the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

comfort is suffocating

Day 7 - Scatter

His biggest fear.

(Bonus doodle underneath because I felt bad for Fakir so I ended up making this into a dream sequence comic :'] )

🌹

we all listened to hits different and were like “yeah that’s normal” and moved on. like that song says so much but is masked by the upbeat production

GEORGIE!? "THAT PODCAST"!? INTER DIMENSIONAL TIME TELEPORTATION!? GERRY AND GERTRUDE!? T H E E X T I N C T I O N ! ?

This is radically off-topic, but I wanted to share an observance that perhaps hasn't become reality for some of you yet, but maybe the forewarning will help you in the long run.

One of my favorite singers of all time died very suddenly virtually on stage this past october. He was quite young, considering, at 57, and there was no explanation for it other than Fate snappings its fingers to take him away (it was a sudden brain hemorrhage).

This man, at the heigh of his youth, was, I would argue, one of the most beautiful people to have ever graced this Earth. He was gorgeous. His eyes could stop an entire room in its tracks. While inside he seemed quite shy and retiring, he seemed to not help stepping into a space like he commanded it. When he left us, he was still beautiful- no question- but Time, of course, is obliged to do its damage and he was no exception. Truly, none of us are.

My father spent my childhood reminding me that growing older is a privilege not everybody gets, because the alternative to "not growing up" is being dead. Of course, he's right.

After we lost the singer I loved so much, I've spent a lot of time considering beauty, age, entropy, and death. I have thought about who might be next, and how hard it would hit me- would it be just as awful as losing *him*? Or could it be even worse somehow?

My singer's death was sudden, and getting the news straight from an old friend in Tokyo before I even got out of bed was simultaneously like being hit by a truck and having a comforting balm immediately applied. I wonder now if those who go like that, fade away suddenly in a couple of hours, gain the privilege of preemptively comforting others from the other side once the news gets out. This was my impression anyway.

But others we love from afar, be they other musicians or actors or who knows what, are less likely to exit this world so abruptly. My singer once walked this earth as a living, breathing work of art-made-flesh, and while he lived long enough to wilt just enough under time's heavy burden, we did not have to watch him truly grow old. We, as people far removed who loved him no matter the year, were spared that mental dissonance, but the price was his life.

And so I have spent moments revisiting others I have loved since I was in school. The time has not even been that terribly great, in the grand scheme of things, but I have realized that the effects are inescapable. Not just on them, but also for myself. I look into the latest and rare ungarded photo of another I have loved so dearly and see the same wilting- another who walked and looked like a god and whose beauty we relished and appreciated for the living art he is. And I see the signs. It's around his eyes. The uptick of his mouth. And then I look in the mirror at myself, and I see, despite being so much younger, the same early hints of the price of living start to feather and touch my own body.

God willing he will make it to a far advanced age, but the price is losing human art. He will fade, and all we will have are photographs. But at least we will have photographs!!! What do I have for myself? Very little, if I am honest. I think about this sometimes, and wonder if it's too late.

Obviously looks are not the sum of a person, of course they aren't, and **this is not a post arguing that they are**. But they are the calling card and outward identity by which we recognize and interact with and cling to each other. For good or ill. We all walk this planet as unique pieces of art, and we all have individuals whose artistry we particularly love the most. In essence, that is what this post is about- admiration- and coming to the stark realization that, unlike paintings hanging in a museum, the living works of art we love have an expiration date. For myself, I have come to realize that facing the cognative dissonance of the Change is a jarring experience. Especially when it comes to musicians, we tend to cling to them during our worst times, especially as teenagers. They become Fixed Points in our psyches, and to suddenly become confronted with same-but-not-the-same, and god forbid death.....is this what becoming An Adult(tm) means? Not just having to watch what we love fade before our eyes but to also realize, like being thrown into a pool of ice water, that we are next? And that Time and Entropy have already begun to tee us up for our quickly approaching turn?

And so, as we began to love each other from a distance, god willing we will now age into the abyss together from a distance. I have often wondered if the truly elderly are sometimes happy for their turn to go because it at least means they can be reunited, one way or another, with those they also saw as dazzling paragons at their height who have since faded and gone.

This post is not particularly happy and likely comes off as a bit dark, but this is all to say, with my whole chest--- enjoy the era and the times you find yourself in. Enjoy and cherish and go see with your own two eyes the artists and others you love, now, here, as they currently are, while they are, in your mind, perfect. Time does not stop nor tarry for any of us, so you should not either. Don't wait to be with and look with admiration on others- or be too embarrassed to, either, for that matter- because this moment is so short, and soon this time will have passed and will be just a fond memory that you may wonder one day, just as I have done lately, where the ones you loved have gone. And perhaps you will also, like me, scream and cry and curl your fist at the ruthlessness of a universe that forces all of us into the same room together just so we can watch each other grow old and eventually die.

I wrote a short story once, after my grandfather passed ten years ago, about how life was essentially one big waiting room, not dissimilar to a doctor's office. There are toys to play with, magazines to read, sights to see outside of the window, but eventually the nurse will come in, call your name, and you will exit. I suppose I would add to this motif now the advice to don't forget to look around yourself either. Speak to the person sitting next to you. Admire the child and grandmother alike playing on the other side of the room. Tell the cute guy watching them you think he's hot- you'll likely never encounter him again so why not? Or who knows- maybe it'll go somewhere. After all, we are all stuck in this waiting room together. It may seem initially dull, but don't waste this chance. Admire everything with your whole being. This moment will not come again.

As we just passed the one year anniversary of this side blog, I thought it might be fun to share a fact about myself: despite having a side blog dedicated to a show about alien insects, I have a life long fear of bugs.

🎵

it took me a few tries to get tumblr to actually insert the song but it should work now? just in case: alternative yt link

★ [ Music tag ]

★ natsu no yuki // snow in summer

she is winter and he is summer; they're snow and sun. it's a song about gradually opening up, about the warmth of summer slowly melting the snow and giving her a newfound hope that is trying so, so hard to rescue her from her own fate (her own impending doom, even) to finally allow her to find sense in "living"... only to lost everything.

Will I see you again someday, somewhere? Seasons go around in reverse Fluttering snow rises into the sky (If I could turn back time) Could I reach you, just a little? I want to see you, but I can't Let me sing to you a summer song

Bloomed endlessly The flower that never withers, the flower of oath Ah, the world without you Proof to live on

I wonder if I can be the snow falling in summer

because he is everything to her and she has been everything to him but weren't meant to be together. and yet they grew so much next to each other. she looks back fondly into their memories because she promised to keep moving forward... but keeps dreaming of something that can't be, because he is no longer by her side </3

see what i did. see what this song does too me and why i went insane analyzing the lyrics? i've been using the sun/snow methaphor for years now because ryo is winter, harsh and cold and not a season everyone can like. and yet ayato is so, so bright he's summer: he's the sun, grabbing everyone's attention and bringing light even to the darkness corners. and light is attracted to darkness and the other way around— red and blue; day and night; sun and moon.

save me dianxia

i like to think that i play it cool about being way too history for the most part but then everytime i get drunk i begin to ramble about the epic of gilgamesh to anyone who will listen and cannot be stopped

Didn't even make it til 10AM without sobbing at my desk this time.

merlot + strawberry for the red asks !!

merlot: do you have any unusual fears?

umm idk if i have any unusual fears? except theres a large body of water close to me and it freaks me out at night when we drive by and you cant tell where the sky meets the water. it also freaks me out whenever i have dreams of bugs in my home not bc of bugs but cause i always think the dream means something bad. also when i see things shifting but theres nothing there. recently been scared of being out in the street but idk if thats unusual cause its not a very safe place to be rn lmao

strawberry: what album would you love to have on vinyl?

CHALTE CHALTE ORIGINAL MOVIE SOUNDTRACK. DIL SE ORIGINAL MOVIE SOUNDTRACK. SMILE (2020) BY EVE. LAUREL HELL MITSKI

jorts for will 1.17 -- "will's perspective"

still can't decide how close this is going to follow the series. I'm really proud of the hands on that last one!

tip me!

Week 2: i don't know how i'm going to handle a husky puppy, it's too much, but the thought of surrendering her back to the shelter is making me cry with guilt and i just can't do that to her

Week 4: we're finding our rhythm together and if anyone looks at my precious beloved amazing babygirl with anything less than worship then i will commit an Absolute Violence upon their person

hearing Rachel Maksy say she has a fear of "manmade things in water" and suddenly realizing OHHHH there is probably a word for my bizarre and inexplicable fear of pool filters, drains, lights....any Thing in a Pool that's not water, human, or pool toy.