rough translations of the fun parts with timestamp
(03:28) mikako said she remembered shuu and sayaka were extremely nervous during the first table read of Un Nouveau Voyage. she couldn’t understand why they had to be nervous when they are replicas of their characters
(04:47) karin said she is someone who has difficulty taking the initiative knowing new people. shuu recalled that when she first met karin during their photoshoot, karin didn’t dared to look at her in the eyes and she was near whispering introducing herself
(09:10) thoughts after watching the recap video of La Reconquista. shuu: even though it has been said many times, but saton and friends became prettier over the past 3 years. saton’s eyes have became bigger. mikako: it is oniichan (elder brother)’s POV
A transformation of consciousness will definitely change your life. But I mean transformation of consciousness, I do not mean changing your mood for a while. We all feel good for a time and then come back to our “natural” state. By transformation I mean thinking differently, positively about yourself so often that it becomes a habit. And until the habit grows stable. At this point it will expel from your mind all the rival states such as poverty thinking. This new state really will create a new world. It spells out a transformation, but if you only do it a little bit and return to your former state, then you’ll notice things changed for a while but nothing radical took place. If you have changed inwardly, truly, then you will see change in your outer world.
Keep in mind the most wonderful tool alive is to sit alone at home and construct a sentence that implies you’ve fulfilled your desire. Repeating it to yourself, seeing yourself with it, you shall draw to yourself every person and situation on Earth to fulfill it.
*This was my summary of Three Propositions by Neville Goddard*
When I think of art, I think of beauty. Beauty is the mystery of
life. It is not in the eye, it is in my mind. In our minds there
is awareness of perfection.
We respond to beauty with emotion. Beauty speaks a message to
us. We are confused about this message because of distractions.
Sometimes we even think that it is in the mail. The message is
about different kinds of happiness and joy. Joy is most
successfully represented in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and by
All artwork is about beauty; all positive work represents it and
celebrates it. All negative art protests the lack of beauty in
our lives. When a beautiful rose dies, beauty does not die
because it is not really in the rose. Beauty is an awareness in
the mind. It is a mental and emotional response that we make. We
respond to life as though it were perfect. When we go into a
forest we do not see the fallen rotting trees. We are inspired
by a multitude of uprising trees. We even hear a silence when it
is not really silent. When we see a newborn baby we say it is
beautiful – perfect.
The goal of life is happiness and to respond to life as though
it were perfect is the way to happiness. It is also the way to
It is not in the role of an artist to worry about life – to feel
responsible for creating a better world. This is a very serious
distraction. All your conditioning has been directed toward
intellectual living. This is useless in artwork. All human
knowledge is useless in artwork. Concepts, relationships,
categories, classifications, deductions are distractions of mind
that we wish to hold free for inspiration.
There are two parts of the mind. The outer mind that records
facts and the inner mind that says "yes" and "no." When you
think of something that you should do, the inner mind says "yes"
and you feel elated. We call this inspiration.
For an artist this is the only way. There is no help anywhere.
He must listen to his own mind.
The way of the artist is an entirely different way. It is a way
of surrender. He must surrender to his own mind.
When you look in your mind you find it covered with a lot of
rubbishy thoughts. You have to penetrate these and hear what
your mind is telling you to do. Such work is original work. All
other work made from ideas is not inspired and is not artwork.
Artwork is responded to with happy emotions. Work about ideas is
responded to with other ideas. There is so much written about
art that it is mistaken for an intellectual pursuit.
It is quite commonly thought that the intellect is responsible
for everything that is made and done. It is commonly thought
that everything that is can be put into words. But there is a
wide range of emotional response that we make that cannot be put
into words. We are so used to making these emotional responses
that we are not consciously aware of them until they are
represented in artwork.
Out emotional life is really dominant over our intellectual
life, but we do not realize it.
You must discover the artwork that you like, and realize the
response that you make to it. You must especially know the
response that you make to your own work. It is in this way that
you discover your direction and the truth about yourself. If you
do not discover your response to your own work, you miss the
reward. You must look at the work and know how it makes you
If you are not an artist, you can make discoveries about
yourself by knowing your response to work that you like.
Ask yourself, What kind of happiness do I feel with this music
or this picture?
There is happiness that we feel without any material
stimulation. We may wake up in the morning feeling happy for no
reason. Abstract or nonobjective feelings are a very important
part of our lives. Personal emotions and sentimentality are
We make artwork as something that we have to do, not knowing how
it will work out. When it is finished we have to see if it is
effective. Even if we obey inspiration we cannot expect all the
work to be successful. An artist is a person who can recognize
If you were a composer you would not expect everything you
played to be a composition. It iss the same in the graphic arts.
There are many failures.
Artwork is the only work in the world that is unmaterialistic.
All other work contributes to human welfare and comfort. You can
see from this that human welfare and comfort are not the
interests of the artist. He is irresponsible because his life
goes in a different direction. His mind will be involved with
beauty and happiness. It is possible to work at something other
than art and maintain this state of mind and be moving ahead as
an artist. The unmaterial interest is essential.
The newest trend and the art scene are unnecessary distractions
for a serious artist. He will much more rewarded responding to
art of all times and places – not as art history but considering
each piece and its value to him.
You can't think, My life is more important than the work, and
get the work. You have to think the work is paramount in your
life. An artist's life is adventurous: one new thing after
I have been talking directly to artists, but it applies to all.
Take advantage of the awareness of perfection in your mind. See
perfection in everything around you. See if you can discover
your true feelings when listening to music. Make happiness your
goal. The way to discover the truth about this life is to
discover yourself. Say to yourself, What do I like and what do I
want? Find out exactly what you want in life. Ask your mind for
inspiration about everything.
Beauty illustrates happiness: the wind in the grass, the
glistening waves following each other, the flight of birds – all
speak of happiness.
The clear blue sky illustrates a different kind of happiness,
and the soft dark night a different kind. There are an infinite
number of different kinds of happiness.
The response is the same for the observer as it is for the
artist. The response to art is the real art field.
Composition is an absolute mystery. It is dictated by the mind.
The artist searchers for certain sounds or lines that are
acceptable to the mind and finally an arrangement of them that
is acceptable. The acceptable compositions arouse certain
feelings of appreciation in the observer. Some compositions
appeal to some, and some to others.
But if they are not accepted by the artist's mind, they will not
appeal to anyone. Composition and acceptance by mind are
essential to artwork. Commercial art is consciously made to
appeal to the senses, which is different. Artwork is very
valuable and it is also very scarce. It takes a great deal of
application to make a composition that is totally acceptable.
Beethoven's symphonies, with every note composed, represent a
titanic human effort.
To progress in life you must give up the things that you do not
like. Give up doing the things that you do not like to do. You
must find the things that you do like – the things that are
acceptable to your mind.
You can see that you will have to have time to yourself to find
out what appeals to your mind. While you go along with others,
you are not really living your life.
To rebel against others is just as futile. You must find your
Happiness is being on the beam with life – to feel the pull of
I WOULD DIE AND GO TO HEAVEN IF YOU WROTE TENDOU MASTURBATING TO HIS CRUSHES INSTAGRAM PICTURES LIKE YOUR HEADCANONS
《I leave for two weeks and come back swinging (Sinning? Swinging? I???》
Part of him felt guilty, but only a sliver, for he was nothing but a filthy sinner.
He was a sinner and not in the usual way he referred to himself as. He called himself a sinner when he made a really bad pun on tumblr, or stayed up until three in the morning watching a bad anime. He called himself a sinner when he did something mildly distracting, or stupid or anywhere inbetween, but oh no, right now, in this very moment, everything he did was a cold, hard, sin.
He always thought she had a fairly innocent glow to her. She never did anything all that awry, got good grades, always smelled of peaches and ever so slightly of jasmine. She had a Rilakkuma charm hanging from her phone everywhere she went and when something excited her, her full cheeks flushed the same pastel pink as the charismatic aura around her. She was adorable, a saint, per say, the kind of stranger you wouldn’t mind sharing your personal information with on a train ride to downtown. She deserved the world, but dear god, she didn’t deserve the humility of this.
The incessant chanting of her first name had probably woken up his older sister in the bedroom next door, but even if she had heard, she was letting him go at it. The phone in his left hand was being clutched far too tightly, but not even for a moment did Tendou stop to think he was going to break it. His cheeks were burning, he could feel it, although he couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or embarrassment. He figured both, because never in his life had euphoria taken him like this, and even if the glory of the moment was so spectacular, the face on his phone screen took all that euphoria and conjured it into embarrassment. Just seeing her face right there, so close to him but so far away, was enough to make his insides churn. He figured that if her face was something he saw on the regular, it wouldn’t be too bad. But hell, she was just the girl who sat next to him in AP biology, the girl who would occasionally smile at him and ask how volleyball was going, the girl who would brush her knee against his and apologize profusely for minutes afterwards. They were acquaintances on good terms, they weren’t even friends, let alone lovers, for God’s sake. He didn’t have time to feel guilty, though, with his hand around his shaft and his mind in outer space. He was focusing on one thing, and one thing only.
Part of him felt like he was betraying himself, in the slightest. He had vowed to never take a girl for advantage, but here he was, practically using a girl who had no idea she was being used. He wasn’t even sure if he had fully processed the fact that he was masturbating to an instagram picture of her, all dolled up in nothing but a plain t-shirt and jeans, but for some god forsaken reason, the fake smile on her face and the gleam of the light where the filter was evident got him off even more.
He had to set the phone down, but he just couldn’t. Something was washing over him, and he needed something to grip onto, not just his bruising shaft. He couldn’t let that picture go though, it was just too mesmerizing, so Tendou found himself clutching onto his poor, expensive iPhone so hard the corners of the screen started dilating violet from the pressure. He didn’t seem to care, though.
“__…” The name passed through his lips like venom, and as he threw his head to the jside he swore he could almost feel her lips on his neck, and how much he’d kill for them to really be there.
“__…” He whined once more, biting down harshly into the soft cotton of his pillow. His eyes begged to be clamped shut but he just couldn’t when they were also glued tight on the cynical brightness of his phone screen. He whined something incomprehensible, a tingle shooting up from his shaft, towards his pelvis, all the way up his spine and tummy, and residing in his cheeks. Dare he say he moaned, then, whispering her languid name once more and letting go, the languid strokes never ceasing to a stop as he came, all over the delicate softness of her fabricated face.
He regained his composure after a while, his heavy breathing coming to a decline before he got a good look at the mess he had made. His poor phone, first strangled, now suffocated in his own semen, laying face down on his bed next to him. Somehow, it was safe, but the pixilated wetness of cum around the corners of her mouth and cheeks made him with the phone had combusted along with him. The redness rushed up to his cheeks once more, and instead of muttering her name he found himself mouthing “I’m sorry” over and over again under his shaky breath. She could never know about this, and he never intended on letting her know anyways. This would go to the grave with him as his and her little secret, well, not really.
《I just re-read this and the errors were 👌👌👌 A+++ why the fuck am I like this》
Loving yourself is not as easy as looking in the mirror and feeling good. It’s loving the faults, knowing they are there and no amount of online scrubs, make up or haircuts can change it. It’s not about working out everyday until you have a six pack and being able to say ’ I loved myself before I was fit’. It’s about acceptance. Accepting who you are and what you want. Working for what you want and want to do. Loving yourself is treating yourself as a equal, to other people, to your past self and future self.
words can make things easier. it can coat the darkness and sadness in beauty. it can capture the meaning you feel when you laugh with your friends, and describe the emptiness inside of you when you can’t seem to open your eyes in the morning. and when you begin to write, suddenly the magic in everything becomes so apparent that the poems just come naturally.
words can be comforting.
when there is a great sadness in my bones, i read poems i wrote when i was happy, and grow confident that i will find peace again.late at night, when it feels as if the whole world has left me to my mind, poems still remain from times that i belonged. when i need to be anywhere but here, i describe the places i feel most at home, and suddenly i am there.
unlike photographs, writing can capture such things as the crunch of autumn leaves beneath a falling foot, and the tired red feeling in your eyes after a long cry. only writing can delve into the deep parts of your mind where outer art does not touch.
yes, writing may not be as beautiful as a painting, nor as catchy as a song, but you cannot deny that it has a magic of its own.