#I'm reading Camus again so these thoughts come | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simplymarr · 27 days

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Chapter two.

warnings: none.

The next morning was gloomy. The classroom filled with people like always and the weak, pale light coming through the windows made it look even more suffocating.

The class started at the usual hour. As he talked i could tell that his accent made his voice sound quite raspier. The humidity in the air made his skin look like porcelain, glistening in the dark of the room.

He made a couple of questions and by the time the class was ending i was quite embarrased i was the only one answering; yes, i was passionate about study but i didn't want him to think i was trying too hard.

He didn't seem to care.

I stepped out of the building about 10 am and as i walked towards the street i saw him getting into his car. It was a dark-green chevy malibu, perhaps from the mid 70's. My fist thought was that, somehow, the car matched perfectly with his looks. Once he was inside he lit a cigarrette just like the day before. Suddenly he raised his head and looked at me, smoke coming out of his mouth. I was embarrased that he caught me staring at him so i began walking faster than before.

a couple of minutes and some blocks before it started raining. Large drops of water fell on every surface of my face and clothes. I hadn't even brought an umbrella and i was carrying all of my books. The sky completely fell apart as if it was laughing at me.

"Fuck. Is there something else that could happen to me, God?" I thought to myself.

Question aswered. Again.

That vintage chevy again, this time coming behind me then driving slowly, almost stopping, by my side. The window opened revealing the silver hair and the blue eyes that were driving it.

"Do you need a ride? It's getting dangerous to walk with this rain". He said, raising his voice a little, for all the water that was hitting the ceilling of the car made a big and loud noise.

"Oh, no thanks. It's just a couple of blocks until the bus stop".

"Well, it seems like you're gonna get there swimming then". He said, with an ironic but concerned tone.

" It's not a problem, really. I don't want to bother you" . I stuttered with a not convincing smile as i kept walking. He kept driving slowly by my side with the opened window, the grey strands of hair starting to get wet.

"Look, i have to drive all across downtown, it's really not a problem".

I stopped walking, looking at him quite ashamed. The water starting to get on my eyes and shoes. I hessitated.

"I don't bite." He said, with a soft smile. The lines on each side of his mouth appeared again.

I laughed at his bad joke and opted for getting into the car.

As i closed the door the watery sounds stopped, the air filled now with silence. It was kind of awkward for me. A student getting into her professor's car?

He looked at me quickly and i met his eyes. Then he lowered his gaze and streched out his free hand to open the glove compartment, positioned in front of my knees. He brushed them unintentionally with his nuckles and i prayed to God not to blush in front of him. Then he took out a pack of cigarrettes and aproached them to me, offering me one.

"How much does this man even smokes?" i thought to myself.

Though i've smoked casually, i said no with my head and then he put one between his lips.

He broke the silence first.

"I have been reading the drafts you submitted in class. They`re consistent, though i have made some remarks for you to work on. I'm sure it's not going to be a problem". He said with the unlit cig still in his lips. Then he reached out for the lighter.

"Well, thank you. I've been working really hard. I guess being the girl in law school kind of obligates you to".

He laughed, kindly. "y/n, isn't it?" He asked, pronouncing my first name with his french accent.

I nodded with a soft smile. My nervious hands gripping my still wet books.

"Ah, l'Etranger, d'Albert Camus" He said, looking over to the novel i had in between my hands. His voice dripping perfectly in each syllable. "Great, great work."

"Isn't it? Existentialism could not kill me even if it tried." I joked badly, looking at his hands gripping the steering wheel. He looked at me and laughed.

We spent the next 15 minutes talking about books, philosophy, his carreer and what was i going to do with mine once i gratuated.

He seemed the kind of man that likes to listen. He kept asking me questions and i was surprised with how much attention he payed to my words, dissecting every phrase and analyzing every tone of mine. He was very funny too. Kind of an ironic humor that matched with mine.

I didn't even notice that it had stopped raining and that we were parked at the bus stop. I looked at him with surprise, which he seemed to reciprocate.

"Thank you so much for the ride".

"Sure you don't need me to drive you home? I still have a trip to make". His tone felt genuine.

"Oh no, you've already done too much. Thanks anyway". I said while i stepped out of the car.

I bent slightly and looked over the window, no clear words passed my mind but i wanted to see him once again.

"See you next class. Oh, and i will email you the corrections soon, okay?".

"Okay". i said, nodding softly. "Thanks, Mr. Renzi".

"Just Vincent". He smiled at me once again and i reciprocated.

He started the car as soon as i stopped the bus with my hand, and i was kind of wishing we were still talking.

next chapter soon.

#vincent renzi fanfic #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi #swann arlaud #swann arlaud fanfic

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ddarker-dreams · 8 months

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Hellooooo I have been DYING to know this from you 👉👈. You know how there's a lot of tips for writing stuff? Well do you happen to have any tips for reading stuff? I want to read the books you recommend but I fear I'm just too dumb 😭 and won't understand what is going on let alone the themes and philosophies discussed. I feel like I would be insulting Dostoevsky by reading his work looool. We were never taught this stuff in schools ;O

I'm talking about critical thinking and analysis skills, media literacy, being able to picture and visualise sceneries; characters' voices/appearances etc., and just overall being able to comprehend one sentence that doesn't use the most basic active voice structure 😭 thank you if you choose to answer!!!!

SWEET ANON !!!! YOU ARE NOT DUMB !!!!

this is coming from a survivor of the american education system, so it might not be universal, but my experiences in middle/high school made me dislike reading books. no joke. i didn't see the point and thought reading the classics was a waste of time. i'm sure that's partially teenager arrogance, but from the conversations i've had with others, reading was rarely framed in a way that stoked intrigue. we're not given the tools to engage with the text so i'm rarely surprised when i see the worst takes imaginable on a piece of media i enjoy from a 14 year old.

i'm still learning myself when it comes to media literacy, it's an ongoing journey. when i read notes from underground for the first time last year i was literally so confused. i can normally read anywhere from 80k-100k words in one day if i'm motivated enough, but NFU, a novella at around 43k words, took me over a week.

i say all this to reassure you that you're not alone!

some advice that comes to mind when reading a dense work:

do some background research on the author. i know teachers hiss at wikipedia for some reason but reading a few paragraphs about the person's life, beliefs, politics, etc really helps put their writing into perspective.

look into the time period it was written. what were the pressing social issues at the time? who was in charge? what conflicts were ongoing/just ended? what was the predominant religion? books don't exist in a vacuum, a lot of the classics are filled with jabs at ideologies the author doesn't like (i'm looking at you, dante).

if the author's from a different country than you, getting a basic grasp on the culture helps a lot. with reading dostoevsky specifically, historical events like the emancipation of the serfs was an entirely new concept to my american brain.

not everything is going to make sense. sometimes the cultural/historical layers go so deep you'd need to have been alive at the time to immediately get it. fortunately, there are nerds with degrees in book who do extensive research and can give insight. i'll think i maybe understand a book okay, go to read a journal article on it, and go ??????? wat???? page 632 paragraph 3 references euclid's optics?? how was i supposed to know that.

finally, you're not going to like every book you read, even if it's well written. there's a difference between persevering and actively torturing yourself with words. if you dread picking it up again, there are other books to check out instead. there are some classics that i don't care for much (some of edgar allen poe's short stories, the fall by albert camus, no longer human by dazai osamu, to name a few).

ask yourself questions while reading. why did this character do that? is there a reoccurring motif throughout the work, and if so, why might the author be trying to highlight that? what perspective is the work from? is the protagonist lucid, are they an unreliable narrator? what themes are being explored here?

i hope some of this helps dsfhgkdjshgks there's a lot to be said on the subject but i didn't want this post to be miles long.

#answered #Anonymous

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pebblysand · 2 months

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hello! you may find the entire playlist on spotify here. below is some more information on my song choices.

Castle by Eminem: very anticlimactic but i will only really be able to explain this one after the last chapter comes out. so, come back in a bit ^^.

Things We Lost In The Fire by Bastille: it's funny, i'm a massive bastille fan but it didn't really hit me how castles that song is until i went to see them live last summer. i remember being in the crowd and thinking to myself: god this is so on point. i think the lyric that gets me most is: the future's in our hands and we will never be the same again. there's such a dichotomy to that and it's so representative of what is happening in this chapter, which is harry and the trio sort of reconning with the concept of time and the post-war state of things and: now what? the excitement of: we survived and the future's in our hands, but also we'll never be the same again because we lost all these things (people) in the fire (war). i just find it very apt.

O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds: firstly, i love that song, i thing it's beautiful and it just nails that post-war tone of the early chapters. the cleaners are coming one by one, they measure the room, they know the score, etc. secondly, this is obviously the harry& hermione song, which is a massive vibe and plot point of this chapter. i will defend the dance to my dying day, i think it's one of the most beautiful scenes in the whole film and those who don't like it because of the harmony vibes are wrong. that's it 😅.

UNHEALTHY by Anne-Marie: this is a more recent addition, but doesn't this song kind of have early harry/ginny vibes? i'll let you listen and be the judge.

Wonderwall by Oasis: harry mentions oasis in this chapter, so of course i had to add this. i have listened to this song so much in the past 20 years, i can't even tell if i like it or not. anyway, here's wonderwall 😅.

Pompeii by Bastille: ah. the infamous break down of everything. as i've already said, absolutely love bastille, and this one is a classic.

Shadow Preachers by Zella Day: i added this one more recently but i feel like it also had very strong early harry/ginny vibes. i also like that it sounds a bit similar-ish to pompeii in that sort of break down of everything vibe. there's a sort of desperation to that song that i feel really fits well.

Place de la République by Coeur de Pirate: firstly, if you think of coeur de pirate as comme des enfants and don't know anything else from her, i am begging you to open to your heart to her other songs/albums, she's incredible. secondly, i've always loved this song. it so well captures this sort of regretful break up situation where she is breaking up with someone because of distance and giving them one last chance to show up and they don't. i feel like it's very much a ginny song in chapter 3, this way she doesn't really want to break up with harry but has to. it's just 😫.

Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi: i've gone back and forth a lot on this song, whether to include it or not. it's almost Too Much. but, also, harry is a bit Too Much in this, so it just fits.

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths: this is... very literal, i don't think i need to explain. i will say, for a very long time, i didn't know where the french bits were from. it sounded like some sort of documentary about suicide, which i thought was odd, but it's actually a reading of the myth of sisyphus by albert camus. i've never read it because i've only ever read camus's fiction, but he is one of my favourite french authors, so i was happy to find that out. it works with the song incredibly well, obviously.

Hell or Highwater by Passenger: we're back with the break up songs. i love this one because it very much is about the confusion and the not knowing what caused the break up, which i think is very fitting for harry, here. i also just love the writing in this song, the way he uses the "hell or highwater" saying in a different way - it's a song i very much love, even outside of castles.

Six Degrees of Separation by The Script: idk, this song has such strong 2000s vibes, and it's so break-up-y dramatic - it just fits, you know? 😅.

Giants by Dermot Kennedy: this playlist supports irish artists! ✊🏻 jokes aside, i kind of see this song as having a bit of a double-meaning here. like, of course, it's hinny break up song and plays - again - to that lack of understanding (we used to be giants, when did we stop?) but i also see it as reflective of harry's broader state of mind. it's this post-war confusion of: we used to do these great, important things, and what is our purpose, now? obviously, this first arc is very much about finding a reason to live after the war, so i feel like this song works for both plotlines.

As It Was by Harry Styles: i'm not a massive harry styles fan so the first time i ever heard this song was when he was on tour and the 'LEAVE AMERICA' trend was all over tiktok. and, i don't know, the moment i heard the song as a whole i was like, 'fuck, this is such a castles song!' especially of that early, post-war, confused era of: 'harry what are you doing sitting at home on the floor, what kind of pills are you on?' it just had to be in this playlist.

Fear of Fear by Passenger: this song is just a mood. i feel like it could play over a montage of the weeks passing in chapter four, and harry just going to work, trying to sleep, and going running in the night.

Le vent nous portera by Noir Désir: there's two reasons why this song is here. firstly, i feel like it signifies healing and the passage of time, which works very well with this chapter. it's a gorgeous song and has this idea of the wind just blowing the hardships away, an "it'll be alright" motto that i love. but also, what my international audience might not know is that this song is highly controversial - bertrand cantat, the lead singer of the band, beat his girlfriend - french actress marie trintignant - to death in 2003. he was arrested, went to jail - if you are french, just know that i'm not going to get into the Debate of whether he should still played/be listened to, etc. we all have our opinions and whichever way you're leaning i'm not going to change yours but i just wanted to note that i wouldn't have put this song in the playlist for any other chapter. but with the added theme of DV in the case giulia and harry work on here, i felt it was fitting.

Brave by Sara Bareilles: this is obviously giulia's pep-talk song haha! harry, get out of your rut, and be brave. i love it.

You're Not Special, Babe by Orla Gartland: i love this song. and, again, it's very giulia. i feel like both of these last songs for this chapter have this vibe of her telling harry to just get off his arse and do something, which is what he needed at that point. quit moping around, quit blaming yourself, you're not that special. it's really the kick off, onto chapter five.

Insomnia by Ren: ah, ren. if you've been following the playlist for a while, you will have noticed that i had a major ren moment between the end of 2023 and the start of 2024 and added, like, fifteen millions of his songs to the playlist. i feel like castles generally has such a ren "vibe" to it, which is wild because i didn't find him until well into writing the story. this song has this incredible line: i used to use drinking as a way to stop thinking and my problems with drinking made me feel like i was sinking, so i dried up my drinking and then i couldn't sleep a wink, and now i'm thinking, now i'm thinking, now i'm thinking, now i'm thinking about nothing. fucking nothing. and everything and nothing - i hate not sleeping. this is so on point for this chapter, which has harry's insomnia stalking those post-war months, and i absolutely love it.

The Last Unicorn by Passenger: ah, the first mia song 😫. my child. this is so scarily on point.

J'écoute du Miles Davis by Navii: this is really one of the core, OG castles songs as far as i'm concerned. i remember listening to it on loop very early on, writing the early chapters. i love the chorus of 'Et le temps passe' (and time passes) - it's this factual statement that i feel is very castles. "Time just - passes."

The Way I Am by Eminem: i was so mad to find out i couldn't use this song in text because it came out in 2001. obviously, very related to the press, fame, etc. which are topical for this chapter.

Dominoes by Ren: i added this one fairly recently. it's one of those songs that isn't precisely topical to the chapter itself, but i really liked the riff of "we fall like dominoes, dominoes, falling". it echoes that thing harry says about how he's afraid to fold because if the "leader" falls, then everyone comes cascading down. i felt like there's an interconnection in that song that resonates, here. and also, i think the thing about public perception and body shaming is also somewhat related to the treatment of girls in harry's life in the press.

Read All About It, Part III by Emili Sandé: i thought most people would already know this song because it was featured so prominently in the 2012 London Olympics, but i suppose it still didn't make it to america, 'cause i've had quite a few comments from people saying the playlist was the first time they'd heard it. anyway, it's obviously about harry using his voice and finally talking to the press, and it's amazing :).

Babylon by Barns Courtney: the vibes of this song feel like the fall of a civilisation and "the walls are caving in, you're paying for your sins" and... yeah. idk, i see this as the theme song to the whole battle scene at the lace mill.

What He Wrote by Laura Marling: this was always Giulia's "song" in my head, i'm not even sure why. it's got nothing to do with her but just based on vibes. i listened to this on loop writing her death. and, also, the connection with Peaky Blinders, which heavily inspired the first act of castles.

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens: this is just... a beautiful song about death lol. how cheerful 😅.

All My Tears by Ane Brun: and... another one, lol. also, another connection to PB.

Jimmy by Moriarty: i only have two songs for this chapter, probably because it used to be paired with chapter six so i initially didn't think of it as an independent item. anyway, this is one of my favourite songs in the world, and it's recently come to my attention that it fit quite well in here, with this idea of "coming home" (to the burrow, in harry's case. i feel like it works well with the general mood of the chapter.

CORALINE by Måneskin: ah. coraline, coraline, di me la tua verita... this is the beginning of harry, and ginny, and the letters, really.

Zombie by The Cranberries: canonically, Mia is a fan and while two cranberries songs are mentioned in this chapter, i always felt like this one fit better. first, because it's about a civil war that, in many ways, resembled the wizarding war. second, because i've always sort of thought as amycus as a bit of a zombie. like, he's dead but he still plagues ginny (and later harry) with the things he's done and their ramifications.

Rather Die by Barns Courtney: obviously, i'm a massive fan of barns courtney and i've always felt this song is very ginny during the war. basically, 'i'd rather die than give in.'

Repeat After Me by KONGOS: this song is obviously about the absolutist christian faith and someone trying to escape it, but i think there's something so rhythmic about it. in my head, i could see it playing over a montage of the DA pulling off stunts, getting attacked, getting back up again, fighting again, losing again, etc. there's also the 'repeat after me' of indoctrination that could very much apply to the ministry's propaganda. i remember listening to this song so much as i was writing this chapter, just to remind myself of the relentless sort of pacing i wanted to achieve.

Dopamine by Barns Courtney: okay so. this is the song of this chapter. i know it feels like it's not really about this chapter (it's clearly about drug addiction) but you cannot possibly imagine the number of times i listened to it as i was writing. i don't know. i love everything about it. the loud rock and instrumentals, the production, the lyrics. if we end it all, at least you're by my side. we could never die. and this: it's always the same. see the drink couldn't wash out the taste of your name. i literally think it's one of my favourite songs ever, and one of my favourite sentences ever written. i think in my head it's a bit about ginny sinking, about amycus, about harry. about everything. i would say dopamine is probably one of the most important songs in this playlist. i am so attached to it.

Thirteen Thirtyfive by Dillon: and... the last song. i will say this: i have since learnt that this song is about a woman who has lost a child (either through miscarriage, abortion or death after birth, it's not clear) and is reminiscing about what her life could have been. that is... not how i initially interpreted it. you may listen and come to your own conclusions. if you interpret it like the above, maybe it fits with pansy's story. if you don't... well. you'd be thirteen, i'd be thirty-five, gone to find a place for us to hide. be together but alone, as the need for it has grown. make of that what you will.

#castles

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3terna15unshin3 · 11 months

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Then Because She Goes

You are mine, I’ve been drowning in you

★ Chapter 1 of 15, 4283 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: none

— 17 April, 2018

The wheels on the metal cart Este struggled to push were in dire need of some grease. She winced at the loud squeaking noise it made, as her shoulders jumped up to soften the blow to her ears. It was decades old, the shop’s equipment, so Este was used to it. Bubbles emerged underneath the orange carpet as it bunched up and refused to let the heavy product across the store.

Nietzsche, Seneca, and Aurelius were just a few of the dozens of surnames sitting before her already drooping eyes, waiting patiently to return to the philosophy section on the quiet Tuesday morning. A seven-in-the-morning start time was odd for Este, as she had grown accustomed to coming in past midday and closing up the shop in the evening. But, the night before, her boss rang her and begged her to come in bright and early; since he’d forgotten that his daughter's piano performance was a matinee. He promised to cover the evening for her instead.

Samuel, her boss, was the forty-something year old owner of Greenhouse Books who usually covered mornings. He only hired the once teenage Este in attempts to save the live plants scattered across his store, since he was horrible at caring for them himself, and customers started to complain. But almost eight years later, she loved nothing more than the musty smell of used literature, and lived a quiet, content life surrounded by it.

The change of pace was bizarre. Sam almost always dealt with the non-fiction areas of the store. She felt oddly unfamiliar shelving what she had to that day, even with the years of experience under her belt. Her tan cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. Memoirs could be seen in her hands often but never philosophy, and the difficult to pronounce names didn't help her bare minimum knowledge on the genre.

Nonetheless, she squeezed a final book by Camus into the tightly packed bay and turned to wheel the cart back across the now permanently rippled carpet. Yikes. She'd have to tell Sam to get it stretched again or maybe ask him to just quit putting so many books on each cart at once.

“Oh well,” she muttered and tucked a wavy strand of her black hair behind her ear. “It’ll add to the charm.”

Interrupting the conversation Este was holding with nobody but herself, an elderly woman brushed through the front door.

“Good morning!” the woman exclaimed, smiling as she attempted to control her white hair that had been swept around by the Manchester wind.

“Morning! Watch your step, almost tripped on that ripple myself,” Este warned, perking up her voice to make a polite impression.

Wrinkles appeared near the woman’s eyes as she laughed and thanked Este gratefully, before asking for the whereabouts of Louise Penny’s books. After outstretching her arm and pointing over to the mystery section, the still half-asleep 26-year-old stationed herself back behind the counter.

An inconsistent flow of customer interactions continued throughout the day before Este found herself closing the store for thirty minutes to eat her lunch and brew a quick coffee. She flipped the sign in the window to the side that read ‘closed’ and then pranced to the back room to start their Nespresso for an americano. Leftover Thai food from last night's takeaway was scarfed into her stomach as she decided to eat in her spot behind the counter, enjoying the sun streaming in instead of hiding in the back.

Watching people walk past Greenhouse on the pavement was her daily entertainment; but it quickly backfired as Este remembered that the people walking by could actually see her too. Some pairs of eyes lingered on her a bit too long—out of curiosity, Este assumed—and it made her feel a bit like a zoo animal. So, she thought it’d be best to finish her meal in the back room; but before she could get there, someone tugged on the door trying to enter. It was locked of course, but her pushover mentality jumped up to open it anyway.

She hurriedly greeted the young man on the other side, mustering up an apology in her head. “I’m so sorry, I was just closed up for lunch! You’re welcome to come on in, I’m finishing up right away—”

He interrupted with a similar apologetic tone in his voice. “Oh—you’re on break! Please, no worries, I can come back another time. Enjoy your lunch!”

“Thank you, but I promise I don’t mind at all. Please come on in!” she argued, but he stepped backwards promptly and insisted on coming back later.

“I insist, you deserve your break. I’m sure this shop won’t disappear on me—no biggie. Seriously,” he finished, slipping his hand back into the pocket of his trench coat.

Este looked at the tattoo poking out of his sleeve. It said ‘DAD’. She stopped herself from staring and shot him one last ‘thank you’ while a soft smile lit up his face.

She let out a breath after the nervous and slightly desperate exchange, watching the man walk away. I may as well have begged him to stay on my hands and knees... Este thought to herself and cringed. Her eyes lingered as he ran his fingers through his hair and jogged to cross the street to enter the Starbucks that sat opposite her.

He could’ve read the sign, to be fair.

— April 21, 2018

After that lonesome Tuesday shift, some relief accompanied Este through the week as her typical evening hours were welcomed back into her schedule.

But, a pestering curiosity ate into Este's subconscious. She wondered if the 'DAD'-tattoo-having, lunch-break-interrupting guy ever came back in and whether he found what he was looking for. Maybe he had even more tattoos, and enjoyed reading Nietzsche, unlike her.

She always thought there was excitement within mystery. This fascination shined through with her habit of seeing intriguing strangers and creating little lives for them. Este did it all the time when meeting customers, since it was difficult (and far too existential) for her to conceptualise each person on Earth living a life just as thoroughly as her own. Were they not just entities who showed up to walk into her sight and then out of it again? How could they experience unique anxieties, have a favourite food, or dislike their mum's maiden name?

Este never had any luck accepting that reality, so she felt comfort through the creativity of just deciding what these strangers were like, using it as a way to pass time in the bookstore. She insisted that the Louise Penny woman from that early morning had countless amounts of cats, rarely leaving a stray on the street. She probably lived an eventful youth, travelling around the world, never having time for children, with the biggest sweet tooth known to humankind.

But he was different. Este struggled to pin any quirky and made-up attributes to the striking stranger. Nothing she stirred up in her mind felt like it fit. She began to think that maybe she was too curious to know the real answers to be able to come up with any make-believe ones. As rare as this struggle was for Este, the mere seconds-long interaction from earlier in the week slowly faltered from her memory.

✴

“It should arrive in, maybe, four to five business days. Can’t be sure with the post, though. Perfect. We’ll be in touch—my pleasure. Buh-bye.”

The blue Post-It note crumpled in her hand as Este finally made the last call on the order-in list Sam left for her. A sigh escaped her lips as she let herself relax into the bulk of her shift, only 45 minutes in so far.

She took a leisurely lap around the shop and dragged her fingertips over the greenery—some hanging, some sitting on any spare patch of carpet, others sprawled along the shelves—taking note of their growing crunchiness. Her eyes widened as she tried to recall the last time she’d watered them. It had been a while. Walking to the back, Este opened the leftmost cupboard in the kitchenette to grab their large glass pitcher.

Caring for the plants served as a great way to make the clock tick faster on a particularly slow day for Greenhouse. A customer would walk in no less than an hour after the previous one, and preferred to silently browse—Este's favourite type of shopper. But later, when she was due to close in a short half-hour, a pair of familiar eyes met hers through the front window.

Serving as a much more casual alternative to a trench coat, a bright yellow puffer jacket clad Matty this time around. He reached out a hand to try the door, similarly to his actions earlier in the week. Hesitating, he glanced over at the sign in the glass. It read ‘open’, thankfully, so he swung it wide and slid through. His curly hair slightly bounced back and forth as a memory of the awkward encounter came to the front of his mind, attempting to shake it out.

The last thing he wanted to do on his quick trip was to almost break and enter a locally praised small business. Good god, was that embarrassing, Matty thought.

After it happened, he waited in line at the Starbucks across the street and physically cringed—knowing that there was not a single chance he'd be stepping back into the shop on that same day. Enough damage to his ego had been done.

Every time he took a stroll through Manchester, to slow down the pace of his normally high-speed life, Greenhouse piqued his interest. Its charming energy inspired him to walk in a handful of times over the years; meeting the tall and bright blond owner with a small smile each time. So, he couldn't stop his feet from carrying him back down to the bookshop across from the Starbucks.

Matty was certain that he had never seen that particular worker before he'd disturbed her lunch, despite shopping at Greenhouse in the past. He would’ve remembered the fullness of her cheeks and her wavy black hair. As his eyes graced her a second time, now in the glow of the few lamps illuminating the shop instead of the late morning natural brightness, he gave her an acknowledging (and apologetic) smile and nod.

Este recognized him instantly and waved her hand lightly. “Evening,” she said, her single dimple showing up as she sent a smile back.

“Evening,” he replied casually. “Do you guys have an essay section? I never know where to look.”

Racking her brain for any essay recommendations and finding none, she answered him. “Yeah! It's just in the left back corner over there,” she pointed. “Rather small though, we don't tend to receive many essays nowadays and I can't say I've read any myself.”

He glanced over to where she pointed and nodded his head in realisation, eyes travelling back to hers. Normally, Matty would head over silently and go about his night—but a sudden urge to hear her speak again took over, and his feet stayed in place.

“Really? Not the essay type?”

“Not at all,” she shyly admitted, stepping out from behind the counter and deciding to go and show him the section herself. Este felt like he was striking a conversation with the intention of it lasting, so she chose to comply. Not that she needed much convincing.

He had a certain amiability to him, and even with the limited interaction they'd had together, Este felt it radiate. His eyebrows rose in curiosity and she knew he was listening deeply to their light small talk, which they fell into with ease. More apologies for the momentous Tuesday lunch incident were spewed between them before they learned the other's favourite genres, and the reason Matty had never seen her in the shop before. He made a mental note to come in the evening again next time.

Este liked the few greys hiding in his curly hair and was jealous of his jacket, planning to ask him where it was from if he ever came back in again (since maybe it was too early for that kind of thing). The way he said 'em' instead of 'um' was silly.

Matty couldn't stop staring at her dimple and accidentally smiled back every time it appeared on the left side of her face. In the couple steps they took, he counted up the 4 times she reached to fidget with her necklace. He thought it was a dragonfly, but wasn't completely sure.

“Here they are.” Her eyes scanned the few dozen essay anthologies that sat on the shelves, rather dusty. “Honestly not sure if you'll find anything good here. Can't recall the last time I saw anyone even browsing the section,” she admitted bluntly with a smile, poking fun at his odd reading taste.

Este’s playfulness dragged the edges of his mouth upwards, with his slightly crooked teeth on display.

“Thanks anyway,” he replied with a chuckle, but dragged his tone out—leaving space to let her finish his sentence, silently asking for her name.

She didn't quite get the memo, spouting a quick 'no worries' and flashing him another smile. Her eyes locked with his for a couple seconds as her body turned to lift a pile of books that were clearly out of place. Este had work to do, after all.

He wasn’t too concerned that he didn’t have a name to pair with her face, since he figured he’d remember her anyway. Keeping reserved on his time off, striking conversation wasn't something Matty often did—especially with strangers— but he felt strangely at home within the musty smelling book shop. Its warm lighting and orange carpet eased his eyes. It helped that he was entranced by its smiley staff, too.

Raising his finger to the shelf to help his eyes drag over the sideways book titles, he searched for something to read on the train back to London. He read them one by one. Something about evolution, something by Virginia Woolf. No, no.

“Jesus is the Way: Essays on His Master Plan,” he read aloud to himself as he picked up and inspected the brown novel. “Definitely no.”

Wandering around the shelves after no luck with any essays, Matty turned on his phone to grab the time. He'd been inside Greenhouse for no more than 20 minutes, but had to get back to start packing for his early train ride the next morning. He picked at the skin surrounding his nail beds with his teeth, out of habit, as he decided whether he should say something to the girl behind the counter before leaving.

She had just finished moving the stack of books she had lifted earlier, the abundance of them taking a couple trips. The heavy lifting forced her to catch her breath after she was done, cheeks slightly flushed. Matty noticed the tinge of pink in them and observed the way it mixed with her tanned skin. A subtle anxiety crept behind his ears while he walked past the register, stopping right in front.

“You weren't lying, the essay selection here is actually pretty shite,” he joked to catch her attention.

Este laughed at herself and raised her hands in the air next to her shoulders. “I mean, I'm no liar.” Her eyebrows raised and she shrugged, hands still in the air, as if saying 'I told you so'. “Nothing else caught your eye?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nope. Guess I'll just never read a book ever again. Thanks…” More sarcasm dripped from his voice as he hoped she'd fill in the space he left for her name, for a second time.

“Este,” she completed. “And hey, next time you should just have a better taste in books and then maybe you won't have to scour the essay section for something to read.”

Matty's quick wit shot a response back immediately, the friendly banter continuing. “I don't recall you offering any recommendations for me,” he argued.

A chuckle escaped her lips as her dimple appeared again, a smile brightening her face.

Since he couldn't help it, he smiled right back. “I'm Matty, by the way.”

She studied the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and pictured them becoming more noticeable when he laughs. He seemed like the type to laugh with his whole body; like he felt things deeply.

“Well Matty, I'd be happy to recommend something of my taste if you could find an essay anthology that won't make me want to rip my hair out of boredom,” Este posed.

He pointed at her, beginning to turn his body towards the door, his feet shuffling over.

“If that's a promise, then I'll be back.” Flashing another smile, Matty exited and ended the conversation there.

The door shut behind him as he let out a shaky breath, inhaling deeply for the first time in the past couple minutes. I should've said goodbye before leaving. Was saying that ‘I’ll be back’ weird? Was it creepy? he overthought. It was quite out of the blue to care so much about a short interaction with a stranger, but he found himself considering both what he did say and could have said to Este on his journey back.

As Matty stepped into his messy Airbnb, he thought about his itinerary for the following day and noticed a rare wave of dread tickling the back of his neck. After getting back to London, he'd be knee deep in work; likely living in the studio, pushing through the thick of writing and recording his third album. Out of context, four months sounded like plenty of time to finish it, but his trip back to his old stomping grounds—originally taken to bask in some calm before the storm—left a lot of space for thinking. The pressure was overwhelming.

Too much time spent diving through his own thoughts was never good for Matty. Things that he agreed were settled suddenly needed tweaking, making the newly 29-year-old eager to get back to work. The pure magnitude of it all was what he found himself to dread, the high expectations weighing on his conscience.His art only continued to explore genres (or the lack thereof), and fleeted with ambition—the only way to keep him sane—and the new instalment of The 1975 embraced that more than ever.

It's far too early to be worried about criticism, Matty decided internally, trying to fit a fifth pair of shoes into his suitcase.

He considered the surprisingly effortless exchange he shared with Este just an hour previous to his last-minute packing, and how it was the first he initiated while on his own in a long while. For a moment, he had no record to worry about, or deadlines to meet, and enjoyed the simple company of another person. Through the stress of his industrious life, Matty had a habit of forgetting that the naivety of moments like those in Greenhouse Books is sometimes all he needs for a surge of inspiration. The Greenhouse girl served as a good reminder.

A suddenly buoyant outlook for A Brief Inquiry accompanied Matty and his now fully zipped black luggage on the floor of his lounge. His tired hands reached for his phone and opened up Instagram, signing into his burner account, the official one still dormant and set to reactivate closer to the album release. The only intention he had on the social media app that night was to slyly search 'este' into his explore page, but none were the Este.

Must be a couple of other Este’s on the internet, I guess, Matty thought.

Before bed that night, he laid his head on his pillow, as a small spark of motivation soothed the pressure of the coming future.

— May 31, 2018

“The couch definitely can't go in that corner,” Este argued. “Everyone would break their necks trying to watch the T.V.” She sipped on her tea, elbows propped behind her on the kitchen island. “Seriously, Cate, tell me how you can be a graphic designer without having even a slight eye for interiors. It's appalling, honestly.”

A moment of silence sat between the two flatmates as they looked at each other, Cate’s jaw hanging open. “How about you tell me how you can be such a bitch and still live under the same roof as me?” she fired back playfully. “I'm gonna strangle you one day.” Her hands rose, forming an imaginary chokehold as the two laughed some more.

Cate joined Este in the kitchen to see the same view of their living room, tilting her head. Their brand new couch sat awkwardly in the centre of the space, both of them failing to realise how big it was before buying it online. Sweat once glistened at both of their foreheads as they rearranged all of the furniture that sat in front of the T.V., attempting to find some sort of solution, and ultimately playing a game of living room Tetris to try and fit the couch somewhere.

They were so focused that they did it all in silence, only exchanging short phrases like ‘to your left, a couple of centimetres,’ and ‘hold that corner while I fix the rug’. But, after two hours of effort, the girls sat back to assess the damage and have a tea break.

“You know,” started Este. “Maybe this big project you're up for will earn you some extra cash and we can afford to get a new coffee table, too. That's really the issue here, honestly. It's awkward and bulky. We need a cute and dainty ovular one, or something, maybe the couch will fit then,” she suggested.

The red-haired girl raised her eyebrows. “You’ve found the culprit, babe. That coffee table needs to go.” Cate confirmed. “Might be a while for that merch collection to pay out, though. We haven’t even started it yet. Think we can survive with this gargantuan thing until September?”

“I guess we’ll have to.”

After they chose to ignore the furniture situation for the night, Este started bringing ingredients out of the cupboards to make herself dinner. She plonked a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs plonked onto the counter, with Cate watching in amusement.

“Eggs? At 7:30pm?” Cate asked judgmentally.

“Listen, breakfast for dinner is normal for me. You should know this by now.” Este shrugged and flicked on their gas stove to start satisfying her hunger. “You ate already—and without me, so this is actually none of your business,” she said.

A dash of oil was drizzled into the pan and Este stepped back to wait for it to heat up.

“Still think it’s weird.”

Este rolled her eyes. “You can quit judging me and divert that energy to being on AUX, if you don't mind. Been in a drought lately, just listening to the same stuff over and over,” Este suggested, getting most of her music recommendations from roommate’s much more eclectic taste. She handed over their JBL speaker that was sitting on the island, prompting Cate to pair her phone and fill the silence.

“I could say the exact same! What’s with the month of May? I’ve come across literally nothing new, or even remotely good,” she complained. “But hey, I think it’s Annie Mac time on Radio 1 right now. Maybe I’ll stick that on and she’ll give us some hope.”

Este flipped over her egg with a spatula and then pointed it at Cate, approving her good idea. “I trust that woman with my life, Cate. You know I’d never say no to my girl Annie,” she gushed.

Cate laughed and put on the radio, the two falling into conversation about nothing in particular as Annie Mac spouted on about her hottest record of May.

“The whole song seems to be about you looking back, and the observations of growing older, and what you’re learning—and the lessons learned.”

“That’s true.”

“So, we’ve just confirmed that you are obsessed with growing older.”

“I’m obsessed with—I mean—it’s not about me growing older, because I mean Annie, look at my face. I look alright.”

“Babe, you look like you’re about 22!”

“Right, you heard it here first. Matt Healy looks 22, that’s the headline I want to see!”

Cate walked back over to the couch and collapsed onto it, tired from the whole debacle. It made no sense in their living room, but damn, was it comfortable. She closed her eyes and basked in the fluffiness of the brand new cushion, eventually hearing a song start. Its piercing guitar riff cut into her brain and she found herself cringing at how exposed it was; but the fast beat of the song intrigued her. It felt so in-your-face, that laying down (fully relaxed with her eyes shut) felt like the complete wrong way to take it in.

She stood up suddenly and looked over at Este, who was deep in thought. Cate snapped her out of it, and said, “This song makes me feel like I have tachycardia.”

Her roommate looked up at her, now out of her trance, and laughed out loud at her best friend’s reference to the condition where your heart beats too fast. “You’re so right,” she agreed, sliding her fully cooked eggs onto the couple of slices of toast. Este couldn't help but nod her head with the rhythm.

“Tachycardia, like, in a good way, though.” Cate complimented.

It continued to the chorus and as it spewed optimistic lyrics, Este and Cate caught each other's eyes again. The line, “Won’t you give yourself a try?” repeated over and over, and in unison, they began dancing like maniacs.

2 >>

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy fic #the 1975 #tbsg #Spotify

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ihearasound · 3 months

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got tagged by @paladincecil!! thank you for the tag :D

Last song listened to: 僕が死のうと思ったのは (the reason I thought I'd die) by amazarashi

Currently reading: Just finished reading the Myth of Sisyphus by Camus last night! I did skip the extra chapter on Kafkas works, so I'll be doing that today probably still. I'm also catching up with Usuzumi no hate and rereading Futari Escape anew! I followed Futari Escape along when I was still reading comic yuri hime actively, but it got a pretty release in germany so that's how I'll be reading it now.

Currently watching: Watching BF play Stranger of Paradise on the side and generally watching Dungeon Meshi as it releases. I want more NOW ;_;

Currently obsessed with: Been really into playing Dredge lately!! It's super fun. Also been once again trying to do quick colored art pieces, which is as always insanely fun

Tagging (with no obligation): @houkagokappa @naul-lidge @crearuru @ooceriseoo @bernkastel-ao3 UHH are the first that come to mind, if I forgot you please feel free to do this too. It's fun :)

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awearywritersworld · 2 months

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Hi! I read your Frankenstein piece before and didn't find out until now that it's part of a series until I dug my likes and found it again just to get that vibe your writing elicits in me. And here we are. I absolutely love how you write, the literature behind it, everything. I'm so in love with the idea of this gruff but sweet Sukuna. So, thank you.

But can I tell you something? Indulge this anon, would you?

When I read the Camus part and the aftermath of the "grocery incident" (didn't wanna put spoilers here), a part of my past I thought long closed and over now come back to the surface and rip me open. I found myself contemplating it for quite a while since I happened upon your story. Maybe I'm delusional, but you've pretty much written how that one moment in my life unfolded as if you were there to see it all. Just without the giggling parts.

This complicated person once became a part of my life. I am in no way romanticizing being involved with someone so terrible in their ways because of their background, but there's just something so riveting about them when they deviate from their usual ways just for you because they're terrified of what it could do to you. Makes you feel kinda special in a way despite the obvious consequences. Such was our bond. I married that man because, like your character, seeing him for what he truly was and everything that he's capable of, I thought it changes nothing between us. Well, used to be married. Didn't, COULDN'T work out.

In light of that, I'm so excited to see how it would turn out for your character and Sukuna. I had been wrong believing that (well, mine was no Sukuna, I guess haha) but I hope your character isn't.

No problem if that's not the direction you're taking of course, and I'll still love, LOVE your story regardless. Thank you because I finally got the chance to really think about that part of me in an objective way without crumbling every time I try to come to terms with it. And sorry for the long read.

I'll go read your other pieces, too. I wish you a great day and may your heart's wishes come true. 🤗

i can't thank you enough for your willingness to share your story with me. it's rewarding to know that my writing has touched you so deeply, and honestly, i feel undeserving. you have my gratitude nonetheless. please never apologize for sharing something so significant. i admire you for doing so<3

i'm sorry that your marriage didn't turn out the way you thought it would. you deserve someone who extends kindness to everyone, and who regards you with warmth and softness.

thank you again for your kind words and your time, both in reading my work and sharing your thoughts on it. i wish you healing, growth, and happiness. have the best night, dear anon<3

#m!answers

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catchingbigfish · 1 year

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find the word tag!

thank you, @dotr-rose-love! my words are fly, suggest, perfect, and book! i'm tagging @words-after-midnight, @thecatsgrave, @charlesjosephwrites, and @ls-daydreams! (as always, no pressure, and anyone who would prefer not to be tagged can always let me know if i mess up!) your words are dare, rule, crisis, star, and surround!

i'm pulling from so it goes again! quick reminder the story deals very explicitly with death, pregnancy, and birth; the snippets today very explicitly reference death (book) and there's a mention a pregnant body (perfect).

fly

“Did you ever have to read Camus in school?” she asked. “What? No. Absolutely not.” “Your loss,” she said, sticking the tip of her tongue out, lost in thought. “Do you know anything about him?” Isaiah shook his head. “When do you think I snuck off to read Camus?” “He said Sisyphus was happy,” she said. “Or we must think Sisyphus is happy.” She looked up to the ceiling, trying to remember. “We must imagine Sisyphus is happy because he has a purpose.” Isaiah looked dismayed. “I think I’m good,” he said slowly. He wandered around the stack he was at to join her. She squatted on her heels and looked up at him. “How about Madame Butterfly? Weren’t you in theatre?”

suggest

Instead of jumping straight into speaking, Marisa blew out air and put her finger to her lip. Finally, she said, “That’s the problem. I don’t know.” Ali continued staring at her, still chewing. “It’s a really good offer,” she relented. “Good pay, good benefits. It seems empty. It feels, like, I don’t know. Like I’ll move out there and wither away in the suburbs, creating some bullshit, hollow life based on what my coworkers suggest I do, and wind up unhappy.” She took a page out of Ali’s book and began creating a huge bite of food, hoping Ali would feel pressured to fill the silence. She wasn’t. She had finished chewing, but she kept her gaze steady on Marisa’s face. She continued to wait, and when it became obvious Marisa wasn’t going to open her mouth, she sighed.

perfect

“I want a healthy baby,” the woman told Marisa at their first appointment. She had invited Marisa to her apartment, a nice loft in the city’s center, but quite loud for an infant. There were soundproofing decorations already dotting the baby’s nursery, which was done up like it was in the sky: the decor on the walls mostly looked like clouds, which was probably the best soundproofing decor Marisa had encountered. The floor was covered in a plush blue rug, ceiling and walls painted the same shade. They sat in the nursery while discussing the woman’s plans. The one window in the room cast beautiful, golden sunlight on the wall across from it. It was east-facing, which meant a gentle and natural wake-up. The woman was dressed in yoga clothes with a perfect, protruding pregnant belly already resting on her lap and her washed out blonde hair in a top knot. Sitting on the exercise ball across from Marisa, she looked like a mom already even though this was to be her first.

book

“I’ve met you so many times,” Death said. “I’ve been there for you so often. Haven’t you begged me to come?” She walked to the window and put her bony hand on the windowsill, turned at a an angle, looking out into the dark. “I was only coming to give you what you’ve been asking for.” Marisa felt her legs begin to twitch, not moving enough, but she urged her body to wake up, to flee. Death turned to the empty desk and began rifling through it, hands landing on a notebook, a piece of paper, and a pen. She turned and walked back to Marisa. She laid the paper on the book, and the book on the bed in front of Marisa. Death walked back to the window, sitting on the windowsill, bony leg crossed over fleshy leg. Marisa looked down and saw the pen in her hand.

#tag game #elle's #thanks again for the tag!!#wip: so it goes

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hijirikaww · 1 year

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Ooooh now you're *really* onto something there (you have a really nice way with words btw??) - myu's ice + masa's water + kira's dark energy = the coolest combo!!! They'd have such an elegant mysterious vibe to them....I SO want to see this now!! Aww you're right and I *so* want to see them having a tea party, bless (just don't tell natsuki okay?)

THE HORSEBACK AND THE SWORDS THOUGH?? Absolute peak, your brain is 👌👌 magnificent. Going back a bit here but the way I Need to see Camus doing Hwa's wonderland symphony part....the grand sword gestures......it was made for him 😭

With how much Camus suffers around quartet night, I think he'd appreciate the moment of peace Masato & Kira could offer 😂

On a different tangent here: do you think Sannie & Cecil would get along? Since San loves cats and he's basically an irl cat too.....him & Cecil = same wavelength maybe? 😆

Okay but you're so right, it's impossible to bias one member of the demon line & not stan the rest too!! Sanhwa are especially powerful when they're together 😵‍💫 Ateez as a whole are incredible performers, I'm actually a stay but Ateez quickly became my second ults, I couldnt resist them 😭 Do you stan other groups btw? 👀

I'm sorry but I actually don't know that video 😭 but I'll look for it!!!! But gosh, hwa in a wig.....I'm immediately thinking like, do you know when lee know from stray kids wore the long wig? I'm seeing the vision here....hwa with long blonde hair please we need it 😭😭 can you imagine him doing a dramatic hair flip??

The way I saw mamma and instantly thought you were talking about hwa (the mom vibes y'know??) 😂 I love your thoughts please keep them coming 👌✨✨

Okay ahem so AAAAAA while reading this ask I went through so many emotions and became so happy ok?? I need a minute to gather myself back together lol.

Firstly thank you so much for the compliment - this is literally the unfiltered flow of my brain through a keyboard sksjdjsjs but most importantly, I really LOVE rambling with you about this!! Thank YOU for that!!

Dear Broccoli, when do we get this trio plz?

And god forbid Natsuki finds the tea party (something tells me his natural chaos would manage to do it somehow)!!! He would literally crash it with happiness and enthusiasm and sparkles and rainbows and honestly? Chances are he had just been carrying a batch of self-baked cookies that he just HAS TO SHARE.... let's just say they switch locations after that event, and remain ever vigilant..

Literally the next week Natsuki would have probably appeared again this time with an entire angry-cat-Syo to join the party.

Actually, something tells me Kira would develop a Natsuki sensor. Like, without a word he would get up and walk off to like a back room and leave Masa and Myu (gotta rant about this in a sec hold up) in their confusion before they look out the window and see Natsuki round a corner 5 seconds later and just KNOW he KNOWS. From then on they use the Kira detector as a safety feature, it is very reliable :)

SO MYU. I FORGOT ABOUT THAT NICKNAME, *THANK YOU FOR BRINGING IT BACK TO MY ATTENTION*!!!

Like I love Moose passionately, but Myu is so endearing!!! 🥺 precious ice prince mode activated 💙

Ps.. I love how tall he is??? People do not appreciate that enough about this man me thinks. What are your thoughts on that matter?

//I love how every one of these gets longer than the last lol this is so wonderful ~♡

Okay so... I HATE how on point you are about San and Cecil. This should not be allowed. Omg. They would seriously be great buds. They would tune into each other's unique aloofness and work so well. I feel like they wouldn't like, be joined at the hip (like Woo likes to do hahaha) but - much like a real cat-human relationship - be super happy and close with each other when they see each other every so often? Like they are comfortable with the little breaks in between but whenever they are spending time together they are the bestest of buds.

.....

Sanhwa is the absolute BEST.

That is all I've got on that. No words needed. Amazeballs. Mind blowing. Holy floof.

.....

I THINK I remember seeing LK in a wig?.. Not entirely certain if my mind maybe made it up though. Was it Halloween costume related by any chance? Bet he looked stunning. Is he your bias in Skz? Owo

I am soooorrt of a multi stan?? Like I really stan ATEEZ way above all, I don't super follow other groups with every single release etc. But I do know a lot of other groups and listen to soooooooooo many different groups I can't keep track :)

Skz is perhaps the group I know the second best?????? Me thinks?? Might be shared with Enhypen. Anyway, 3racha is the bomb. They are all super talented and badass too. My wholehearted approval. The other day I actually learned the 143 challenge!!! It is so fun to do!! :D

Anyways, speaking of boys in wigs, boys with LONG HAIR THO. I sure love those ;)

.. Camus totally gets that right 👌🏻💯🌠

Even mullets! It is really unbelievable just how fabulous boys can be :)

Btw this is the video I was talking about! Very funny and worth watching haha~

I 100% approve of the mom Hwa vibes because really? Does it get any more wholesome than that? He is a blessing to this world seriously. So sweet, so caring and kind :)

Speaking of all these mammas, made me think of Mama - like the show each year - BOY DID YOU SEE THEM KILLING IT WITH THOSE STAGES!?!?!?! THE SECOND YEAR!?!? HWAS OUTFIT???? (EVERYONE'S OUTFIT?!?!?!?!?)

Omg. Like, they sure let out the demons in that one. Beautiful work of art that stage is from front to back, I'm still so blown away by it.

SINCE I CAN MAKE THIS POST EVEN LONGER:

Did you follow Kingdom???? Skz and TEEZ slayed so hard. Tbh all groups did tho. Amazing content. Blown away.

Special mentions go to WOLF cover with their mixed members (and Peniel slaying) was so good. Can still not believe there is such awesome content out there just like that.

Hope your day is going well, you sure are improving mine! Sending happiness your way! ~☆

#ask!#loooong ass post #should probably add a read more hold up #yayy #strawberry-ren #Emmy babbles #uwu #happy inbox noises #happy Emmy times #how do you add read more on mobile again #I remember going through this struggle before :(#sorry yall #edit: HUZZAH

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musicallisto · 2 years

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7, 11, 16??

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

already answered here for Spanish, but to summarize: alba (dawn), tétrico (sullen, gloomy, dismal), ahorcado (hanged man (lit.), heavily burdened). also that thing poets do when they feminize the sea (el mar becomes la mar just for the hell of it). and every word that comes from Arabic is super cool too. and swear words of course <3

as for French, aurore (dawn), asphyxier (I promise I'm doing good mentally assjqbjsj), retrouvailles (the joy that comes with a long overdue reunion). there's a shit ton more but I can't think of them rn, I'd have to scour my writing for words I unconsciously use more than others!

11. favorite native author/poet?

already answered here, but to make it short (and god knows I need to make it short for French, lol, I Have Thoughts about classic French literature): Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Victor Hugo, and Albert Camus for French; and I don't read nearly enough Spanish literature but Federico García Lorca & Antonio Machado are always a safe bet (as is the entire 98 generation); also Joaquin Sabina and Víctor Manuel for more contemporary singer-songwriters/poets. if I can leave the realm of Spain and expand to Latin America, then Gabriel García Márquez is a legend.

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

for France: it's not so much a stereotype and more the way foreigners look at France, but the way it's so romanticized, especially Paris. media like Emily in Paris, aside from being borderline offensive with how monstrously cringe it is, really highlights how foreigners and tourists think of Paris/France as an amusement park for their own consumption, with little to no regard for the actual people living there. I can't open Instagram without seeing an aesthetic reel of some girl walking around Montmartre like she's the ~main character~ and thousands of people in the comments foaming at the mouth at the place and like. yes! Paris is beautiful! I'm so happy people love my hometown and want to live their main character moment there! but sometimes people lowkey forget Paris, or the French Riviera, are not Universal Studios. I wish they'd dig deeper beneath the surface of the light academia rich, thin, white Parisienne aesthetic. which leads me to the stereotype I do agree with: we (Parisians) are ruder and disagreeable than most Europeans, and we (French) complain and grouse a lot. about everything. we're generally in a bad mood compared to Americans' chipper attitude. sometimes I wish we were more like that, or more like the South. more relaxed and welcoming.

for Spain: once again it's more the perception of Spain as a whole by foreigners (especially Northern Europeans) but I really do hate how Spain is reduced to like, Benidorm, Marbella, and Ibiza, and seen as, once again, this enormous amusement park of sun and beaches and cheap alcohol and nightclubs. people associate Spain with doing nothing and getting wasted, when it's one of the most diverse (culturally, geographically...) countries in Europe. at least we get to make fun of Brits when they break a leg doing balconing. and a stereotype that I agree with is that we are, indeed, more relaxed than the rest. Even in Madrid, honestly! like you'll see stores closing at random hours because it's la hora de la siesta, people are more prone to talking to strangers (on public transportation!!!!! what the fuck!!!!!), and yes we are extremely fucking loud.

#lindsay 👑#thank you for asking! <3 #.es #.fr #spain #france #long post

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kafkaoftherubble · 4 months

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年与年之间恍惚的阈限：末夜•旭日•无常

Part of this is cobbled from entries written on Paradehyde, 31st December 2023 at 10.38 p.m., and January 1st, 2024, both shortly after 12 am and 5.18 pm.

We haven't laid out our resolutions for this year. It should be done by this week.

Last year's Lyndises didn't make any resolution; we still didn't feel like the future would include us back then. The Knocking Lady didn't succeed in making any of us do what she really wanted, but she didn't really lose either. The future was tenebrous. Ungraspable. Packed with everyone else except us. There seemed to be no spot for us in the future; the future had overlooked us, we thought. It's like people; no matter how much I'm allowed to be around them, there will come a moment when I cease fulfilling their conditions, and they will leave, or I will fade away from them. It's not even out of malice. It just happens.

It's impermanence. Both the Lyndises and Fionn in the early days of the year already understood this. Hell, we understood this since we were kids. Impermanence. It's as natural as the sun rising and setting.

The year got better. My predecessors were really something. It wasn't really a mistaken boast when one of them declared, almost bitterly, "We always recover without help. We just do."

Though, it would be remiss of us to ignore the one who strived the hardest. "Without help" was a misnomer—this statement is only true if we treat Fionn as do the world out there does: as a non-person delusional existence attached to a person.

---

Last year's New Year Quote, according to Paradehyde, was Albert Camus' "One must imagine Sisyphus happy."

Last year's Word of the Year according to Lyndis of A Few Weeks Ago, was "interdependence." Because "dependent co-arising" was two words; it didn't fit the bill.

The Lyn at the Beginning of 2023 thought this would be "The Year of the White-Haired Boy." She meant Fionn, but the funny thing was that it turned out to be Gojo Satoru who hijacked that narrative. I didn't even realize I liked Satoru this much until that infamous Chapter 236. I could have gone on never knowing. And then he just took up my thoughts. And then I, supposed Dedicated Essayist for To Your Eternity, wrote essays on Jujutsu Kaisen. On Gojo Satoru, who already has a surplus of meta essays and whatnot.

Damn it.

I think another "Totally Trivial and Useless Realization" comparable to this Satoru shit is—okay, don't laugh—that we really, really, really... No wait, I said don't laugh, assholes! Don't laugh!

We really think, I mean, hypothetically... Like if a certain very famous Siddhartha was alive in our times, he might just be a cognitive scientist too. It seems so up his alley. I mean, yea whatever, he could totally become a philosopher and a teacher or something. But cognitive science, man. Come on. Makes too much sense when you really read what he said and thought about.

And I think—as in, I share the same sentiment as that unfortunate Lyndis who realized this while rambling about things with Lyishere—that if he were to be alive at this time, and I somehow got to know him personally... I think I'll like him a lot. I think I'll wanna befriend him and annoy the shit out of him and think about stuff with him and break his arguments apart if I don't think it holds. I would like to watch him all the way to his Awakening. I would like to study him. He would be very interesting to study—

"BRUH DID YOU JUST say your perfect partner is the Buddha?! HOLY SHIT, this is inSANE. OH MY GOD NEVER SAY MY STANDARDS ARE HIGH EVER AGAIN. LIKE MINE IS HIGH BUT NOT THE BUDDHA like bro ATEEZ MOUNTAIN MAN HIMBO CORE WITH OPPENHEIMER IQ IS ACTUALLY MORE NORMAL THAN THIS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK"

Yea. I don't think anyone else needs to know about this. Let's just keep it between us, and Lyi, yea?

Fionn? Nah. He's more like Ananda than Siddhartha. Doesn't stop him from being someone I care about the most in this entire world, though.

---

I really like the days between the years. "Zwischen den Jahren" or something. It's its own liminal space, you know. And we are drawn to liminal spaces like that. It feels like where we seem to belong.

The thing about these days is that it makes for the best time to observe anicca! You watch the days between Christmas and New Year crawl toward finality. If it has been a bad year, it's ending. If it has been a good year, it's ending. If it has been a neutral year, it's ending. Everything ends. Nothing lasts.

And then, at one point, I suddenly felt quite... scared!

2023 started out not too impressive, but it progressively got better. In fact, it ended up being a huge step up from even the years before it. It was really the most bliss we had for a while.

And then, when 2024 came, I suddenly thought—well, who says it's gonna keep getting better? Who says it's gonna plateau in this comfortable stability, either? Everything is impermanent. Good times are impermanent too. Whatever peace I'm feeling right now—it's impermanent. It won't last forever. Something could come and yank it away from me.

And that, Lyndis of the Future, was me forgetting what anicca really means. As eventful or as storied as a moment may be, it will die. As packed with the strongest sentiments we could possibly experience or label—joy or stress or pleasure or pain or rapture or despair—no matter how royally this moment struts on a stage right now... it will drop dead and become history. Being momentous changes nothing. Being nondescript changes nothing.

So, of course the 8-foot Tall Woman jeered at me. I was scared of losing these good days because I grew attached to something impermanent in the first place. She would laugh at Fionn, too, because he tends to grasp on good moments and mope if something he likes is ending—for example, the end of a pleasurable trip would really make him brood.

It's kinda annoying cause' we often are aware of our attachments—that means we are knowingly being dissatisfied/suffering/distressed. Knowingly! It's like already knowing you're gonna hate this game, and you still buy it and play it. It's different from not knowing you'd hate this game and buying it and playing it, ya know.

"There's no fear for one whose mind is not filled with desires," said The Guy We Could Have Been Very Close Friends With Me. Well, we're certainly not without desires, that's for sure.

---

Fionn told me while we were lying on the floor listening to fireworks that though he was still thinking over his resolutions, there was one thing he wanted to continue pursuing: equanimity.

Well, I'm afraid you ain't getting that if you and I can't solve the attachment-to-impermanence problem, man.

The thing, guys, is that his resolutions are our resolutions. It's not a separate enterprise he undertakes on his own while I can undertake my efforts on my own. We are dependently co-arisen. He cannot get to where he wants if we don't help. It's the same in the world outside, between persons despite their supposed independence as human beings. One person cannot succeed without the backing of their closest, immediate environment; that includes the people in their lives.

So his wanting to pursue equanimity means we have to be resolute in that, too. What a drag.

The bigger drag is how, even though we started understanding anicca at a young age, we still grasp. I honestly don't think we have that many excuses.

You can forgive someone who didn't know much about this philosophy for being distressed over their attachments, but we already knew this and verified this through our own experience, over and over, at a young age.

You can forgive Past Lyndises for falling short because they were young, brain-not-matured-yet, inexperienced, and trying hard to survive, yadda-yadda. But I? I have no excuses. I am in a better position than my predecessor in January 2023 already. I am heir to the sum of their knowledge, experience, and thoughts. I honestly have no excuses.

I actually kinda like that. The fact that I have no excuses, I mean. To even arrive at this stage, where I'm living in such an optimal state as to have no excuses, means all of the previous Lyns have been skillful. They had, despite their circumstances, acted skillfully enough that now I am reaping the benefits! Isn't that swell? They planted causes that allow me good effects. Kamma done well, y'all. That's affirming shit right there!

I wouldn't want to let my Future Lyns down.

I wouldn't want to let Fionn down.

---

Emotions like anger and anxiety aren't permanent. I mean, they always seem permanent when they are happening, but that's an illusion. They cease on their own, ya know.

The reason why they don't cease, one of Past Us realized, is because you consciously or unconsciously extend them beyond their longevity.

Think of them as a flame on a candle. Before the flame dies out—which it will on its own—you keep lighting new candles with this flame. So the original candle of anxiety is dead, and yet new ones continue its existence... similar to a rebirth. You keep lighting new candles each time the old one is on its way out.

So this emotion is sustained. It looks like a blazing field, but if you look closely, it's really a sea of candles. And if you are heedful enough to refrain from lighting new candles, then you'll see even the strongest emotion die on its own course. That's just impermanence doing its work.

I wonder if this is, oddly enough, one solution for the impermanence of... well, bliss? Joy? What was that phrase again? Dittha-dhamma-sukha-vihara? Abiding in ease, here and now?

Anyway, lighting up candles with the flame of Ease before it die would mean sustaining Ease beyond its expiry date, right?

But Fionn raised a good point: I have to be really heedful of what candle to light, because if I accidentally light the ones of passion and excess joy, then I'll be stuck in a frenzy of lighting them forever before the flames run out.

It's got to do with dopamine. The pain in the death of "Good Times" is really the effect of lowered dopamine levels. The stronger the reduction, the stronger the crash. And dopamine acclimates itself to prolonged rewards and sets it as its new normal; it's how a brain functions. Something great will become merely good over time.

If I light the wrong candles, then I will lock myself into a constant fear of the flames blowing off, i.e. the crash of dopamine. The candles of passion are always getting shorter and shorter as dopamine acclimates itself to rewards, so I'll have to scramble to find more and more "arousing" (longer) candles to light. But that raises the "normal" dopamine level to even greater heights, making its crash even more terrifying and painful should it happen. I will only be even more scared.

Do you see what Fionn and I are seeing? We'll be enslaved by this fear. I'll be doomed to this Sisyphean work of lighting candles and stressing over when the crash is coming. It will be worse than Sisyphus's Rock-Rolling, because the slope keeps getting steeper, the rock larger, and the summit taller.

Sooner or later, not even the candles themselves will become joy. They will just morph into anxieties as if fucking Mahito had touched them and Mui Tenpen the shit out of them.

That's so unskillful! 嫌だ！

----

Which comes back to the question: what are we supposed to do?

Well... "What are we really trying to achieve" is a good question, I suppose:

Are we trying to extend a feeling of joy, or the longevity of "good things," beyond its expiry?

Or are we trying not to fear the impermanence of good things?

Which is it?

The more skillful goal seems to be the second one, methinks. The first is just good old "attachment" cosplaying as noble intent. Besides, the second goal is related to equanimity itself.

Oh, this is great! A good question to ponder during meditation! It will get us a tad bit closer to Fionn's resolution! Yes, this is a good start!

#a piece to the rubble

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