow, Georgia on March 11 of this year. (I put a curtain call pic here and another on Twitter if you want to go find it—I won’t link to my real-name Twitter account from Tumblr.) Sarah is always magnificent in recital but I personally would rate this as my favorite recital—by any artists—that I’ve ever yet attended. 

I think it was my favorite partly because of the frame of mind I was in. Before the recital, my husband and I went to a pre-concert talk on Copland’s Emily Dickinson songs by Clayton State music professor Kurt-Alexander Zeller. It was the perfect pre-concert talk for an art song recital: nothing terribly abstruse nor musicologically groundbreaking, but very informative for a general audience and attentive to the relationship between words and music. Prof. Zeller spoke about Copland’s biography and Dickinson’s, then nicely explicated a couple of the songs. I particularly remember him illustrating on the piano how, in “Nature, the gentlest mother,” the piano part represents the sounds and activities of the natural world while the voice acts more like the restraining maternal hand. 

Even though the talk focused on the Emily Dickinson songs, I think it really primed my brain for picking up on the relationship between music and poetry throughout the different repertoire choices of the whole recital. I could almost picture little flashes of light inside my head, like the glowing spots on a brain scan, as I had tiny little “aha” moments one after another.

It was also probably my favorite ever recital for emotional impact and connection with the singer. Sarah Connolly is always wonderful at engaging with her audience: “She WILL look you in the eye,” I told some friends ahead of Sarah’s recital at Park Avenue Armory. But since the Spivey Hall recital was (regrettably, due to Clayton State’s spring break and a competing choral event) rather sparsely attended, and since I was sitting in the center of Row E on a raked floor with an empty seat in front of me, I got even more eye contact than usual from Sarah. I actually had trouble keeping my eyes on her during the long piano coda for “Nun hast du mir den ersten Schmerz getan” because she was looking right at me for the first part of it and silently telegraphing pain so intensely that it was hard to be on the receiving end of it. After a couple of quick glances away, though, I locked my eyes on hers and mentally opened myself up as an empathetic receiver of the emotion for several seconds (that felt very long) until she shifted her gaze. I felt the sadness so much that when the piano music ended and it came time to applaud, I had trouble bringing my face back from what I am sure must have been a very grim look, even though Sarah herself had broken the “Frauenliebe” character and was smiling for her bows.

Now THAT is something you don’t get from listening to an album or even a live radio broadcast. I feel so lucky to have the means to attend great recitals from time to time. 

A few other memories that stand out from the Spivey Hall recital:

I think my response to Frauenliebe und -leben was uniquely shaped this time by the fact that I have had my wedding since the last time I heard Frauenliebe in recital. As Sarah sang “Helft mir, ihr Schwestern, Freundlich mich schmücken” I could not help but think of how, for the dancing at my wedding reception, I changed out of my long-trained wedding gown and into a more danceable dress that had been given to me by a good friend. Even though I didn’t have a gaggle of Schwestern beautifying me for my wedding, I had that freundlich gift, and I loved it. 

In the Dickinson songs, I especially remember my brain lighting up for “The Chariot.” I had heard Sarah Connolly sing the same selection of Dickinson songs at Alice Tully Hall two years ago, and “The Chariot” was a revelation to me then, but I still got an exciting new take on it this time around. 

For whatever reason, different aspects of the music came to my attention this time. I noticed the slow-ambling clip-clop rhythm in the piano part as played by Joseph Middleton, and that made me suddenly get a new view of the poem as a nineteenth-century courting ritual. The clip-clop reminded me of certain passages in a historic personal diary that I worked on a few years ago. The diary recorded (among many other episodes) the story of the writer’s courtship with his future wife in a small southern U.S. city in the 1880s. He had hardly any money and was struggling to establish a law career; his beloved, the “belle of the town,” was the daughter of a wealthy man who was less than enthusiastic about his daughter’s romance with the impecunious upstart lawyer. To evade the glowering patriarch’s scrutiny, the diarist used to hire an inexpensive horse-drawn cart for the afternoon and pick up his “belle” for long drives. It was on one such drive that he made a momentous confession of his love to her and she accepted it in return, effectively changing the course of their lives towards marriage. It was a scene of such great importance in the diary that he referred back to it decades later. Well, for some reason, even though I had studied Dickinson’s poem “Because I could not stop for Death” (a.k.a. “The Chariot”) in some depth in college, it had never occurred to me to imagine the poem’s situation as a courtship scene, but suddenly while listening to Copland’s musical setting of Dickinson’s drive with death, it linked up in my mind with this diarist’s courting drives, giving me a new understanding of the poem. 

Copland’s setting of “The Chariot” ends with a very long-held note for the singer. I wrote about this note in my Alice Tully recital impressions, but it wasn’t until I heard it at Spivey Hall, where Sarah Connolly sustained it for an impossible-seeming two or three seconds beyond the silencing of the piano, that I suddenly clued in to the way the final syllable in eternity is held for a seeming eternity. Duh. It seems like a really basic and obvious point about the construction of the song, but I had previously noticed the general mood of the note in Sarah’s singing of it, not its relationship to the text. One can always learn something new!

Adam: Who does she think she is?

Adam: That girl has tangled with the wrong man!

Perry: Darn right.

Adam: No one says no to Adam!

Adam: Dismissed! Rejected!  Publicly humiliated! Why it’s more than i can bear!

Perry: Another beer?

Adam: What for? Nothing helps, i’m disgraced.

Perry: Who you? Never! Adam you’ve got to pull yourself together

Perry: Gosh it disturbs me to see you Adam, looking so down in the dumps

Perry: Every guy here’d love to be you Adam, even when taking your lumps

Perry: There’s no man in town as admired as you, you’re everyone’s favourite guuuuy

Perry: Everyone’s awed and inspired by you. and it’s not very hard to see whyyyyy

Perry: Noooo one’s slick as Adam, no one’s quick as adam

Perry: No one’s desires are incredibly sick as Adam

Perry: There’s no man in town half as manlyyy, Perfect, a pure paragon

Perry: You can ask any Tom, Dick or Stanley

Perry: And they’ll tell you what team they’d prefer to be oooooonnn

Perry: Nooo one’s been like Adam, a king pin like Adam

Perry: No one’s got a swell cleft in his chin like gaston

Adam: As a specimen yes i’m iiintimidaaating

Perry: My, what a guy that Adam!

Crowd: *various cheers and hurrahs*

Perry: Adam is the best and the rest is all drips

Perry: Nooooo oonee fights like Adam, douses lights like Adam

Perry: Nobody fights for faunus’ rights like Adam

Crowd: For there’s no one as burly or brawny

Adam: As you see i’ve got biceps to spaaaare

Perry: Not a bit of him’s scraggly or scrawnyyyy

Adam: That’s right!

Adam: And my hatred of humans is compleeeetleey faaaair

Crowd: No one hits like Adam, matches wits like Adam

Perry: No one flies into dangerous fits like Adam

Adam: I’m especially good at shotgun aaaiming

***KABOOM***

Crowd: Ten points for Adam

Adam: When i was a lad i killed four dozen men, every morning to help me good

Adam: Now that i’m grown i kill five dozen men, so i’m roughly as good as i looooooook

Crowd: My what a guy that Adam!

Crowd: No one culls like Adam, looks like bulls like Adam

Perry: Then goes around stomping on skulls like Adam

Adam: I use humans in all of my deeecooraaaaating

Crowd: My what a guy that Adam!

Autumn ride together 🍂 Where are they going? 🍁

6

ed sheeran's divide: [½]

“The whole album being called divide…There’s a lot of schizophrenic sounds on here, very different.”