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#dead luck

ah, these uncertain and scary times call for small - often lonesome - celebrations in the confines of our homes. 

yet, frankly, there is no other holiday more fitting for this that dziady-zaduszki! after all, when you celebrate and remember all your beloved dead, you are inviting them to join you at your own table, in the safety of the mortal home. and while celebrating with others can be thrilling, going through this experience on your own is very intimate and profound.

space! a very important part would be dedicating a special space where offerings will be put and food will be shared. this space should be prepared and decorated depending on the type and reach of your ancestral veneration - that is, whom exactly are you including and to what extent - so that it might feel not only celebratory, but also familiar.

photos or personal items; things that remind you of your dead or that symbolise them (should your reach be less personal and crystallised but more abstract); decorations that seem appropriate for the occasion and decorum. clean cloth, clean dishes. ideally, an altar-like space or a table - but given the limitations of our apartments and conditions, any small and neat space will do. just make sure your ancestors don’t feel like mice or dolls in a dollhouse.

then, offerings! should you decide to go with material offerings, let it be something significant and meaningful to you - and to them. it does not have to be anything grand, and self-made items work best. a drawing, paper-cut, jewellery, bouquet, whatever it is that comes to mind. I like to add a bouquet of fall leaves, too. however, the easiest and most suitable offerings, I believe, for this feast are those you can eat. as one does…during a feast.

food that you prepare yourself is best - even better if you’ve grown or obtained some of the ingredients yourself as well. walnuts or apples or mushroom, or simply herbs - either as ingredients or standalone. if you live in the middle of the city and hardly have a chance to find something, just make sure you are putting adequate effort and heart into the preparation of the meal. baking something small is good, but so is cooking or brewing. bread, groats, salt, nuts, honey, alcohol, eggs, brewed tea or coffee, sweets, what have you. you know your dead - at least to some extent. 

and at last, calling and greeting. the afterlife seems to be a busy place - we should not assume our dead are patiently on the lookout for the celebration. let them know that the time has come to rejoice together by the table. open your window just slightly, crack open your door, let them through. light a candle on the windowsill to light their way in, light a candle by the table to let them know you’ve prepared a spot for them. reach out to them - in song, in prayer, or just in the simplest of ordinary words. 

but most importantly, save some time only for them. share this moment with them with no distractions - let them have your attention. don’t invite noise into the space, don’t leave hastily. greet them, feast with them, thank them and ask them for their blessing - and then send them on their merry way. 

remember to say goodbye politely - but firmly. as our ancestors were stubborn in life, so they are in death - or even more so. 

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 So i normally only tell this story to close friends but its been over a decade now so i think Im safe. Here is roughly reference of the lay out of my old elementary school it was like this from what I remember of it  (Im biologically F)


 SoTo start off our elementary school was parked next to a grave yard, not directly next to the building itself, but the schools soccer field was fenced off so you couldn’t enter the grave yard.  So before this happened the school had a unsettling vibe already.

  So when i was in 3rd grade (the start to every shitty child film, much like my shitty life) I was heavily bullied because the teacher said something that sparked evil child retaliation and people started this thing where they acted like i had the plague ( back when people actually avoided that) and avoided me for the most part, except for two girls who used to hunt me down at lunch. So i became familiar with hiding in the bathroom a lot. While i was in there i noticed the hatch behind the toliet area was left open, the lock looked closed but wasn’t because the janitor was and idiot and thought kids wont pull the lock. . 

 This area was like a very narrow hallway and it had the boiler and what not in it, and a basket ball that the janitor kept in there for his lunch break (Im guessing). The stage was also connected to this hatch, and was not ever locked because well no one is normally stupid enough to go in there because the area makes a Creepy ass noise. Not me.  Now on this day one of my two bullies were partially cranky because there hell span of a friend was out sick for a few days which meant angry bully. Not fun.  But she didn’t see me go in the bathroom at the time of this happening. 

So I simply went into the last stall popped the lock off the service hatch and went inside then i got an idea. I grabbed the basket ball and rolled it out of the hatch across the floor and shut the hatch . The girl got spooked and walked out of the bath room Into the hall spooked a little. Then part be of my child sadistic brain kicked in. I used the other end of the hatch and went behind the curtain and waited for her . Se eventually after scanning the bathroom 50 times went back into the gym. As soon as I heard her coming i put my long dark hair over my face got on all goes and scurried across the stage. She screamed and ran giving me enough time to duck back i to the hatch and leave through the other side, grab the ball and chuck it back inside, and pop the lock back on loosely so it looked locked but wasn’t like i had done a million times before.  The thing about this is they had old cameras in the gym i wasn’t aware of so they got my on camera but here’s the thing. 

Black and white cameras and only set to take pics with movement every few seconds saved me from getting in shit, but made it so much worse. . So the teacher had for evidence if all this other then a crying child was a blurry shadow figure on the stage for one frame then nothing .

While i left the bathroom unnoticed because lunch came I and about ten people used the girls bath room before the adults came running down stairs to investigate. They still haven’t figured it out to this day and rumors about the bathroom\stage being haunted are still a thing till this day.  

A lot of girls used the men’s room that year and wouldn’t go down to the gym alone after that. They still don’t apparently according to my second grade teachers bitching when i bumped into her at the super market and jokingly asked. And the funniest part is, There has now been multiple sightings.  

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Cog explaining why she’s Anti-Valentine: He’s manipulative and self-centered and vile!! Every good thing he can get his fingers into he twists for his own purpose, and breaks! He wants to unite the world under one leader, and that would strip so much culture and freedom and autonomy from people!! That’s evil!! He’s evil!

Valentine’s dumb, smug ass: Ah but see……..the people I want to put in charge……..are you and your friends >:3ccccc

Cog: That doesn’t make it any fucking better you sentient piece of shit! Oh my god!!!!! Did you even listen to what I said!!! I hate you so much!!!!!

Valentine: Come on, be reasonable………if you saw a dying comrade on the battlefield and you knew there was no chance of saving them…….wouldn’t you do the kind thing and put them out of their misery? That’s what this world needs: to be put down, and rebuilt. It’s the only way to save it.

Cog, who is literally a cleric in all but name: If I saw someone hurt on the battlefield I would use my fucking MAGIC or medical supplies to heal them! What the fuck are you talking about??? This is a bad metaphor for so many reasons I don’t have time to tell you how stupid you are!!! Huff my ass!!!!!

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my grandpa’s funeral is tomorrow. I should probably be more upset about this, but I don’t really feel much at all about the fact that he died last week. even though we were fairly close and I liked him well enough. it might be a family thing, though, because neither of my sisters or my dad is very broken up about it. it was a very swift, businesslike recovery from his death that mostly involved cleaning out his room and setting up the funeral and all of that only took, like, three days. i expect the funeral to be a pretty small, quiet affair without much crying or anything. he lived a long time. most of his friends have already died. the rest aren’t the kind to make a fuss about it. oh, except my one aunt and cousin will definitely be crying heavily and saying a bunch of deep and probably false things about how close they were to my grandpa and how much they’ll miss him. they love attending funerals, and I’ve always found their grief very shallow and performative…almost insulting since I’ve seen them act this way at the funerals of people they’ve barely known…but I can’t really say anything because my own grief is usually very thin and quiet. I think I used most of it up when i was young, and there’s not much left. oh, and I also recognize that this is different from a lot of those early deaths, since most were young or died violently. in comparison, I actually feel some relief that my grandpa is dead, because he lived a long, eventful life, got to see his grandkids grow into their twenties, got to meet his great-grandkids who were born last year. didn’t have any major regrets or things he still wanted to do. and in the end, he was suffering so much and also the kind of person who told us often over the last few years that he was waiting to die and just hoped it would be fast. which it was. he spent two nights at the hospital, they put him on morphine for the pain, and he passed quickly. all in all, not a bad life or death.

#me, #death, #i feel like mourning is easiest when a person has lived a long life and is ready to die, #if everyone was lucky they would live a long life with few regrets and then die fast and easy in their old age, #so my grandpa was pretty fortunate in that regard, #grief is a lot crueler when the dead are young and died violently, #and unfortunately our family has a lot of young people who die badly, #i think it must just be bad luck, #because a lot of times it is just random violent accidents, #like getting crushed by a falling tree or falling into a river, #or getting in a motorcycle accident, #but then sometimes my relatives have also been murdered, #usually shot, #oh and my one relative was abducted along with his girlfriend and tortured to death in the national park close to our hometown..., #so there's also that kind of death, #oh and my one young cousin who accidentally died from eating rat poison that was left in the garage, #and their twin who was fatally struck by a car, #and my other young cousin who was accidentally strangled after getting tangled in something that i can't remember, #those last three were all under ten years old, #so when i mean young i mean sometimes very young, #oh and my best friend from childhood died kind of in front of me, #from a...grand maul? seizure? he was epileptic, #and that was when we were thirteen, #i remember because it was very close to my birthday, #and because my mom died that same year, #so yeah...the goal is to live to be super old and then die in a hospital on morphine...
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I was in the middle of a delightful call with @festering-queen this evening, struggling to work out a new whump sketch when I knocked my drink across my laptop, warranting a sudden shut down and “time out” for the evening to …. hopefully dry out? 

The question of “when I’d end the daily sketches” run has torn at me but is now (thankfully?) out of my hands… yesterday was the last. Here’s hoping I didn’t totally lose today’s efforts (it was so fun! like pair programming, but for a picture!) and that file I’ve been using for the whole month and have failed to back up anywhere else… hmmmm….  

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