Garrison Kelly's Blog, page 16
June 2, 2022
Ninjas and Shit
GENTLE VERSE
The breezy beaches lit with tiki torches
The sunlight kissing the trees and porches
The purple skies caressing the horizon
Making sweet romance to the lovers’ island
Holding hands as the doves fly past
A passionate kiss, time doesn’t move fast
A foot massage with peaches and cream
Afterwards snuggling for a heavenly beam
AGGRESSIVE VERSE
Fuck that! I want some ninjas and shit
Barbarians beating asses in the spiky pit
Armored marines blasting alien bitches
A war that requires eight million stitches
A billion staples to close the wounds
A river of blood all over the room
And then a siege tank runs over all
BOOM! Splatters everyone against the wall
CHORUS
Bombs! Gasoline! Ninjas and shit!
Giant! Robots! Ninjas and shit!
Tits! Dragons! Ninjas and shit!
Ninjas and shit! Ninjas and shit!
DIALOGUE
“But what about the beauty of Shakespearian love?”
Rain down on that shit with fire from above!
“But what about the literary classics we know?”
Set a big ass time bomb and wait for it to blow!
“But what about the taste of the finest wine?”
Forget that garbage, your ass is mine!
“But what about…” Can it, Prince Edward!
Death and destruction are so much better!
CHORUS
Bombs! Gasoline! Ninjas and shit!
Giant! Robots! Ninjas and shit!
Tits! Dragons! Ninjas and shit!
Ninjas and shit! Ninjas and shit!
The breezy beaches lit with tiki torches
The sunlight kissing the trees and porches
The purple skies caressing the horizon
Making sweet romance to the lovers’ island
Holding hands as the doves fly past
A passionate kiss, time doesn’t move fast
A foot massage with peaches and cream
Afterwards snuggling for a heavenly beam
AGGRESSIVE VERSE
Fuck that! I want some ninjas and shit
Barbarians beating asses in the spiky pit
Armored marines blasting alien bitches
A war that requires eight million stitches
A billion staples to close the wounds
A river of blood all over the room
And then a siege tank runs over all
BOOM! Splatters everyone against the wall
CHORUS
Bombs! Gasoline! Ninjas and shit!
Giant! Robots! Ninjas and shit!
Tits! Dragons! Ninjas and shit!
Ninjas and shit! Ninjas and shit!
DIALOGUE
“But what about the beauty of Shakespearian love?”
Rain down on that shit with fire from above!
“But what about the literary classics we know?”
Set a big ass time bomb and wait for it to blow!
“But what about the taste of the finest wine?”
Forget that garbage, your ass is mine!
“But what about…” Can it, Prince Edward!
Death and destruction are so much better!
CHORUS
Bombs! Gasoline! Ninjas and shit!
Giant! Robots! Ninjas and shit!
Tits! Dragons! Ninjas and shit!
Ninjas and shit! Ninjas and shit!
Mr. Poopy Pants
The lifelessness in Earle Saint’s eyes told the story of a man whose inner tiki torch had burned out a long time ago. The heat was there in the form of ashes, but the flame was long gone. Working for a software company operated by elitist screamers tended to do that to a man’s soul. “Work harder!” they said. “Lose weight!” they said. “You’re too fat and lazy!” summed up the bosses’ earworm rhetoric. The effects of their words were broadcast to the world via dark circles, a receding hairline, aging lines, and a saggy frown on Earle’s face.
Where does a man with blasting head voices go to take his bosses’ unsolicited weight loss advice? To McDonald’s, of course, but not for a cheeseburger or McNuggets. The only menu item Earle could stomach at this point was a cup of black coffee. No cream. No sugar. Nothing that would make it taste better than the shit sandwich he had to eat every day at that tech company. Just a standard cup of black coffee from a place famous for ball pits and constantly smiling clown mascots.
When Earle placed his order at the counter and paid for it with some pocket change, the clerk gave him his receipt with the order number on it. And he thought to himself, What’s stopping them from getting my fucking coffee right now? He shrugged his slumped shoulders and dragged his sorry keister to the nearest table, a small exercise, but one that left him even more tired than his office job.
He plopped down on the seat, took his glasses off, and held his battered face in his hands. The white dress shirt several sizes too big for him still managed to keep him claustrophobic in this public space, as did his green slacks. He just wanted to shower and change into a bathrobe. But the act of getting on with his day couldn’t be achieved without a steaming hot cup of black coffee, caffeine thundering through his veins. But the longer he waited, the more he tapped his foot long before the caffeine kicked in.
Earle wanted so badly to go postal at this moment. The demon had been building up inside him for years. His overworked mind still raced with thoughts of his father telling him he wasn’t good enough before spanking him with a belt. His dying brain cells conjured images of his mother telling him he wasn’t a real man for being unable to lose weight and lift heavy objects. His ashen head jelly flashed memories of him being beaten and kicked by jocks twice his size, but half his girth. All the pain and heartache culminated in a lifetime of work at a job he couldn’t wait to retire from, if he would at all.
And then a child’s scream jolted him awake like a black coffee shot to the heart. Earle had completely forgotten that he was in McDonald’s and school was out for the day, hence running children in the restaurant while their parents read the newspaper or fingered through their smart phones. Earle would have envied the happiness of these children if they weren’t so fucking annoying to him. They ran around like they were playing tag, weaving between tables without caring if they stepped on Earle’s foot. But the screams. Those screams that were like an acid trip without actually doing drugs. Schizophrenia in the real world.
“HEY!” Earle screamed in retaliation, getting everyone’s undivided attention. “Keep your voices down, you little bastards! I can’t take that noise!”
One of the previously screaming children burst into tears and ran into his formerly inattentive mother’s arms. She hugged him and gently said, “It’s okay, Devon. He didn’t mean that. He’s just being a Mr. Poopy Pants.” That got a laugh out of the rest of the children, but a tighter jaw clamp from Earle Saint himself. The children started chanting “Poopy-Pants!” at Earle, probably thinking his gut would bust with any more stress.
“Stop calling me Poopy-Pants, you little assholes!” The parents joined in on the action as well. “I mean it! Knock it the fuck off! You know what?! Some days, I wish I could buy a shotgun and blow your heads off!” This earned a collective gasp from the McDonald’s crowd and immediately shut them up. Earle’s face almost sagged with guilt for a moment. Almost. But not really. A victory was a victory.
But then the “Mr. Poopy Pants” chants started again and Earle’s eyeballs bulged out of his skull. The train tunnel veins in his body became visible through his corporate slave uniform. Foam was slopping out of his tightly clamped teeth. His fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails nearly broke against the weight of his ham-hawks. And then the literary descriptions resembled real life as Earle Saint transformed into a seven-foot tall powerhouse monster with fur everywhere, razorblade fangs, and a roar that would make the gods themselves cower in fear.
Forty-five years of child abuse, fatphobia, anti-male sexism, and attempted murder came pouring out of this monstrous form like hot lava. Children and their parents alike scrambled underneath the tables as they trembled and screamed in horror. Earle would cause them to scatter like cockroaches whenever he’d uproot a table or chair and toss it haphazardly around, almost getting the McDonald’s workers killed. They too took cover wherever they could find it, which in their case was the kitchen, where the boiling of the fry machine oil couldn’t compare to the solar Armageddon that was burning within Earle’s demonic form.
“I! WANT! COFFEE!” he shouted while chucking uprooted furniture around and smashing the walls upon themselves. Probably thinking it would calm him down, one of the female workers brought him a whole machine filled with boiling hot coffee. Once Earle snatched it from her hands, she darted back into the kitchen and screamed her head off.
He ripped the top off the machine like it was an ordinary bottle cap and chugged the entire contents like he was a caffeinated Supreme Court justice who loved beer too much. The scalding hotness soothed his bloody throat and bathed his bladder in liquid heaven. And for the first time since the Reagan administration, Earle Saint gave a tiny smile, which soon formed into a bigger one. And a bigger one, showing off all of his meat grinder teeth.
The kids and parents slowly crawled out of their horrified crouching positions and shakily made their way for the door thinking this McMassacre was finally over. But then the frown returned. The hideous saggy frown that weighed him down more than his human form belly. Forty-five years of hatred didn’t go away just because he drank an entire machine full of black coffee. A warm heart and a warm feel-good story were very different from a warm caffeinated drink. Earle tossed the machine aside like it was a stuffed toy from his murdered childhood, which he still missed to this day.
Another scream came, but it was quickly snuffed out upon the machine’s impact. Terror turned to sorrow. Rage became homicide. Death was inevitable with this much destruction happening all at once. Unfortunately, it happened to the kid named Devon, whose head was bashed beyond recognition from the impact of the machine, his mother crying over his slaughtered corpse.
Earle Saint knew his rage would get him into trouble one day. He just didn’t think it would involve taking another’s life by accident. He regretted not going to therapy. He hated that he couldn’t get a better job. He despised his owns selfishness. It all showed when his monstrous body shrank into a smaller version of his human self, with the anger of an entire audience looking down upon him like the microscopic criminal he was.
One of the kids, who looked like she could be Devon’s sister, slowly dragged herself towards the shrunken Earle, wiped the tears from her own eyes, and said, “You’re not Mr. Poopy Pants. You’re a dumpster fire!”
The audience gasped while the mother pulled the sister away in shock. Earle’s only sensible response at this point was…”Same thing.” He had no idea what was going to happen to him in the aftermath of this heinous day. Jail time? Another attempted murder on him? Suicide? But what he lacked in answers, he made up for in caffeinated heaven, which would be the only kind of heaven suitable for someone of his sins. “Can I please go to hell now?”
He asked and he received. The mother angrily strode up to him and squashed him underneath her high heels, spreading his bloody shame all over the floor. He never had the chance to heal himself. He never had the chance to atone for his worst moments. His entire life had been a chronicle of negative shit. But it was too late to save him. He got his coffee and that was all he could take to the afterlife with him. At least they made it how he liked it.
Where does a man with blasting head voices go to take his bosses’ unsolicited weight loss advice? To McDonald’s, of course, but not for a cheeseburger or McNuggets. The only menu item Earle could stomach at this point was a cup of black coffee. No cream. No sugar. Nothing that would make it taste better than the shit sandwich he had to eat every day at that tech company. Just a standard cup of black coffee from a place famous for ball pits and constantly smiling clown mascots.
When Earle placed his order at the counter and paid for it with some pocket change, the clerk gave him his receipt with the order number on it. And he thought to himself, What’s stopping them from getting my fucking coffee right now? He shrugged his slumped shoulders and dragged his sorry keister to the nearest table, a small exercise, but one that left him even more tired than his office job.
He plopped down on the seat, took his glasses off, and held his battered face in his hands. The white dress shirt several sizes too big for him still managed to keep him claustrophobic in this public space, as did his green slacks. He just wanted to shower and change into a bathrobe. But the act of getting on with his day couldn’t be achieved without a steaming hot cup of black coffee, caffeine thundering through his veins. But the longer he waited, the more he tapped his foot long before the caffeine kicked in.
Earle wanted so badly to go postal at this moment. The demon had been building up inside him for years. His overworked mind still raced with thoughts of his father telling him he wasn’t good enough before spanking him with a belt. His dying brain cells conjured images of his mother telling him he wasn’t a real man for being unable to lose weight and lift heavy objects. His ashen head jelly flashed memories of him being beaten and kicked by jocks twice his size, but half his girth. All the pain and heartache culminated in a lifetime of work at a job he couldn’t wait to retire from, if he would at all.
And then a child’s scream jolted him awake like a black coffee shot to the heart. Earle had completely forgotten that he was in McDonald’s and school was out for the day, hence running children in the restaurant while their parents read the newspaper or fingered through their smart phones. Earle would have envied the happiness of these children if they weren’t so fucking annoying to him. They ran around like they were playing tag, weaving between tables without caring if they stepped on Earle’s foot. But the screams. Those screams that were like an acid trip without actually doing drugs. Schizophrenia in the real world.
“HEY!” Earle screamed in retaliation, getting everyone’s undivided attention. “Keep your voices down, you little bastards! I can’t take that noise!”
One of the previously screaming children burst into tears and ran into his formerly inattentive mother’s arms. She hugged him and gently said, “It’s okay, Devon. He didn’t mean that. He’s just being a Mr. Poopy Pants.” That got a laugh out of the rest of the children, but a tighter jaw clamp from Earle Saint himself. The children started chanting “Poopy-Pants!” at Earle, probably thinking his gut would bust with any more stress.
“Stop calling me Poopy-Pants, you little assholes!” The parents joined in on the action as well. “I mean it! Knock it the fuck off! You know what?! Some days, I wish I could buy a shotgun and blow your heads off!” This earned a collective gasp from the McDonald’s crowd and immediately shut them up. Earle’s face almost sagged with guilt for a moment. Almost. But not really. A victory was a victory.
But then the “Mr. Poopy Pants” chants started again and Earle’s eyeballs bulged out of his skull. The train tunnel veins in his body became visible through his corporate slave uniform. Foam was slopping out of his tightly clamped teeth. His fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails nearly broke against the weight of his ham-hawks. And then the literary descriptions resembled real life as Earle Saint transformed into a seven-foot tall powerhouse monster with fur everywhere, razorblade fangs, and a roar that would make the gods themselves cower in fear.
Forty-five years of child abuse, fatphobia, anti-male sexism, and attempted murder came pouring out of this monstrous form like hot lava. Children and their parents alike scrambled underneath the tables as they trembled and screamed in horror. Earle would cause them to scatter like cockroaches whenever he’d uproot a table or chair and toss it haphazardly around, almost getting the McDonald’s workers killed. They too took cover wherever they could find it, which in their case was the kitchen, where the boiling of the fry machine oil couldn’t compare to the solar Armageddon that was burning within Earle’s demonic form.
“I! WANT! COFFEE!” he shouted while chucking uprooted furniture around and smashing the walls upon themselves. Probably thinking it would calm him down, one of the female workers brought him a whole machine filled with boiling hot coffee. Once Earle snatched it from her hands, she darted back into the kitchen and screamed her head off.
He ripped the top off the machine like it was an ordinary bottle cap and chugged the entire contents like he was a caffeinated Supreme Court justice who loved beer too much. The scalding hotness soothed his bloody throat and bathed his bladder in liquid heaven. And for the first time since the Reagan administration, Earle Saint gave a tiny smile, which soon formed into a bigger one. And a bigger one, showing off all of his meat grinder teeth.
The kids and parents slowly crawled out of their horrified crouching positions and shakily made their way for the door thinking this McMassacre was finally over. But then the frown returned. The hideous saggy frown that weighed him down more than his human form belly. Forty-five years of hatred didn’t go away just because he drank an entire machine full of black coffee. A warm heart and a warm feel-good story were very different from a warm caffeinated drink. Earle tossed the machine aside like it was a stuffed toy from his murdered childhood, which he still missed to this day.
Another scream came, but it was quickly snuffed out upon the machine’s impact. Terror turned to sorrow. Rage became homicide. Death was inevitable with this much destruction happening all at once. Unfortunately, it happened to the kid named Devon, whose head was bashed beyond recognition from the impact of the machine, his mother crying over his slaughtered corpse.
Earle Saint knew his rage would get him into trouble one day. He just didn’t think it would involve taking another’s life by accident. He regretted not going to therapy. He hated that he couldn’t get a better job. He despised his owns selfishness. It all showed when his monstrous body shrank into a smaller version of his human self, with the anger of an entire audience looking down upon him like the microscopic criminal he was.
One of the kids, who looked like she could be Devon’s sister, slowly dragged herself towards the shrunken Earle, wiped the tears from her own eyes, and said, “You’re not Mr. Poopy Pants. You’re a dumpster fire!”
The audience gasped while the mother pulled the sister away in shock. Earle’s only sensible response at this point was…”Same thing.” He had no idea what was going to happen to him in the aftermath of this heinous day. Jail time? Another attempted murder on him? Suicide? But what he lacked in answers, he made up for in caffeinated heaven, which would be the only kind of heaven suitable for someone of his sins. “Can I please go to hell now?”
He asked and he received. The mother angrily strode up to him and squashed him underneath her high heels, spreading his bloody shame all over the floor. He never had the chance to heal himself. He never had the chance to atone for his worst moments. His entire life had been a chronicle of negative shit. But it was too late to save him. He got his coffee and that was all he could take to the afterlife with him. At least they made it how he liked it.
Vera Echo
=========================================
THE BASICS
=========================================
Name: Vera Echo
Nickname: Doctor Feelgood
Gender: Cisgender Female
Age: 45
Birth Date: 455 AM
Birth Place: The Xavier Village
Currently Living In: The Xavier Village
Species: Elf
Ethnicity / Race: Elf
Citizenship: The Xavier Village
Religion / Beliefs: Magetan Leftist
=========================================
FAMILY
=========================================
Father: Unknown
Age: Unknown
Relationship: Went missing after birth
Mother: Marian Echo
Age: Dead
Relationship: Smothering
Pet(s): Lovely (cat)
=========================================
PHYSICAL FEATURES:
=========================================
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 110 lbs.
Frame / Build: Slender
Hair length: Shoulder
Hair color: Black
Eye shape: Narrow
Eye color: Purple
Complexion: Light Green
Face size: Narrow
Voice type: Gentle
Foot size: Women’s 10
Tattoo(s): Angels on her right leg
Scar(s): Knee injury
Other notable accessories: Security teddy bear
Any other identifying mark(s):
=========================================
SOCIO / ECONOMIC / POLITICAL
=========================================
Political Affiliation: Leftwing
Economic Class: Moneyless society
Social Class: Healer
Occupation: Psychotherapist
Income: Moneyless society
Residence: Cabin on the outskirts of the village
Transportation: Feet
=========================================
INTERESTS
=========================================
Favorite Food(s): Carrots and ranch
Favorite Sport(s): Yoga
Favorite Book(s): Fantasy romances
Favorite Show(s): TV wasn’t invented yet
Favorite Music: Harp and violin
Favorite Color(s): Purple and green
Clothing Style / Preferences: Religious robes and Birkenstocks
Hobbies: Knitting, doll collecting, and reading
Role Model(s): Mageta and Llewellyn Xavier
Likes: Naps, peace and quiet, love stories
Dislikes: Ableism, racism, and animal abuse
=========================================
PERSONALITY
=========================================
Good Qualities / Trait(s): Sweet, loving, empathetic, and kind
Vices / Negative Trait(s): Hypersensitive to raucous stimuli, easily burned out and traumatized
Strengths: Compassion and good conversation
Weaknesses: Fearful, knee injury, and cries easily
Habits / Idiosyncrasies / Quirks: Tosses teddy bear and catches it, bounces feet
Phobia / Fears: Missing out on life due to not only her smothering relationship with her mother, but also the limitations of her autism
Select one personality type below that best describes your character:
Confidant (INFJ) – Intensely private and committed to their beliefs. Highly intuitive, emphatic and dedicated listeners. Quietly forceful and sensitive. The rarest personality type, especially with males. Focused on fantasy more than reality. Fears doing the wrong thing. Tend to work quietly behind the scenes and influence people than be leaders. Perservering, especially when it comes to doing the right thing. Very individualistic, rather than leading or following, but can work with groups to accomplish a goal.
Define your character’s personality based on the following aspects:
a. Physically: Easy to approach
b. Psychologically: Wise, caring, intelligent, and loving
c. Spiritually: Devoted follower of Mageta, but empathetic towards people who are not
d. Emotionally: Cracks under pressure, but doesn’t let it show
e. Socially: Universally loved by her village, but hunted by perverted city men
Others things to know:
=========================================
HISTORY
=========================================
1. Describe the character’s childhood. Vera lived a sheltered life due to her mother’s overprotective nature, which in turn was inspired by the disappearance of Vera’s father. Vera originally wanted to be a soldier and defied her mother to pursue training with Edward Xavier. She sustained a knee injury that put her out of action permanently. Vera had a falling out with her mother over the “I told you sos” she gave her. She pursued psychotherapy as a career to make sure nobody else was as lonely as she was.
2. Name the good incidents that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped her personality? Whenever she wasn’t being smothered, she sneaked out of the cabin to play with her friends and that’s where she got her social skills from.
3. Name bad experiences that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? Not much outside of the knee injury and mother’s helicopter parenting style. She had been sexually harassed by Morgan Town humans before and starts to question if her mother was right all along.
4. What is the character doing when first introduced? What are her goals at this point? She’s sitting in on a Magetan sermon conducted by Llewellyn, only for it to be interrupted by a potential patient, Bijou Birdwing. Vera wanted to sign her on as a client, but Bijou refused.
4a. Do these goals change at any point in the story? Can’t answer due to spoilers.
=========================================
STORY DEVELOPMENT:
=========================================
CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: (Put an X on all applicable boxes)
[] Addict (Conspicuous Consumer, Glutton, Workaholic–see also Gambler)
[X] Advocate (Attorney, Defender, Legislator, Lobbyist, Environmentalist)
[] Alchemist (Wizard, Magician, Scientist, Inventor–see also Visionary)
[] Angel (Fairy Godmother/Godfather)
[] Antagonist (Opposing View, not necessarily the Evil Bad — see also Villain)
[] Anti-Hero
[X] Artist (Artisan, Craftsperson, Sculptor, Weaver)
[] Athlete (Olympian)
[] Avenger (Avenging Angel, Savior, Messiah)
[] Beggar (Homeless person/ Indigent)
[] Bully (Coward)
[] Catalyst
[] Child (Orphan, Wounded, Magical/Innocent, Nature, Divine, Puer/Puella Eternis, or Eternal Boy/Girl)
[] Clown (Court Jester, Fool, Dummling)
[] Companion (Friend, Sidekick, Right Arm, Consort)
[] Damsel (Princess)
[] Destroyer (Attila, Mad Scientist, Serial Killer, Spoiler)
[] Detective (Spy, Double Agent, Sleuth, Snoop, Sherlock Holmes, Private Investigator, Profiler–see also Warrior/Crime Fighter)
[] Dilettante (Amateur)
[] Don Juan (Casanova, Gigolo, Seducer, Sex Addict)
[] Engineer (Architect, Builder, Schemer)
[] Exorcist (Shaman)
[] Father (Patriarch, Progenitor)
[] Femme Fatale (Black Widow, Flirt, Siren, Circe, Seductress, Enchantress)
[] Gambler
[] God (Adonis, see also Hero)
[] Gossip (see also Networker)
[] Guide (Guru, Sage, Crone, Wise Woman, Spiritual Master, Evangelist, Preacher)
[X] Healer (Wounded Healer, Intuitive Healer, Caregiver, Nurse, Therapist, Analyst, Counselor)
[] Hedonist (Bon Vivant, Chef, Gourmet, Gourmand, Sybarite–see also Mystic)
[] Hermit (see also Wise old Man)
[] Hero/Heroine (see also Knight, Warrior)
[] Judge (Critic, Examiner, Mediator, Arbitrator)
[] King (Emperor, Ruler, Leader, Chief — see also Politician)
[] Knight in Shining Armor
[] Liberator
[] Lover
[] Martyr
[X] Mediator (Ambassador, Diplomat, Go-Between)
[X] Mentor (Master, Counselor, Tutor)
[] Messiah (Redeemer, Savior)
[] Midas/Miser
[] Monk/Nun (Celibate)
[] Mother (Matriarch, Mother Nature)
[] Mystic (Renunciate, Anchorite, Hermit)
[] Networker (Messenger, Herald, Courier, Journalist, Communicator)
[] Pioneer (Explorer, Settler, Pilgrim, Innovator)
[] Poet
[] Politician (see also King)
[] Priest (Priestess, Minister, Rabbi, Evangelist)
[] Prince
[] Prostitute
[] Queen (Empress)
[] Rebel (Anarchist, Revolutionary, Political Protester, Nonconformist, Pirate)
[] Rescuer
[] Saboteur
[] Samaritan
[] Scribe (Copyist, Secretary, Accountant–see also Journalist)
[] Seeker (Wanderer, Vagabond, Nomad)
[] Servant (Indentured Servant)
[] Shape-shifter (Spell-caster–see also Trickster)
[] Slave
[] Spectre (Ghost / Apparition with Unresolved issues)
[] Storyteller (Minstrel, Narrator)
[] Student / Scholar (Disciple, Devotee, Follower, Apprentice)
[X] Teacher (Instructor, see also Mentor)
[] Thief (Swindler, Con Artist, Pickpocket, Burglar, Robin Hood)
[] Threshold Guardian
[] Trickster (Puck, Provocateur)
[] Turncoat
[] Vampire
[] Victim
[] Villain / Shadow (Big Bad of the story; see also Antagonist)
[] Virgin (see also Celibate)
[] Visionary (Dreamer, Prophet, Seer–see also Guide, Alchemist)
[] Warrior (Soldier, Crime Fighter, Amazon, Mercenary, Soldier of Fortune, Gunslinger, Samurai)
[] Wise old Man (see also Hermit)
1. What are the motivations for the character’s actions? Not wanting anybody to be as lonely as she was growing up.
2. What are the character’s goals / ambition / dreams? To heal as many minds as possible without being vicariously traumatized herself due to her work.
3. What external conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? Trying to survive attacks on the elven race.
3a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? Knee injury, inability to fight, and inability to process war stimuli
4. What inner conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? To heal her own trauma with her Cognitive Behavioral Therapy techniques.
4a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? She doesn’t do it often enough because she’s frustrated by the slowness of her healing process.
=========================================
AUTHOR’S NOTES / MISCELLANY
=========================================
Character theme song: “Life” by Gene Kauer
Celebrity / IRL lookalike: Miyam Bialik
THE BASICS
=========================================
Name: Vera Echo
Nickname: Doctor Feelgood
Gender: Cisgender Female
Age: 45
Birth Date: 455 AM
Birth Place: The Xavier Village
Currently Living In: The Xavier Village
Species: Elf
Ethnicity / Race: Elf
Citizenship: The Xavier Village
Religion / Beliefs: Magetan Leftist
=========================================
FAMILY
=========================================
Father: Unknown
Age: Unknown
Relationship: Went missing after birth
Mother: Marian Echo
Age: Dead
Relationship: Smothering
Pet(s): Lovely (cat)
=========================================
PHYSICAL FEATURES:
=========================================
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 110 lbs.
Frame / Build: Slender
Hair length: Shoulder
Hair color: Black
Eye shape: Narrow
Eye color: Purple
Complexion: Light Green
Face size: Narrow
Voice type: Gentle
Foot size: Women’s 10
Tattoo(s): Angels on her right leg
Scar(s): Knee injury
Other notable accessories: Security teddy bear
Any other identifying mark(s):
=========================================
SOCIO / ECONOMIC / POLITICAL
=========================================
Political Affiliation: Leftwing
Economic Class: Moneyless society
Social Class: Healer
Occupation: Psychotherapist
Income: Moneyless society
Residence: Cabin on the outskirts of the village
Transportation: Feet
=========================================
INTERESTS
=========================================
Favorite Food(s): Carrots and ranch
Favorite Sport(s): Yoga
Favorite Book(s): Fantasy romances
Favorite Show(s): TV wasn’t invented yet
Favorite Music: Harp and violin
Favorite Color(s): Purple and green
Clothing Style / Preferences: Religious robes and Birkenstocks
Hobbies: Knitting, doll collecting, and reading
Role Model(s): Mageta and Llewellyn Xavier
Likes: Naps, peace and quiet, love stories
Dislikes: Ableism, racism, and animal abuse
=========================================
PERSONALITY
=========================================
Good Qualities / Trait(s): Sweet, loving, empathetic, and kind
Vices / Negative Trait(s): Hypersensitive to raucous stimuli, easily burned out and traumatized
Strengths: Compassion and good conversation
Weaknesses: Fearful, knee injury, and cries easily
Habits / Idiosyncrasies / Quirks: Tosses teddy bear and catches it, bounces feet
Phobia / Fears: Missing out on life due to not only her smothering relationship with her mother, but also the limitations of her autism
Select one personality type below that best describes your character:
Confidant (INFJ) – Intensely private and committed to their beliefs. Highly intuitive, emphatic and dedicated listeners. Quietly forceful and sensitive. The rarest personality type, especially with males. Focused on fantasy more than reality. Fears doing the wrong thing. Tend to work quietly behind the scenes and influence people than be leaders. Perservering, especially when it comes to doing the right thing. Very individualistic, rather than leading or following, but can work with groups to accomplish a goal.
Define your character’s personality based on the following aspects:
a. Physically: Easy to approach
b. Psychologically: Wise, caring, intelligent, and loving
c. Spiritually: Devoted follower of Mageta, but empathetic towards people who are not
d. Emotionally: Cracks under pressure, but doesn’t let it show
e. Socially: Universally loved by her village, but hunted by perverted city men
Others things to know:
=========================================
HISTORY
=========================================
1. Describe the character’s childhood. Vera lived a sheltered life due to her mother’s overprotective nature, which in turn was inspired by the disappearance of Vera’s father. Vera originally wanted to be a soldier and defied her mother to pursue training with Edward Xavier. She sustained a knee injury that put her out of action permanently. Vera had a falling out with her mother over the “I told you sos” she gave her. She pursued psychotherapy as a career to make sure nobody else was as lonely as she was.
2. Name the good incidents that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped her personality? Whenever she wasn’t being smothered, she sneaked out of the cabin to play with her friends and that’s where she got her social skills from.
3. Name bad experiences that have happened in the character’s life. How has this shaped his personality? Not much outside of the knee injury and mother’s helicopter parenting style. She had been sexually harassed by Morgan Town humans before and starts to question if her mother was right all along.
4. What is the character doing when first introduced? What are her goals at this point? She’s sitting in on a Magetan sermon conducted by Llewellyn, only for it to be interrupted by a potential patient, Bijou Birdwing. Vera wanted to sign her on as a client, but Bijou refused.
4a. Do these goals change at any point in the story? Can’t answer due to spoilers.
=========================================
STORY DEVELOPMENT:
=========================================
CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: (Put an X on all applicable boxes)
[] Addict (Conspicuous Consumer, Glutton, Workaholic–see also Gambler)
[X] Advocate (Attorney, Defender, Legislator, Lobbyist, Environmentalist)
[] Alchemist (Wizard, Magician, Scientist, Inventor–see also Visionary)
[] Angel (Fairy Godmother/Godfather)
[] Antagonist (Opposing View, not necessarily the Evil Bad — see also Villain)
[] Anti-Hero
[X] Artist (Artisan, Craftsperson, Sculptor, Weaver)
[] Athlete (Olympian)
[] Avenger (Avenging Angel, Savior, Messiah)
[] Beggar (Homeless person/ Indigent)
[] Bully (Coward)
[] Catalyst
[] Child (Orphan, Wounded, Magical/Innocent, Nature, Divine, Puer/Puella Eternis, or Eternal Boy/Girl)
[] Clown (Court Jester, Fool, Dummling)
[] Companion (Friend, Sidekick, Right Arm, Consort)
[] Damsel (Princess)
[] Destroyer (Attila, Mad Scientist, Serial Killer, Spoiler)
[] Detective (Spy, Double Agent, Sleuth, Snoop, Sherlock Holmes, Private Investigator, Profiler–see also Warrior/Crime Fighter)
[] Dilettante (Amateur)
[] Don Juan (Casanova, Gigolo, Seducer, Sex Addict)
[] Engineer (Architect, Builder, Schemer)
[] Exorcist (Shaman)
[] Father (Patriarch, Progenitor)
[] Femme Fatale (Black Widow, Flirt, Siren, Circe, Seductress, Enchantress)
[] Gambler
[] God (Adonis, see also Hero)
[] Gossip (see also Networker)
[] Guide (Guru, Sage, Crone, Wise Woman, Spiritual Master, Evangelist, Preacher)
[X] Healer (Wounded Healer, Intuitive Healer, Caregiver, Nurse, Therapist, Analyst, Counselor)
[] Hedonist (Bon Vivant, Chef, Gourmet, Gourmand, Sybarite–see also Mystic)
[] Hermit (see also Wise old Man)
[] Hero/Heroine (see also Knight, Warrior)
[] Judge (Critic, Examiner, Mediator, Arbitrator)
[] King (Emperor, Ruler, Leader, Chief — see also Politician)
[] Knight in Shining Armor
[] Liberator
[] Lover
[] Martyr
[X] Mediator (Ambassador, Diplomat, Go-Between)
[X] Mentor (Master, Counselor, Tutor)
[] Messiah (Redeemer, Savior)
[] Midas/Miser
[] Monk/Nun (Celibate)
[] Mother (Matriarch, Mother Nature)
[] Mystic (Renunciate, Anchorite, Hermit)
[] Networker (Messenger, Herald, Courier, Journalist, Communicator)
[] Pioneer (Explorer, Settler, Pilgrim, Innovator)
[] Poet
[] Politician (see also King)
[] Priest (Priestess, Minister, Rabbi, Evangelist)
[] Prince
[] Prostitute
[] Queen (Empress)
[] Rebel (Anarchist, Revolutionary, Political Protester, Nonconformist, Pirate)
[] Rescuer
[] Saboteur
[] Samaritan
[] Scribe (Copyist, Secretary, Accountant–see also Journalist)
[] Seeker (Wanderer, Vagabond, Nomad)
[] Servant (Indentured Servant)
[] Shape-shifter (Spell-caster–see also Trickster)
[] Slave
[] Spectre (Ghost / Apparition with Unresolved issues)
[] Storyteller (Minstrel, Narrator)
[] Student / Scholar (Disciple, Devotee, Follower, Apprentice)
[X] Teacher (Instructor, see also Mentor)
[] Thief (Swindler, Con Artist, Pickpocket, Burglar, Robin Hood)
[] Threshold Guardian
[] Trickster (Puck, Provocateur)
[] Turncoat
[] Vampire
[] Victim
[] Villain / Shadow (Big Bad of the story; see also Antagonist)
[] Virgin (see also Celibate)
[] Visionary (Dreamer, Prophet, Seer–see also Guide, Alchemist)
[] Warrior (Soldier, Crime Fighter, Amazon, Mercenary, Soldier of Fortune, Gunslinger, Samurai)
[] Wise old Man (see also Hermit)
1. What are the motivations for the character’s actions? Not wanting anybody to be as lonely as she was growing up.
2. What are the character’s goals / ambition / dreams? To heal as many minds as possible without being vicariously traumatized herself due to her work.
3. What external conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? Trying to survive attacks on the elven race.
3a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? Knee injury, inability to fight, and inability to process war stimuli
4. What inner conflicts would you wish for the character to overcome? To heal her own trauma with her Cognitive Behavioral Therapy techniques.
4a. What are the obstacles in the character’s path that might make this difficult? She doesn’t do it often enough because she’s frustrated by the slowness of her healing process.
=========================================
AUTHOR’S NOTES / MISCELLANY
=========================================
Character theme song: “Life” by Gene Kauer
Celebrity / IRL lookalike: Miyam Bialik
May 27, 2022
Unglued
VERSE 1
You’re obsessed with gender
Word salad chopped in a blender
Yearning for prehistory
When marginalization became misery
You’re making fun of us
Yet you’ve gained all the trust
Of creepy little minions
Who share the same opinions
CHORUS
Unglued is what you’ve become
Unhinged to the point of being dumb
Unscathed while others suffer
Just tell us all to be tougher
VERSE 2
You’re obsessed with race
You paint it all on your face
Call it your morning makeup
It’s a time when you have to wake up
You’re making fun of them
None coming to their defense
One by one they tie the cord
You belong in a psych ward
CHORUS
Unglued is what you’ve become
Unhinged to the point of being dumb
Unscathed while others suffer
Just tell us all to be tougher
VERSE 3
As you’re nice and cozy in your master bedroom
Will you dream of how we’ll all be dead soon?
Will you take a pay cut if the poor can eat?
Will you turn a blind eye if they’re on the streets?
If you think I sound like a broken record
Blasting out the speakers in a lifeless desert
It’s because of what I learned along the way
If I say it loud enough, it becomes clear as day
CHORUS
Unglued is what you’ve become
Unhinged to the point of being dumb
Unscathed while others suffer
Just tell us all to be tougher
You’re obsessed with gender
Word salad chopped in a blender
Yearning for prehistory
When marginalization became misery
You’re making fun of us
Yet you’ve gained all the trust
Of creepy little minions
Who share the same opinions
CHORUS
Unglued is what you’ve become
Unhinged to the point of being dumb
Unscathed while others suffer
Just tell us all to be tougher
VERSE 2
You’re obsessed with race
You paint it all on your face
Call it your morning makeup
It’s a time when you have to wake up
You’re making fun of them
None coming to their defense
One by one they tie the cord
You belong in a psych ward
CHORUS
Unglued is what you’ve become
Unhinged to the point of being dumb
Unscathed while others suffer
Just tell us all to be tougher
VERSE 3
As you’re nice and cozy in your master bedroom
Will you dream of how we’ll all be dead soon?
Will you take a pay cut if the poor can eat?
Will you turn a blind eye if they’re on the streets?
If you think I sound like a broken record
Blasting out the speakers in a lifeless desert
It’s because of what I learned along the way
If I say it loud enough, it becomes clear as day
CHORUS
Unglued is what you’ve become
Unhinged to the point of being dumb
Unscathed while others suffer
Just tell us all to be tougher
May 18, 2022
Twelve Days
VERSE 1
I could’ve been a rock star who sold out arenas
I could’ve been a bigger wrestler than Rock and John Cena
I could’ve been the president of the United States
I could’ve been the one to erase all the hate
Betrayal from within kept me from reaching those heights
Too many wars with my mind, lost those fights
Too many times where anxiety took over
Now this journey seems to go nowhere
CHORUS
One day of victory and twelve days of rest
But everyone keeps telling me it’s all for the best
Everyday I rot away
Dystopia is here to stay
VERSE 2
Paper lanterns with the dimmest lights of them all
Guide my way down the never-ending hall
Forgive me if I seem to stumble and fall
Or bang my fucked up head against the wall
If this trajectory sounds way too familiar
It’s because being directionless is such a killer
So many dreams of my peers are snuffed out
Now I’m the latest whose future is in doubt
CHORUS
One day of victory and twelve days of rest
But everyone keeps telling me it’s all for the best
Everyday I rot away
Dystopia is here to stay
BRIDGE
I could’ve been the hero of everyone’s story
I could’ve spread my wings, could’ve been soaring
I could’ve been the next god the world needed
But none of it’s possible when I feel defeated
CHORUS X2
One day of victory and twelve days of rest
But everyone keeps telling me it’s all for the best
Everyday I rot away
Dystopia is here to stay
I could’ve been a rock star who sold out arenas
I could’ve been a bigger wrestler than Rock and John Cena
I could’ve been the president of the United States
I could’ve been the one to erase all the hate
Betrayal from within kept me from reaching those heights
Too many wars with my mind, lost those fights
Too many times where anxiety took over
Now this journey seems to go nowhere
CHORUS
One day of victory and twelve days of rest
But everyone keeps telling me it’s all for the best
Everyday I rot away
Dystopia is here to stay
VERSE 2
Paper lanterns with the dimmest lights of them all
Guide my way down the never-ending hall
Forgive me if I seem to stumble and fall
Or bang my fucked up head against the wall
If this trajectory sounds way too familiar
It’s because being directionless is such a killer
So many dreams of my peers are snuffed out
Now I’m the latest whose future is in doubt
CHORUS
One day of victory and twelve days of rest
But everyone keeps telling me it’s all for the best
Everyday I rot away
Dystopia is here to stay
BRIDGE
I could’ve been the hero of everyone’s story
I could’ve spread my wings, could’ve been soaring
I could’ve been the next god the world needed
But none of it’s possible when I feel defeated
CHORUS X2
One day of victory and twelve days of rest
But everyone keeps telling me it’s all for the best
Everyday I rot away
Dystopia is here to stay
May 17, 2022
Concerts
Well…I’m burned out and bored out of my mind for the thirteenth day in a row. So to alleviate this boredom, I’m going to post a list of all the concerts I’ve ever been to in my life. Nostalgia feels good sometimes, you know?
1992:
• MC Hammer X Boys II Men (July 17th at the Seattle Center Arena)
1994:
• WWF House Show (Sacramento, CA)
1996:
• Sting and Geggy-Tah (August 30th at the Irvine Meadows Amphitheater in Irvine, CA)
2000:
• Roger Waters: In the Flesh (June 27th at the Rose Garden Arena in Portland, OR)
2001:
• Rammstein (July 6th at the Roseland Theater in Portland, OR)
2003:
• The Moody Blues (June 14th at Marymoor Park in Redmond, WA)
• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)
2004:
• Linkin Park, P.O.D, Hubastank, and Story of the Year (February 13th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Incubus and Sparta (August 7th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Korn, Breaking Benjamin, Chevelle, Skindred, and Instruction (November 14th at the Tacoma Dome)
2005:
• Papa Roach, Skindred, and The Fuck-Ups (February 17th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)
• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)
• Green Day and Jimmy Eat World (September 26th at the Tacoma Dome)
• System of a Down and The Mars Volta (October 5th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
2006:
• Korn, Mudvayne, and 10 Years (March 5th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)
• Roger Waters: Dark Side of the Moon (October 12th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
2008:
• Nightwish and Sonata Arctica (September 9th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
2009:
• WWE No Way Out (February 15th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Green Day and The Bravery (July 3rd at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Soulfly, Prong, and Mutiny Within (October 7th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)
2010:
• Tool and Rajas (July 10th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Roger Waters: The Wall (December 11th at the Tacoma Dome)
2011:
• Rammstein (May 15th at the Tacoma Dome)
2012:
• Rammstein (May 14th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Nickelback, Bush, Seether, and My Darkest Days (June 23rd at the Tacoma Dome)
• Linkin Park X Incubus (September 5th at the Tacoma Dome)
2013:
• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)
• Ladysmith Black Mambazo (Edmonds, WA)
• Rodriguez and Jenny O (April 30th at the 1st Bank Center in Denver, CO)
• Bill Maher (June 22nd at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)
• Three Days Grace and Otherwise (August 23rd at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Papa Roach, Pop Evil, and Age of Days (October 5th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)
2014:
• The Pink Floyd Experience (March 29th at the Admiral Theater in Bremerton, WA)
2015:
• Cavalera Conspiracy, Death Angel, Corrosion of Conformity, Lody Kong, and Sanction VIII (May 1st at Studio Seven in Seattle)
• Final Fantasy Symphony (July 10th in Seattle)
• Slipknot, Lamb of God, Three Days Grace, Bullet For My Valentine, Theory of a Deadman, and Motionless in White (August 23rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
2016:
• Nightwish, Sonata Arctica, and Delain (March 7th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Rob Zombie X Korn (July 27th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Slipknot X Marilyn Manson (August 11th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Disturbed, Breaking Benjamin, Anthrax, Alter Bridge, Saint Asonia, Pop Evil, Stitched Up Heart, and Windowpane (August 21st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Five Finger Death Punch, Shinedown, Sixx AM, and As Lions (November 5th at the Tacoma Dome)
2017:
• Garrison Keillor (April 15th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)
• Roger Waters: Us & Them (June 24th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Brit Floyd (July 1st at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)
• Brian Regan and Dennis Regan (July 28th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)
• Green Day (August 1st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Metallica, Avenged Sevenfold, and Gojira (August 9th at Century Link Field in Seattle)
• Incubus and Jimmy Eat World (August 19th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Jason Mewes (September 14th at the Tacoma Comedy Club)
2018:
• Pop Evil, Black Map, and Palaye Royale (February 25th at El Corzazon in Seattle)
• Starset, Palisades, Grabbitz, and Year of the Locust (February 28th at El Corazon in Seattle)
• Papa Roach and Nothing More (May 4th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Soulfly, Nile, After the Fallout, and Devilation (May 13th at Studio Seven in Seattle)
• Breaking Benjamin, Five Finger Death Punch, and Bad Wolves (July 16th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Seether, 10 Years, and The Dead Deads (July 31st at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Halestorm, In This Moment, and New Years Day (August 17th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)
• Evanescence and Lindsey Stirling (September 7th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
2019:
• Jason Mewes (February 2nd at the Tacoma Comedy Club)
• Soulfly, Unearth, Incite, Skinflint, Odyssian, and Emanon (February 23rd at Club Sur Rocks in Seattle)
• Within Temptation, In Flames, and Smash Into Pieces (March 16th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Slipknot, Volbeat, and Gojira (July 30th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson, Corrosion of Conformity, Palaye Royale, and Bones UK (August 3rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Ghost and Nothing More (September 19th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)
• Starset, Palisades, Hyde, and A Brilliant Lie (October 13th at the Neptune Theater in Seattle)
• Babymetal and The Hu (October 16th at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)
• Hellyeah, Nonpoint, and Deepfall (December 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)
2020:
• Soulfly, Toxic Holocaust, and Madzilla (February 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)
1992:
• MC Hammer X Boys II Men (July 17th at the Seattle Center Arena)
1994:
• WWF House Show (Sacramento, CA)
1996:
• Sting and Geggy-Tah (August 30th at the Irvine Meadows Amphitheater in Irvine, CA)
2000:
• Roger Waters: In the Flesh (June 27th at the Rose Garden Arena in Portland, OR)
2001:
• Rammstein (July 6th at the Roseland Theater in Portland, OR)
2003:
• The Moody Blues (June 14th at Marymoor Park in Redmond, WA)
• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)
2004:
• Linkin Park, P.O.D, Hubastank, and Story of the Year (February 13th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Incubus and Sparta (August 7th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Korn, Breaking Benjamin, Chevelle, Skindred, and Instruction (November 14th at the Tacoma Dome)
2005:
• Papa Roach, Skindred, and The Fuck-Ups (February 17th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)
• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)
• Green Day and Jimmy Eat World (September 26th at the Tacoma Dome)
• System of a Down and The Mars Volta (October 5th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
2006:
• Korn, Mudvayne, and 10 Years (March 5th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)
• Roger Waters: Dark Side of the Moon (October 12th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
2008:
• Nightwish and Sonata Arctica (September 9th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
2009:
• WWE No Way Out (February 15th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Green Day and The Bravery (July 3rd at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Soulfly, Prong, and Mutiny Within (October 7th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)
2010:
• Tool and Rajas (July 10th at the Key Arena in Seattle)
• Roger Waters: The Wall (December 11th at the Tacoma Dome)
2011:
• Rammstein (May 15th at the Tacoma Dome)
2012:
• Rammstein (May 14th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Nickelback, Bush, Seether, and My Darkest Days (June 23rd at the Tacoma Dome)
• Linkin Park X Incubus (September 5th at the Tacoma Dome)
2013:
• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)
• Ladysmith Black Mambazo (Edmonds, WA)
• Rodriguez and Jenny O (April 30th at the 1st Bank Center in Denver, CO)
• Bill Maher (June 22nd at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)
• Three Days Grace and Otherwise (August 23rd at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Papa Roach, Pop Evil, and Age of Days (October 5th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)
2014:
• The Pink Floyd Experience (March 29th at the Admiral Theater in Bremerton, WA)
2015:
• Cavalera Conspiracy, Death Angel, Corrosion of Conformity, Lody Kong, and Sanction VIII (May 1st at Studio Seven in Seattle)
• Final Fantasy Symphony (July 10th in Seattle)
• Slipknot, Lamb of God, Three Days Grace, Bullet For My Valentine, Theory of a Deadman, and Motionless in White (August 23rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
2016:
• Nightwish, Sonata Arctica, and Delain (March 7th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Rob Zombie X Korn (July 27th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Slipknot X Marilyn Manson (August 11th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Disturbed, Breaking Benjamin, Anthrax, Alter Bridge, Saint Asonia, Pop Evil, Stitched Up Heart, and Windowpane (August 21st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Five Finger Death Punch, Shinedown, Sixx AM, and As Lions (November 5th at the Tacoma Dome)
2017:
• Garrison Keillor (April 15th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)
• Roger Waters: Us & Them (June 24th at the Tacoma Dome)
• Brit Floyd (July 1st at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)
• Brian Regan and Dennis Regan (July 28th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)
• Green Day (August 1st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Metallica, Avenged Sevenfold, and Gojira (August 9th at Century Link Field in Seattle)
• Incubus and Jimmy Eat World (August 19th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Jason Mewes (September 14th at the Tacoma Comedy Club)
2018:
• Pop Evil, Black Map, and Palaye Royale (February 25th at El Corzazon in Seattle)
• Starset, Palisades, Grabbitz, and Year of the Locust (February 28th at El Corazon in Seattle)
• Papa Roach and Nothing More (May 4th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Soulfly, Nile, After the Fallout, and Devilation (May 13th at Studio Seven in Seattle)
• Breaking Benjamin, Five Finger Death Punch, and Bad Wolves (July 16th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Seether, 10 Years, and The Dead Deads (July 31st at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Halestorm, In This Moment, and New Years Day (August 17th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)
• Evanescence and Lindsey Stirling (September 7th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
2019:
• Jason Mewes (February 2nd at the Tacoma Comedy Club)
• Soulfly, Unearth, Incite, Skinflint, Odyssian, and Emanon (February 23rd at Club Sur Rocks in Seattle)
• Within Temptation, In Flames, and Smash Into Pieces (March 16th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)
• Slipknot, Volbeat, and Gojira (July 30th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson, Corrosion of Conformity, Palaye Royale, and Bones UK (August 3rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)
• Ghost and Nothing More (September 19th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)
• Starset, Palisades, Hyde, and A Brilliant Lie (October 13th at the Neptune Theater in Seattle)
• Babymetal and The Hu (October 16th at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)
• Hellyeah, Nonpoint, and Deepfall (December 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)
2020:
• Soulfly, Toxic Holocaust, and Madzilla (February 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)
May 4, 2022
Get Me Out of Here
I drink my nectarine juice with no BPAs
The plane’s exhaust fumes shit on the EPA
Babies are crying and cracking my skull
Drunken lunatic tries to give the latch a pull
Horny ass couples suck on faces and tits
Flight attendants’ short fuses are blown to bits
The Air Marshal fell asleep on the job
Get me out of here, I’m ready to sob
I’ll swan dive to the streets of London
Or to France for some Paris lovin’
Parachute to the beaches of Mexico
Pancake on the deserts of Texas, NO!
Anywhere is better than the airplane
Even hell starts to sound a little bit tame
The high winds will cut me to shreds
At least I’ll have my own graveyard bed
I’ll take matters into my own hands
If this plane doesn’t want to fucking land
Chuck the dipshits out of the airlock
Drag them by their greasy coach hair locks
One by one the angels fly to heaven
Or they splat at the seven-eleven
Or they’re floating on the whale road
Silence has become their only code
Oh, my word, I’ve become a flight risk
Pain in the neck like a broken cervical disk
TSA might have to pat my ass down
I’ll leave a present, something warm and brown
They say I might cause another nine-eleven
I can’t even fly a seven-forty-seven
But if it helps them sleep at night
Keep my prison cell locked up tight
The plane’s exhaust fumes shit on the EPA
Babies are crying and cracking my skull
Drunken lunatic tries to give the latch a pull
Horny ass couples suck on faces and tits
Flight attendants’ short fuses are blown to bits
The Air Marshal fell asleep on the job
Get me out of here, I’m ready to sob
I’ll swan dive to the streets of London
Or to France for some Paris lovin’
Parachute to the beaches of Mexico
Pancake on the deserts of Texas, NO!
Anywhere is better than the airplane
Even hell starts to sound a little bit tame
The high winds will cut me to shreds
At least I’ll have my own graveyard bed
I’ll take matters into my own hands
If this plane doesn’t want to fucking land
Chuck the dipshits out of the airlock
Drag them by their greasy coach hair locks
One by one the angels fly to heaven
Or they splat at the seven-eleven
Or they’re floating on the whale road
Silence has become their only code
Oh, my word, I’ve become a flight risk
Pain in the neck like a broken cervical disk
TSA might have to pat my ass down
I’ll leave a present, something warm and brown
They say I might cause another nine-eleven
I can’t even fly a seven-forty-seven
But if it helps them sleep at night
Keep my prison cell locked up tight
May 3, 2022
Office Space
MOVIE TITLE: Office Space
DIRECTOR: Mike Judge
YEAR: 1999
GENRE: Comedy
RATING: R for language
GRADE: B
It feels weird watching this movie during the Great Resignation. Everybody in America is figuring out how bad their jobs are, so they’re leaving for higher ground. Monotony, low pay, uncaring bosses, lack of opportunities, these are all perfectly valid reasons to hate a job. The audience has no problem living vicariously through the main character, Peter Gibbons, who hates his white-collar job so much that he becomes an aloof slacker. What is he going to do for money? Well, that’s where you’ll have to watch the movie and find out. Whatever it is, it certainly won’t be crunching numbers at a pointless job. Building sympathy for the little guy is something this movie does well. It’s a shame it didn’t fare well at the box office, but its status as a cult film is more than deserved.
But if the movie is that good at making comedy out of a corporate miasma, then why am I giving it only a B grade? Surely, I could learn to hate work just as much as Peter Gibbons, Michael Bolton, and Samir…whatever his name is, right? As true as that might be, I only laughed a handful of times when I watched this. It could be my tapioca pudding brain malfunctioning on me. But if a comedy only makes me laugh a handful of times, then what’s the point? I did like Michael Bolton’s delivery as a character. I did like the courtroom dream that Peter had. I did like the…actually, I liked the…and wouldn’t you know it, my tapioca pudding brain with electricity inside can’t think of another instance where I let out even a little bit of a chuckle. Maybe my brain is so fried that I only have an appreciation for darker comedy, I don’t know. In any event, I didn’t laugh as often as I should have and that’s going to bring the grade down a notch.
But just because I wasn’t hee-hawing out of my chair, doesn’t mean I didn’t get any enjoyment out of watching this movie. Watching Peter, Michael, and Samir destroy a malfunctioning piece of computer equipment was so satisfying, considering my own Incredible Hulk rage towards such things. Watching Peter find happiness when he started the movie so miserable and out-of-body also made me glow like a light bulb. Listening to the gangster rap soundtrack to subdue Michael Bolton’s unfortunate name? Delicious piece of storytelling. There’s a lot of joy the average audience member can find in this movie. We’ve all had a condescending boss or teacher at some point in our lives. Rebelling against them is a fantasy everyone can enjoy no matter what level of work experience they have. “Level of work experience.” That’s a corporate buzzword if I’ve ever heard one. I’m sure Lumberg’s said that a few times off camera.
While the movie isn’t perfect by any means, it’s still appointment viewing for pretty much anybody who’s had it with corporate authority. Yes, the movie takes place in 1999 and might be a little dated in some places, but when has that ever stopped Mike Judge from predicting the future like he did with Idiocracy? Actually, he was off by 490 years, but hey, details, details. They matter about as much as a fraction of a penny. What does a fraction of a penny have to do with this plot? Watch it and find out. It’ll be yet another piece of anti-corporate satisfaction. I promise you. This movie gets four stars out of five, a B for Bureaucracy, and an 85% save progress bar. Seriously, you stupid computer, hurry up and save the files!
DIRECTOR: Mike Judge
YEAR: 1999
GENRE: Comedy
RATING: R for language
GRADE: B
It feels weird watching this movie during the Great Resignation. Everybody in America is figuring out how bad their jobs are, so they’re leaving for higher ground. Monotony, low pay, uncaring bosses, lack of opportunities, these are all perfectly valid reasons to hate a job. The audience has no problem living vicariously through the main character, Peter Gibbons, who hates his white-collar job so much that he becomes an aloof slacker. What is he going to do for money? Well, that’s where you’ll have to watch the movie and find out. Whatever it is, it certainly won’t be crunching numbers at a pointless job. Building sympathy for the little guy is something this movie does well. It’s a shame it didn’t fare well at the box office, but its status as a cult film is more than deserved.
But if the movie is that good at making comedy out of a corporate miasma, then why am I giving it only a B grade? Surely, I could learn to hate work just as much as Peter Gibbons, Michael Bolton, and Samir…whatever his name is, right? As true as that might be, I only laughed a handful of times when I watched this. It could be my tapioca pudding brain malfunctioning on me. But if a comedy only makes me laugh a handful of times, then what’s the point? I did like Michael Bolton’s delivery as a character. I did like the courtroom dream that Peter had. I did like the…actually, I liked the…and wouldn’t you know it, my tapioca pudding brain with electricity inside can’t think of another instance where I let out even a little bit of a chuckle. Maybe my brain is so fried that I only have an appreciation for darker comedy, I don’t know. In any event, I didn’t laugh as often as I should have and that’s going to bring the grade down a notch.
But just because I wasn’t hee-hawing out of my chair, doesn’t mean I didn’t get any enjoyment out of watching this movie. Watching Peter, Michael, and Samir destroy a malfunctioning piece of computer equipment was so satisfying, considering my own Incredible Hulk rage towards such things. Watching Peter find happiness when he started the movie so miserable and out-of-body also made me glow like a light bulb. Listening to the gangster rap soundtrack to subdue Michael Bolton’s unfortunate name? Delicious piece of storytelling. There’s a lot of joy the average audience member can find in this movie. We’ve all had a condescending boss or teacher at some point in our lives. Rebelling against them is a fantasy everyone can enjoy no matter what level of work experience they have. “Level of work experience.” That’s a corporate buzzword if I’ve ever heard one. I’m sure Lumberg’s said that a few times off camera.
While the movie isn’t perfect by any means, it’s still appointment viewing for pretty much anybody who’s had it with corporate authority. Yes, the movie takes place in 1999 and might be a little dated in some places, but when has that ever stopped Mike Judge from predicting the future like he did with Idiocracy? Actually, he was off by 490 years, but hey, details, details. They matter about as much as a fraction of a penny. What does a fraction of a penny have to do with this plot? Watch it and find out. It’ll be yet another piece of anti-corporate satisfaction. I promise you. This movie gets four stars out of five, a B for Bureaucracy, and an 85% save progress bar. Seriously, you stupid computer, hurry up and save the files!
May 1, 2022
Fun Guy
VERSE 1
I dance like I’m in a pool that someone dropped a toaster in
I can’t do keg stands or I’ll throw up in the garbage bin
I can’t do the things that will make you confess your sins
To the preacher man when your Sunday morning begins
I haven’t smiled a day since the Reagan administration
I haven’t made love since computer masturbation
The only songs that play for me would bring tears to others’ eyes
And wouldn’t you know it, it’s been so long since I’ve cried
CHORUS 1
I can’t be a fun guy
When serotonin runs dry
Can’t be a party animal
When I sink like a cannonball
Can’t be a fun guy
Can’t be a fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
VERSE 2
You say you’re leaving my side because I bring you down so much
You say I’m on the edge of giving myself the finishing touch
You say you need a guy who has a million in change and isn’t so strange
You say you need a guy who doesn’t come off as sad and deranged
I say don’t let the door hit you on the ass when you leave
A half-hour friendship was a lifetime filled with being deceived
I wish you well and let me tell you one thing right before you go
My depression and rejection are less than one percent of what you know
CHORUS 1
I can’t be a fun guy
When serotonin runs dry
Can’t be a party animal
When I sink like a cannonball
Can’t be a fun guy
Can’t be a fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
BRIDGE X2
I didn’t choose the darkness
The darkness chose me
I could have been a fun guy
If not for fucked up brain chemistry
CHORUS 2
I can’t be a fun guy
When serotonin runs dry
Can’t be a party animal
When I sink like a cannonball
It ain’t fun for me either
When someone else is the leader
Grabbing me by the throat
Use my blood to write a special note
Can’t be a fun guy
Can’t be a fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
Fun guy! Fun guy!
I dance like I’m in a pool that someone dropped a toaster in
I can’t do keg stands or I’ll throw up in the garbage bin
I can’t do the things that will make you confess your sins
To the preacher man when your Sunday morning begins
I haven’t smiled a day since the Reagan administration
I haven’t made love since computer masturbation
The only songs that play for me would bring tears to others’ eyes
And wouldn’t you know it, it’s been so long since I’ve cried
CHORUS 1
I can’t be a fun guy
When serotonin runs dry
Can’t be a party animal
When I sink like a cannonball
Can’t be a fun guy
Can’t be a fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
VERSE 2
You say you’re leaving my side because I bring you down so much
You say I’m on the edge of giving myself the finishing touch
You say you need a guy who has a million in change and isn’t so strange
You say you need a guy who doesn’t come off as sad and deranged
I say don’t let the door hit you on the ass when you leave
A half-hour friendship was a lifetime filled with being deceived
I wish you well and let me tell you one thing right before you go
My depression and rejection are less than one percent of what you know
CHORUS 1
I can’t be a fun guy
When serotonin runs dry
Can’t be a party animal
When I sink like a cannonball
Can’t be a fun guy
Can’t be a fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
BRIDGE X2
I didn’t choose the darkness
The darkness chose me
I could have been a fun guy
If not for fucked up brain chemistry
CHORUS 2
I can’t be a fun guy
When serotonin runs dry
Can’t be a party animal
When I sink like a cannonball
It ain’t fun for me either
When someone else is the leader
Grabbing me by the throat
Use my blood to write a special note
Can’t be a fun guy
Can’t be a fun guy
Fun guy, fun guy
Fun guy! Fun guy!
April 26, 2022
IDK
We’re not damsels in distress. We’re not Mary-Sues and Gary-Stus. We’re not femme fatales. Whether we see each other this way or not, everybody in this lifetime is a three-dimensional character. One of the many things that make a character three-dimensional is a goal or an ambition, more than one, in fact. Why do you think we’re so prepared at job interviews whenever the boss man asks us where we see ourselves in ten years? It should be a piece of cake for me to know where I want to go with my writing career. I’m living in this body, so I know where all the brain neurons lead to. Therefore…my ultimate goal for my writing career is…uh…actually, it’s…(sigh)…
IDK, which either means I Don’t Know or I Decay, depending on how often you listen to Gemini Syndrome. As a burned out, low-energy sad sap, IDK is something I say quite often when confronted with questions ranging from the most difficult to bare-bones simplicity. “What are your plans for the day?” IDK. “Where’s your brother?” IDK. “How come you don’t know?” IDK. “What do you want to do with your writing career?” IDK. That last one is how we got to this essay. There are many reasons for wanting a writing career and all of them are valid. But the trick is finding which one suits you the best. I used to think I had a grip on it all, but then expectations vs. reality gave me the world’s hardest kick in the nuts. What once were good reasons for me don’t seem logical in today’s life, especially when factoring in mental health and financial resources.
So…what’s one common reason why people start a writing career? Fortune and fame? Sure, why not. If Stephen King can build an empire of cash, surely I could too. If JK Rowling can build a throne of bones that came from transgender people…wait a minute, bad example, never mind. Surely my skills could skyrocket me into the stratosphere and have me floating in space like Major Tom from a David Bowie song. Right? Well, I hate to burst your space man bubble helmet, but the authors who do go on to become legends are in a tiny minority. Everybody’s heard of Stephen King, but hardly anybody I talk to has heard of Brett Battles, a thriller author whose work inspired me to become a born-again bookworm. Brett Battles can crank out bangers, so why isn’t he Scrooge McDucking a pool of gold coins? Because meritocracy is a myth, that’s why.
But even if I could achieve worldwide fame where everybody knows my name like a Cheers character, not all of those people are going to love me or what I do. In fact, there are going to be a lot of trolls lurking in the shadows waiting to plant suicidal seeds in my head which eventually sprout into full-on schizophrenic hallucinations. There could be thousands of five-star reviews for one of my books, but if one hideous creep tells me I should get sodomized in prison, then my brain will self-destruct and spiral into ashes. Take that one bastard’s words and multiply them across billions of people. My head could explode just from the stress alone and so could my heart. Sensory overload isn’t good for an autistic brain with multiple mental illnesses. They call it meat with electricity inside for a reason, though it’s closer to soggy bacon or tapioca pudding.
And of course, that much fame surely has to come with billions of dollars, right? I should be able to buy Twitter with that much money and tell Elon Musk to eat a dick that looks like a space rocket. But when I think about it, do I really need that much money? Is it not enough just for me to live comfortably and occasionally travel so that I can see my online friends up close and in person? Do I really need five thousand yachts and eight hundred rocket ships that look like dildos? Do I really need a limousine when a normal car driven by one of my family members would do just fine? Do I really need to attend parties full of hookers and blow, double entendre definitely intended? What about the homeless population who are struggling to stay alive? Shouldn’t they be getting low-cost housing? Shouldn’t people in general eat three meals a day and not have to worry about whether they’ll be there or not? I don’t need to be a billionaire. Nobody does. I need for the world to be happy and healthy. I need for children to have their needs met without worrying about dying. Not really a controversial stance, is it?
Okay, so fame and fortune aren’t realistic expectations for me as an author. Maybe I should focus on the love of the craft or having a positive influence on my audience. But in order for those things to happen, I have to have a bigger audience than I do now, which means opening myself up to swarms of trolls who overrun me like little zerglings from Starcraft. But if I stay in the shadows, then my work will reach nobody at all and I’ll never know if I’m having a positive influence on my audience. Yes, I could create my art and not share it at all. I could do it all just for me. But what’s the point? What kind of permanence will it have if nobody knows about it but me? Where’s my digital footprint? Where’s my immortality? I don’t want to take my writing to the grave with me, because I don’t see the point in writing it in the first place if it doesn’t immortalize me in some way. I want it to be for something. I want to make a difference in this world. Otherwise, why am I here in the first place? No, zerglings, this isn’t an invite for you to swarm me with death threats and pictures of my house.
Are there any reasons left? Did I cover them all? There could be more, but I don’t have access to them right now. I could take a quick trip to Google and find more, but we’d be here forever and a day and I don’t have that much time in my schedule. But even if the answers were readily available to me, I’d still give my typical IDK answer, which either means I Don’t Know or I Decay, depending on how badly my mind is rotting on any given day. I don’t know what I want to do with my writing career. There are pros and cons to every available reason. There is no one size fits all plan for me. But does this mean I want to give up and do something else for the rest of my life? Hell no. I want to continue. I want to keep shouting into the void with my literary skills. Even if the entire internet hates my guts because of a cave painting I created in 7 Million BC, fuck it, I’ll continue my career anyways.
But is it okay for me to have an aimless direction? Is it okay for me to be completely rudderless and constantly in zombie mode looking for the next brain to munch on? Is it okay to prioritize my mental health over fame and fortune? Is it okay to ignore the marketing part of my job knowing that the abyss will never respond to me in a meaningful way? Where do I go from here? I could just finish writing my current novel, but even once it’s over, then what? Do I write another hoping that one will rejuvenate my career? Do I write another poetry collection? Another short story collection? Do I just keep writing and writing in hopes that something will change? Do I even want things to change? Will I be happier when things change or will I stagnate some more? Say it with me now: IDK. Does it mean I Don’t Know or I Decay? Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely yes.
IDK, which either means I Don’t Know or I Decay, depending on how often you listen to Gemini Syndrome. As a burned out, low-energy sad sap, IDK is something I say quite often when confronted with questions ranging from the most difficult to bare-bones simplicity. “What are your plans for the day?” IDK. “Where’s your brother?” IDK. “How come you don’t know?” IDK. “What do you want to do with your writing career?” IDK. That last one is how we got to this essay. There are many reasons for wanting a writing career and all of them are valid. But the trick is finding which one suits you the best. I used to think I had a grip on it all, but then expectations vs. reality gave me the world’s hardest kick in the nuts. What once were good reasons for me don’t seem logical in today’s life, especially when factoring in mental health and financial resources.
So…what’s one common reason why people start a writing career? Fortune and fame? Sure, why not. If Stephen King can build an empire of cash, surely I could too. If JK Rowling can build a throne of bones that came from transgender people…wait a minute, bad example, never mind. Surely my skills could skyrocket me into the stratosphere and have me floating in space like Major Tom from a David Bowie song. Right? Well, I hate to burst your space man bubble helmet, but the authors who do go on to become legends are in a tiny minority. Everybody’s heard of Stephen King, but hardly anybody I talk to has heard of Brett Battles, a thriller author whose work inspired me to become a born-again bookworm. Brett Battles can crank out bangers, so why isn’t he Scrooge McDucking a pool of gold coins? Because meritocracy is a myth, that’s why.
But even if I could achieve worldwide fame where everybody knows my name like a Cheers character, not all of those people are going to love me or what I do. In fact, there are going to be a lot of trolls lurking in the shadows waiting to plant suicidal seeds in my head which eventually sprout into full-on schizophrenic hallucinations. There could be thousands of five-star reviews for one of my books, but if one hideous creep tells me I should get sodomized in prison, then my brain will self-destruct and spiral into ashes. Take that one bastard’s words and multiply them across billions of people. My head could explode just from the stress alone and so could my heart. Sensory overload isn’t good for an autistic brain with multiple mental illnesses. They call it meat with electricity inside for a reason, though it’s closer to soggy bacon or tapioca pudding.
And of course, that much fame surely has to come with billions of dollars, right? I should be able to buy Twitter with that much money and tell Elon Musk to eat a dick that looks like a space rocket. But when I think about it, do I really need that much money? Is it not enough just for me to live comfortably and occasionally travel so that I can see my online friends up close and in person? Do I really need five thousand yachts and eight hundred rocket ships that look like dildos? Do I really need a limousine when a normal car driven by one of my family members would do just fine? Do I really need to attend parties full of hookers and blow, double entendre definitely intended? What about the homeless population who are struggling to stay alive? Shouldn’t they be getting low-cost housing? Shouldn’t people in general eat three meals a day and not have to worry about whether they’ll be there or not? I don’t need to be a billionaire. Nobody does. I need for the world to be happy and healthy. I need for children to have their needs met without worrying about dying. Not really a controversial stance, is it?
Okay, so fame and fortune aren’t realistic expectations for me as an author. Maybe I should focus on the love of the craft or having a positive influence on my audience. But in order for those things to happen, I have to have a bigger audience than I do now, which means opening myself up to swarms of trolls who overrun me like little zerglings from Starcraft. But if I stay in the shadows, then my work will reach nobody at all and I’ll never know if I’m having a positive influence on my audience. Yes, I could create my art and not share it at all. I could do it all just for me. But what’s the point? What kind of permanence will it have if nobody knows about it but me? Where’s my digital footprint? Where’s my immortality? I don’t want to take my writing to the grave with me, because I don’t see the point in writing it in the first place if it doesn’t immortalize me in some way. I want it to be for something. I want to make a difference in this world. Otherwise, why am I here in the first place? No, zerglings, this isn’t an invite for you to swarm me with death threats and pictures of my house.
Are there any reasons left? Did I cover them all? There could be more, but I don’t have access to them right now. I could take a quick trip to Google and find more, but we’d be here forever and a day and I don’t have that much time in my schedule. But even if the answers were readily available to me, I’d still give my typical IDK answer, which either means I Don’t Know or I Decay, depending on how badly my mind is rotting on any given day. I don’t know what I want to do with my writing career. There are pros and cons to every available reason. There is no one size fits all plan for me. But does this mean I want to give up and do something else for the rest of my life? Hell no. I want to continue. I want to keep shouting into the void with my literary skills. Even if the entire internet hates my guts because of a cave painting I created in 7 Million BC, fuck it, I’ll continue my career anyways.
But is it okay for me to have an aimless direction? Is it okay for me to be completely rudderless and constantly in zombie mode looking for the next brain to munch on? Is it okay to prioritize my mental health over fame and fortune? Is it okay to ignore the marketing part of my job knowing that the abyss will never respond to me in a meaningful way? Where do I go from here? I could just finish writing my current novel, but even once it’s over, then what? Do I write another hoping that one will rejuvenate my career? Do I write another poetry collection? Another short story collection? Do I just keep writing and writing in hopes that something will change? Do I even want things to change? Will I be happier when things change or will I stagnate some more? Say it with me now: IDK. Does it mean I Don’t Know or I Decay? Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely yes.
