Last Major Fan Fiction Updates :

Hi Hi Y’all!

So, I am entering massive paper and finals flood for school and will have no time for like anything most likely. McGill can be a sucky school experience. In order to make it up to you guys I am releasing an ENTIRE VOLUME 1 of Fan Fiction for Maou-sama no machizukuri!~Saikyou no danjon wa kindai toshi! That’s 26 chapters and an epilogue completed!

I ALSO prepared OG artwork by DorkMasterXtreme of the main character for my Originals Fan Fiction. It is currently just a post of rough draft pieces written for a story, but will be one of the next Fan Fictions tackled and cleaned up after my finals.

Thank You Guys For Understanding!

I.L. Knight

03NhV-rK

A Poison Tree – The Originals

Fan Fiction Updates Round 3 :

Hi HI Y’all!

Here is Day 3 of Fan Fiction updates!

Avatar : @chocjax character image !

Ko-fi Exclusive Web Novel Chapter 3

Maou -sama no Machizukuri!: Chapter 18 !

Enjoy, the updates !!!

I.L. Knight

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Top Anime Songs Everyone Should Have on Their Phones

 

Mass Fan Fiction Updates Continue :

Hi Hi Y’all

As promised, here is the next flood of updates for the fan fiction/ web novels on the site.

Harry Potter: Reformated + addition of three new character profiles -> Autumn & Mina , The Beauty & The Crow / The Story Of Dragons

Chapter 2 in the new Legend Series !

The Originals: Reformatted the messy draft to give you a proper Chapter 1

AND

Orginal artwork from the amazon @Eymbeeyo will be on that series page soon!

LASTLY

An idea for a web novel has been updated on the site: The Otherworld Crazed Witch Isn’t Crazed At All with its first Chapter!

I.L. Knight

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Wolves – Selena Gomez

 

Back Pain & Why Tattoos :

Hi Hi Y’all,

I know more and more I talk about chronic illness. It’s not meant to just be a purge, a kvetch or a notice for recognition. Lately, my flare up have just been getting worse and longer. All the advice doctors gave and the awkward hard to explain moments just seem worse. More then ever, I am just tired. So very tired…

A friend of mine is coming up to visit me in April and I am so excited to have someone see where I go to University and be an understanding friend. I had been debating when ( and more importantly) where to get a back tattoo I have always wanted.

When I was a kid I was obsessed with Yakuza movies, samurai movies and ronin movies. I loved the traditional colorful tattoos on them and the values that seemed to come with them. As I got older, learned more about what it meant and how it was perceived I didn’t want such a large piece anymore. For awhile, I thought about abandoning the idea completely.

Then I got my diagnosis and I started to reconsider. What eventually solidified the desire to get the tattoo was this increasing problems. My drugs are increasing and surgeries that seemed far off seem sooner and sooner. More and more I feel like I am missing out and that I’ll miss out on things even more in the future. Weighed down by everything around me and having it all be unseen is taking a bigger toll on me. I can do less then I used to at the moment and no one really sees it or understands it. More and more I have to come to terms with being seen by the average person as a ‘disappointment’.

It’s these things that make me stop caring about some of the things I used to. If I feel like life is short and changing so much for me I have to at least do the things I enjoy? A giant back tattoo or some crazy visual representation of all my problems probably won’t do much for me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t stick to aesthetic and feel as if I did something to show it.

My back has two curves and a tiny hump on my neck. At the top of my spine there are signs of bones thinning and possibly going to fade away. As you got to the bottom of my spine fusing has started, my hips are out of place and my legs are now two different lengths. None of this can be seen or understood unless I give up and say I want to walk around like Quasimodo so people notice me. That is always going to be the reality of my back. Anything from now on won’t be seen.

I like small minuscule and thin lined tattoos. Normally, I don’t want color and just want simple black. I’ve known since I was small I would want tattoos that represented ideas that meant a lot to me in life. Knowing this it isn’t hard for me to know what sort of tattoo I’d get on my back.

At the top of my neck, I would want in thin black lines Vegvisir. Vegvisir is one of the most popular Nordic charms. It wishes for the person to never lose their way in storm and bad weather even if the path is unknown. I don’t think there is anything more symbolic of everything going on then that. However, there is one more reason. My great grandma’s mother was a Swedish Orphan. She had come to the U.K. and met a Spanish Jew. They married and moved to the U.S. Apparently, unlike her husband and the efforts she put into now being Jewish and raising Jewish kids she never gave up her belief system. She was very very very Christian. I’m talking crosses and bloody Jesus pictures everywhere sort of Christian. Yet, there was one thing that my great grandma remembered seeing even when she didn’t know the name of it until I told her: Vegvisir. In a legacy where only food and some old myths managed to be passed down, my great grandma could vaguely in her dying times remember seeing Vegvisir as a child. Now how could I argue with that? Jewish or not, my great grandma read me Nordic myths as I was growing up, joked how if it was true Odin was 100% cooler than Zeus, and how we were meant to be tough because it was just in our blood. I’m traveling rough waters right now and maybe that means it isn’t just about being Jewish, but remembering all beliefs that helped create me.

Underneath Vegvisir is the real highlight though. Running in small thin lines will be the I Ching and its 64 changes. For a person of my aesthetic and weirdness (and love for Asian culture) what is better then 64 line patterns each symbolizing a different part of early understanding and divination? Nothing. Seriously, nothing at all. My life is certainly one of change and phases, of fortunes and dis-fortunes, and of joy and sadness. These line patterns will follow the crooked path my spine takes all the way to my tailbone. Maybe it will seem funny to some, but to me it’s a little part of the truth. And when these inevitable surgeries come, the scars appear on my back and the fight through new types of pain begins, I have marks of it all. Little lines that exist as part of scars and as part of the journey.

Going through all of this has taught me that living behind a mask is no longer something I’ll really be good at again. My body demands of me the truth. It demands that I grow past the angry cynical jaded girl I was when I was young and try to find the joy of life. It tells me that it will not tolerate lies and will only tolerate truth.

Don’t I have to do it then?

I.L. Knight

P.S. Odin really is way better. Norse > Greek everyday <3

Vegvisir

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I Ching

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Pagan Folk Music – Vegvisir

A Change Of View On Drugs :

Hi Hi Y’all,

I wanted to take a moment to mention something a bit serious again. I have someone I know in University who just came out as going to a counseling session for drug use. Now, just because I go to a top notch university like McGill doesn’t mean the people who attend it are robots immune to the problems. I had known of this person as someone who was pretty straight laced A type student back in their first year of University. Thinking of this person as someone who was going to sessions about a drug problem was shocking to me. They always had it together. They said it started with taking ritalin to stay up and study for exams. From there it went to sleeping pills to then fall asleep and then to other drugs for fun or other things. I’m not going to talk about their story past this. It is their journey and story. However, I am going to talk about the issue as a whole, because my attitude towards it has changed a lot over the years.

I mention it all the time, but I am from a conservative family. Growing up, my family wasn’t big on medication. If you really felt like you needed something just take Tylenol would be enough to tide over the problem. This led me to have two different reactions to the idea of drugs as a child. The first was I thought that people who relied on them or took them were weak and sort of pathetic. The second was me wishing I could take them. Sometimes, as a kid I would try to exaggerate the problem I was having in hopes of care or recognition. I would be sent to school with fevers or colds without a second thought. Part of me felt like if they gave me medicine it would be the same as recognition of it. However, this part was buried down because people who used drugs were weak. I was not expected to be weak. I was the kid everyone pinned their hopes on and had to succeed.

I kept this up for many years. It was a problem I could push away and not have to deal with. Then in high school I started feeling on well more. More people I knew were starting to use drugs for either medicinal purposes or recreational ones. The line between drug use and an individual seemed to get grayer. The idea of a lot of family problems occurring because no one in my family wanted to be responsible and take the medication they should be on became clearer. Still, I pushed this problem away as much as I could.

However, once again in University I was forced to confront this. I had gotten sick. I had entered into a world of chronic pain. No matter how much pain I was in I would actually tell some of my doctors I refused to take certain medications. My own mother had started getting sick about a year before me and was now taking from my family’s point of view lots of medication. Specifically, she seemed reliant on pain medication. The idea of being like that scared me more then it conflicted with my views. What if I started taking pain medication, became reliant on it, dealt with horrible side effects and allowed myself to be weak. I couldn’t allow that, so for three years I avoided some medication I should of been on and only took stronger versions of anti-inflammatory. However, there comes a time where you have to admit that isn’t enough.

When that time came for me I was scared. My fear of failure and all my other problems seemed to load on top of it as if I now had to carry another boulder on my back. I can’t say I am 100% okay with it all yet. I can say that now I can make jokes about it and remind myself I am on medication I need.

However, the biggest change is when I hear about someone like this. I don’t look down on them like I used to. I guess, even if I still think they are weak, a part of me can understand how it came to be. I think I can empathize with them a bit and maybe one day I can grow past my fear of weakness.

McGill sucks,

I.L. Knight

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I Don’t Like The Drugs – Marilyn Manson

Sneak Peek: Poem From New Poetry Book – Coming Soon –

Hi Hi Y’all,

I just wanted to share one of my favorite new poems that will appear in my COMING OUT SOON poetry book, Confessions of a Teenage Poet. The book is a collection of things I’ve written in earlier school years and shows the feelings I kept hidden from a lot of people around me. I think this poem does a great job at showing the underlying feelings I had from moving to high school to university. Some of these feelings I think still are there, but buried under new fears and anxieties.

The Pink Hotel

It’s four a.m. and the crowd twitches,

Built up nerve born from youth

seeking to run free.

“Let us go for a walk.

We are paying for the view.”

A silent ride down.

I walk ahead,

Lost in thoughts,

Drowning in my twenty four hour soda.

I look ahead.

There are low scattered fountains,

Large  and tiled with Spanish flowers.

In the darkness, I see light.

So much light is reflected

In waves of eerie hues.

Another match is burnt away.

“Dammit it won’t light.”

What was it, ten matches?

All to light his first cigar.

I don’t know why he kept trying.

I continue to walk away

To a farther fountain,

Where grass is still gentle,

To collapse in dewy golf turf.

I look to see a snake, none.

The pink hotel is a tower,

Looming in the sky above me.

Endless, reaching heights

I could never reach even reach

Laying eager on my back.

Why is there no stars,

Just a black sky?

A lonely Mercury

out of reach of Venus,

light up the seemingly black oblivion.

One cares to find me,

Upset at the foolish antics of youth.

“Are you ok?”

I smile and admit his thought was right.

I had lied on a truth question.

He looked away

And soon the two others

Reappeared  with a slow burning

Rolled bark of success.

“Want to walk?”

I nodded and got up,

Running ahead of the

Shambling pack.

I was always ahead,

Never next to anyone.

Not much is seen,

But a lonely palm tree

Framing Venus’ Lone arms,

And a single fish darting

Between lighted Angel mirrors.

There is another fountain.

I jump to the highest peak

And look down at my youth.

I open my mouth to say,

“When you were Polonius is this how you felt?”

The guy holding the cigar laughs,

“Never my dear.”

I shake my head and point

at the cigar he holds far from him.

“To thine own self be true.”

They laugh and keep walking,

Remarks on wealth and status.

We were so young, so eager

To make an image of ourselves-

An image we didn’t really understand.

I walk back to the room,

Another silent ride in the elevator.

Quietly I slip inside.

I’m hungry for something new.

I’m lonely.

Why did I choose this pink hotel?

Here Ya Go,

I.L. Knight

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Adolescents – Incubus

A Hard Decision To Make :

Hi Hi Y’all…

Recently I’ve had to make a hard choice. I don’t know if it is something that would be difficult for you, but it is definitely a big step for anyone.

Not many people know this but I have been saving the little money I earned from birthdays and holidays since I was a child. I sort of kind of from a family that taught a kid what an IRA was before basic morality… Actually, I’m pretty sure we’ve never actually had the what does it mean to be a good person talk… We did have money saving, education and stock talks though. The money I had saved was divided into three areas of saving: (1) personal cash savings, (2) savings for future family use and (3) stock.

When I turned 20 I got in a huge fight with my grandfather. He was the one in charge of the money put away for me from my family. The result of our fight was him deciding to let go of control and hand it all over. At the time I was panicking, because I had no idea how to responsible for such a sum of money and for money that was for this future of mine.

Two years later and I know that I am firstly thankful that we did have those sort of conversations in my family. I had a rough plan, I knew how to buy stock, to put limits on my own account and make sure I had an account. But I have also reached a point where this money and this future it is for is now a grey area. I have to help pay for University. Working part time when I can doesn’t do as much as we would wish. I have to be able to pay for as much as I can for myself. I am now in my twenties, with a bad relationship with my family at times, with little capability of being independent and bills to pay.

I had to sell some of the stock for the first time in my life to help cover those bases. I guess to a lot of people that may sound silly of a confliction. But, respectfully, I don’t think you then understand what that means.

I had to touch on something that was a result of the one big epic talk of my childhood. I had to touch the hard work and effort to stay in a reality that I don’t even like half the time. It felt as if I had to stain something black to cover up things. And yea I know it was a proper adult decision…that’s what savings are for… but still I couldn’t help but hover over the sell option.

There was this deep pain in my chest. Like I was losing something. Like the effort I put into it no longer mattered. That’s when I remembered that I had to suddenly go from spoiled to an adult not because of my own choice, but because it was sink or swim…Which, felt even crappier.

But anyways… I sold some. I paid my bills like a responsible adult and I tell myself  I’ll get over that feeling. Because if I hadn’t known to save up all of this time the money wouldn’t of been there in the first place.

I.L. Knight

P.s. OG artwork by xSkyfishx has been updated on the Sabrina Fan Fiction. Catnip and her brother Thorn looking perfectly creepy.

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Time – Pink Floyd

 

So I Can Put This Calmly Behind Me:

Normally, I would be caught up with anxiety and hyper thinking and inability to get back on track. However, I think this time I can not fall into that trap. Instead of being emotional and sad, I want to focus on the good news today. I got offered not one, but two summer scholarships in Japan (a country that has been my #1 one desired country to visit), and I got a nice purple hair dye. I’m going to focus on that.

I’m also, instead of a long rant, be simple and direct about my complaints:

(1) I asked my mom not to call me this week about our issues, because I have a very heavy workload from school and would be already stressed and anxious. She ignored this request to ask me a heavy loaded question.

(2) It is generally inappropriate, and even worse so at the the moment, to ask your daughter if she loves you because you are her mother and if you see her as a mother from over the phone. We already have issues and need these sort of conversations mediated.

(3) Insist at the pain of your answer, when you told her truthfully out of respect. I love my mother as an individual, because of choices she has made for me. I’m no longer a child who looks at the world as simple as, “A mother is someone you love, because she is your mother.” Whether I see my mother as my mother or not that is also complicated.  My mother by definition and logic I recognize as a mom. However, emotional context is different. It’s not a good or bad thing, or grandparents influences, there is just roles that have not been fulfilled. Don’t ask for a simplification of a complicated matter, so lightly and off the cuff.

There is the summary of the phone conversation. Now I am going to let go of it tonight and focus on my work. A couple minutes of deep breathing and calming down will do the trick, because I will not get in my way tonight.

I am capable of staying calming and achieving what I want to achieve,

I.L. Knight

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Daughters – John Mayer

On Confusing Heritage : Getting Reacquainted

So seeing that Jason Momoa video also kind of reminded me of an interesting point. Jason Momoa’s step daughter Zoe Kravitz (can’t do accent for some reason) is of mixed heritage. They all are. Zoe’s mother, Lisa Bonet, comes from a Jewish mother and an African American Father. While Lenny Kravitz comes from a Jewish father and an African American mother. Jason Momoa himself is Caucasian and Hawaiian. Putting aside the obvious sub point that most people make that mixed kids are beautiful it reminded of something more personal.

You see, Zoe Kravitz admitted growing up she didn’t have connection to her African American heritage and identified as white. Now, she is interested in reconnecting with that side of her roots. Personally, I think it is a wonderful move on her part, because it is a part of who you are. But it also confuses me. Lenny Kravitz identifies as Christian when it comes to religion. I’m pretty sure Lisa Bonet identifies as spiritual, drawing from all walks of life for inspiration and understanding. But I don’t understand 100% of that decision.

People only like to admit being of Jewish descent in situational moments like this, when they aren’t religiously Jewish in some article. However, the religion of Judaism is separate from the ethnic background. It seems like although raised within the Jewish religion they gave up on their ethnic dies. As Lisa Bonet and Zoe Kravitz are technically by Orthodox standards ‘Truly of Jewish decent’ due to their matrilineal line. So why then is there this seemingly disconnect with that part of their heritage? Sure, in America the Jewish community is looked down upon by other Jewish communities for a lack of spirituality, but we do embrace our ethnic ties in some ways.

It makes me think about my own family. Where things are a little confusing, because it was some secret that wasn’t supposed to be brought up that we weren’t ‘truly of Jewish decent’ based on our religious affiliation. You see my grandmother’s heritage gets very mixed as you go back. You draw in many european and asian ethnic groups such as: Spanish, British, Swedish, German, Mediterranean, a few different Eastern European groups and my favorite the apparent Cossack Russian. I mean my grandmother was only Jewish, because her Swedish Grandmother married a Jew of Spanish/British decent. Her mother then married a Jewish man of seemingly German, Russian and Middle Eastern descent (all Jews claim the traits of their Middle Eastern ancestors sticking within them). My grandmother married my grandfather who was ‘truly Jewish’ by his Austrian and Polish descent. My mom in her rebellion married a Canadian of Scottish, British and French decent (from what I know). Yet, with all of this somehow I was still Jewish. Being Jewish was so hard core pushed on me I found little ways to reject it. I defined it only as my ethnic background, I didn’t go to hebrew school and certainly didn’t join in the community service groups. Temple was an only Yom Kippur thing, because I believed in fasting. Jewish was my ethnicity. It was the only thing I could embrace: not being white. I wasn’t like them. Now, I look back on it like I was even more stupid then people told me.

A couple of years ago, I went to Taiwan to live in a monastery to explore my growing interest in Buddhism. The experience was the best thing in my life so far when it came to becoming a person. It’s funny, the more I involved myself in the community the more I would read books on other Jews who explored Buddhism. One of my favorite authors is a woman by the name of Sylvia Boorstein. Who asserts her Jewish beliefs through Buddhist daily life practices. It was fascinating. The dots of this not connecting until someone who lived with me made an awfully racist comment about Jews. Suddenly, I was compelled to take up arms that I was a Jew and would not tolerate that. Then he pointed out that most of us aren’t ‘truly of Jewish descent’ by our own standards. And gosh dammit, why was he fucking right. Two things happened in that moment: (1) somehow I understood what Sylvia Boorstein was talking about and how I was rediscovering the Jewish religion through the lens of Buddhism and (2) I truly cared about my ethnic ties. It wasn’t just I am not white anymore, because in truth I was.

How could I miss that? I am so far from the Jewish stereotype people still ask me what I am doing for Christmas. Even liking Adam Sandler surprises people. I had to take a hard look at myself, because I lived my whole life by not being another white person. In truth, I don’t think anything I ever did up to that was about the Jewish religion. It was just my cultural upbringing. Then I remembered it wasn’t the only part of it. You see there was a trickle down effect of the smallest things that clung to my family like a desperate plea to remember. Times of Swedish dinners passed down by my great-great grandmother, stories of Norse gods and Russian fairytales, Yiddish and German in the household, and nights going to hockey games because I was Canadian. Looking back on it now I find it funny. It was like I did exactly what young Zoe Kravitz did. I embraced something because that was the environment at the time.

I truly respect her choices when it comes to exploring her heritage, but it still confuses me. It’s like a part of it seems to be overlooked. How could you do that? I mean I had to admit to myself I was a white person. I was mixed, by everyone’s standards. No one said anything about it, because I was pale. Only saying I was annoying, because I suddenly realized I want to identify as mixed. Like the right was not mine to say.

Their comments just made me place more importance in reconnecting to the heritage that was still passed down. It was a part of me that I had to now embrace and accept. I just don’t understand why in her interview with the press that never seemed to come up. Both African American and Jewish ethnic ties are her makeup. Seriously, she runs a high risk of health problems, because of us so it might be wise to know that.

Wonderful choice, but a choice that makes me feel slightly wrong and empty. It was another person not realizing that Jews are an ethnic group and Judaism is a religion. They don’t always go hand in hand. Why not think about that too? I try to now. I left my sheltered South Florida bubble. I wish more people would too, because at the end of the day it’s not about religion. It’s about recognizing who you are and accepting it as a joyful thing. Ethnic descent is a part of that.

Zoe Kravitz brings up my own confusion. Even though I know nothing about her personal journey. She could feel connected to it by all means. Yet, I am confused. If you seemingly deny it then I am just another American talking about not ethnically being American, because my great-great-great-great grandfather was Irish. I mean, ethnically no one is American except actual Native Americans. But I get the whole it’s kind of hypocritically, because we are so patriotic about our countries some times… But I don’t think I am a part of that. Parts of of these ethnic ties did survive in horribly understated cliché ways.

I am figuring out what I am separate of my religion. The food I eat, the stories I am told as a child, the music I listen to in the background, the dances I saw my family dance aren’t about religion. They are the backbones of culture itself. So while I am figuring out this confusion and watching others try to figure it out let me try to have changing opinions of others who may have similar confusion. Maybe let me have a temporary tittle of ‘mixed’ even?

Life is confusing enough now a days. Why make someone else’s life harder by being like that? I just want to figure out what it was like for my grandmother to Move from Sweden to the U.K. How did she bring British culture and Spanish culture into our lives. How did Russian stews survive, a barely spoken European language or a fondness for fermented fish and Lingon berries become an iconic part of who I am. It’s not much. It really is only a trickle down effect.

But in all the confusion I have as a person, I grasp on to it as a lifeline to a steady foundation. It is a part of me…. So Jason Momoa, the Kravitzs and anyone else out there struggling with confusion. Hold on to the confusion, because its changing viewpoints will help you grow I think. You are not one thing or two. You are just the combination of all sorts of things. And you will have a solid foundation at the end of it all.

I am still trying to find answers, but now I understand just a little bit more of myself… Thank You my dear loved ones (´・` )♡ .

I.L. Knight

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German Cradle Song

I am Building My House – Joe Crone

In The People’s Republic of China – Ella Jenkins

Accidental Racist – Brad Paisley Feat LL Cool J