Hi Hi Y’all
As promised, here is the next flood of updates for the fan fiction/ web novels on the site.
Orginal artwork from the amazon @Eymbeeyo will be on that series page soon!
Hi Hi Y’all
As promised, here is the next flood of updates for the fan fiction/ web novels on the site.
Orginal artwork from the amazon @Eymbeeyo will be on that series page soon!
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?
P.S. Odin really is way better. Norse > Greek everyday <3
Whelp, I moved houses. And this new house has been super great, it fits every box for a warm happy home that is conducive to living a new chronic life. An added bonus: it is next to the Japanese gardens in my town. It is a great place I love to just sit in silence and like find some time to myself and be around nature. It is a happy place for me in a town that has historically not been so happy for me.
AND THEY RUINED IT. THEY FUCKING RUINED IT. THEY RUINED IT FOR ME SO BADLY I CAN’T GO BACK FOR AT LEAST A YEAR, SO I CAN GET OVER HOW THEY FUCKING RUINED IT.
First, my grandmother went around the gardens complaining how the price of entrance and how it was a money trap. Which she emphasized when she saw the mini shrine statues where people were leaving change as offering for luck. When I tried to explain they are mimicking what is done in Shinto shrines SHE LAUGHED AT EVERYONE. I may make fun of a lot of people, but even I try to respect spirituality… It got even worse when she kept taking water from various water stations in the park only to constantly spit it out and insult it… THEN END THE TOUR BY SAYING LOCAL PARKS ARE FREE AND PRETTIER….
My Aunt decided to remark in her loud New York voice and persona at every single person who passed us and politely asked us to lower our voices. It is a majority silent garden where people come for peace. THERE WAS NOTHING RUDE OR OFFENSIVE FOR WHAT THEY WERE ASKING. I mean everyone in our family was quickly walking through the gardens anyways without looking. What was there for you to stop and talk about.
And there is my mom. My lovely, sweet All-American, blonde cherub of a mother. I WILL NEVER ALLOW YOU IN A PLACE THAT IS IMPORTANT TO ME AGAIN. Forget trying to share common interests, forget having a simple basic conversation with your daughter. Forget all of that! No matter how much you are frustrated with me, UNJUSTLY FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT OF TORMENT I MIGHT ADD, you don’t say stupid fucking cunty shit.
First, you call me dirty, disgusting and belonging in the woods in the morning, because I changed from washing my hair from everyday to every other day or every two days. A thing that I was doing, because I NEED TO FREAKING HEAL MY HAIR THAT IS DAMAGED. Oh no, you don’t stop the day there. You enter my peaceful refuge and in the middle of a crowd of plant appreciating people yell that I am fat. That my trainer, who by the way if you listened your daughter at all in any conversation is there for helping me regain atrophied muscle and mobility, is failing because I look like shit. OH AND LET US REMIND OURSELVES HOW I AM A BITCH, UNWORTHY, MONSTER, COLD, LAZY, STUPID, ETC…. person in front of this now gawking crowd of people. Then follow me off into a side path to scream at me for not meeting your ideals as the perfect fucking daughter.
And even after all of this. I still feel like crap, because you know what. I entered a state I haven’t been in years! I blacked out for a moment. I didn’t see anything or know what I did. I only know that I felt myself falter and try to regain my balance. But I could tell what I did, I gave you a light kick to the back of the leg to shut you up.
Something I can’t even take satisfaction in because, (1) it is wrong to lift your hand to anyone in that manner, (2) it occurred in a state I was not in control of and (3) YOU DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING SHUT UP. No, the only thing that happened is me self reflecting in the car ride home. Remembering the one and only ever time before this something like this has happened…
I was around thirteen. Our problems had been escalating the last year or two with your insanity getting worse and my general emergence into puberty… Bullying in school was getting worse and I myself was sinking deep into something I wouldn’t yet have a name for. I was in the kitchen making breakfast as I did every day for you, even if I knew you were going to not eat it and throw it out anyways. What the fight about I can’t remember. But I will always remember that feeling of blacking out and coming back into yourself only to see a surprising a result. A result that you instantly wish was satisfying, but has the complete opposite effect. At the park, it was kicking you. Back then, it was the sight of egg dripping down your face. I had cracked them on your head… A surprisingly creative thing though.
My favorite place was ruined for me though the moment I made that connection. It would be a place where I was brought back too one of my worst memories. A time when I was so out of control, because of my feelings, I literal lost myself. It made me realize it’s not just pain, hurt, guilt, sadness I have for my family. There is a large boiling cauldron of resentment that doesn’t want to just stay in the pot anymore.
I kind of wonder now… with another place leaving my list of safety zones where I can go to escape everything. Where can I go to calm my mind or get rid of a migraine…
I sort of wish Ukiyo was as true as the stories. I could bend down right by the edge of a pool of water and reach out towards a reflection…Where I went or what the place was didn’t really matter. It was just disconnected, separate, more realistic than a fantasy, but still yet a fantasy.
It would be a completely different world… wouldn’t it?
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 cannot handle Jason Momoa sometimes. Every time I hear about something he’s done I wonder how he can exist in a world where everything I know has been twisted at least by one thing. And then I see this:
I can’t even describe how often I’ve cried over my family. It’s what tears at me the most… And not only is he a funny down to earth guy with wonderfully obnoxious instagram posts of his family, but he is also a great father. HOW DO HE AND HIS WIFE EXIST? HOW!?!?!
It feels like someone just took what I secretly wished for in a father and put in front of me as a great human being as well. I mean… honestly… I can’t even type out a decent post about it, because I feel my heartstrings being pulled at.
God Bless That Family Forever,
I’ve been wrestling with the idea for years on wether or not I should have a podcast. On one hand, it is a great platform to talk about my interests and explore areas I never thought I could explore. On the other hand, it is also an activity that challenges my anxieties about using technology, maintaining a schedule and truly promoting a person. It shouldn’t be such a daunting decision, but it feels like with the media relevant day and age we are in that it is a much bigger choice then what it initially lets on. Putting aside the pros of it all I see two major cons: (1)OBS basic software is a challenge for me on it’s own and (2) would anyone watch a podcast without seeing the person’s face. I mean… I would still want to keep that feeling of anonymity. I like following in the footsteps of past female writers. AND I love the fact a pen name gives off the feeling anyone could basically be the writer. A podcast would just destroy that? No?
All that being said…. I did write an intro script and one on Jason Todd (because yea right I would wing it).
SHOULD I? SHOULDN’T I?
As you’ve just seen there’s been a flood of posts. This was due to some pain I was having from a flare up in my joints. But fear not good folks, De pain is…manageable-ish. Writing updates and websites are scheduled to come in large waves this upcoming week. Because I’ve decided to challenge myself! An actual post a day and one type of other update. AT LEAST! If I’m so scared to return back to school I at least need to be able to do something like this! Right?
A nervously determined,
I really wish The Gates and The Secret Circle would come back. Both only had one season and good potential. Maybe with Teen Wolf gone MTV can pick up a reboot of The Secret Circle to fill the slot with another Supernatural leaning show.
I think it is important to understand first that Marvel’s Inhumans are extremely colorful and bold comic book characters. The story follows in close detail the dramatic lives of the Royal Family of Attilan. A city of aliens on the moon who descend from ancient humans.
Although, Marvel has a great track record with movie adaptions a story like Inhumans wouldn’t be an easy feet. As characters like the fish-man Triton and Queen-of-all-the-hair-in-the-Universe Medusa exist. It’s not an easy adaption to make when you want it to feel authentic and look believable on screen.
Yet, Marvel chose to end making Inhumans, which was slated to be a Movie at first, a Tv show. A significantly smaller budget makes the task significantly harder. Plus, I heard it was sort of a rushed job. So from the start, I think everyone needs to understand they were starting at the bottom when it came to hero movie standards.
In order to simplify this next part I’ll put a nice list up for everyone :
Does this paint a clear enough picture for you? How Marvel took an ambitious project, started from the bottom and threw money at it awkwardly?
I will say this though: STILL WATCH THE SHOW. It definitely has a rising level of interest as more episodes come out and if you are a fan of the comic you will have curiosity on where they are going with it. Further, Anson Mount seriously can carry an entire show with his prodigy level acting. I mean, the guy is phenomenal.
It is still worth it,