Charles Bukowski/Soul Food Poetry

It’s been literal months and I’m still finding new reasons to be mad about the Supernatural series finale. Like firstly Dean died on one of John’s old hunts(John, the man who repeatedly says hunters don’t bail on hunts in his journal) when Dean was so close to getting out of the life. Then there’s the fact that dean was suicidal and they tried to play his ending off as some sort of success story? The death of a suicidal character, especially when that death is avoidable, is never a success. In what world did they think that was an okay thing? Not only that but the bullshit they pulled with Cas just pisses me off more because, like it or not, he became a main character. Even if they had just used his voice, they should’ve shown he was back in some other way than Bobby just going “Well Cas helped”. After 12 years I refuse to believe that they don’t have a voice recording of “Hello Dean” or something. If COVID was the issue it could’ve very easily been fixed by taking old audio and using that. 

Content warning: suicide

Oddly enough, the last song on the first BTMI! album technically predates the band itself, as Jeff recorded parts of “Future 86” with the Arrogant Sons Of Bitches. Probably the saddest song on the album, “Future 86” has a similar structure to “Sweet Home Cananada,” but it drops the ska rhythm for a different strum pattern more commonly associated with solo ukulele music. Lyrically, however, it’s far more devastating than anything on an Eddie Vedder solo album. “Can I stop my life so I could jut be with you?” the song begins, as if it’s going to be a tender, romantic moment; but just as life goes on, the song continues, refusing to paint any kind of oversimplified pretty picture of the consequences. Jeff jokes about embezzling his band fund, admitting that this would “destroy what he has made” – a melancholy reflection on what you might leave behind as the price of a stable relationship. Even then, there’s no guarantee things will work out: after he sings of moving to New York, he imagines: “We’ll start to fight when I start to resent you, / And we’ll both agree the thought was nice, but I should not have stayed.” In classic BTMI! fashion, this is juxtaposed with humour, as begins the verse that kicks of this rhyme scheme: “Say the word, and I’ll put my guitar down, / I’ll be sad, but at least we’ll both get laid.”

The song ends on a kind of plea for some sign that can help him make his decision to stay or go: “Tell me something awesome, / That can last my whole life sentence in the van, / ‘Cause I’m on the SS Bullshit Dreams to nowhere, / And I’ll probably never see your face again.” And the first repetition of this plea signals the count-in for a roaring wall-of-sound barrage of distorted bass, guitars, a horn section and more, ramping up the cathartic tension between indecision and finality carried by the song’s simple-yet-unforgettable melody. It all comes together with a chorus of “around 100” (according to Jeff’s notes) kids repeating that chorus in unison at the finale. It’s an arresting moment, and I’m not sure if there’s a better last song on any other BTMI! Album. In fact, it worked so well as a final song that this was chosen as the last song the band played at their last-ever show before breaking up in 2014.

In many ways, this song has followed me throughout my life. After listening to it obsessively when I finished Album Minus Band for the first time in 10^th grade, it returned to me at the end of high school as I began to reflect on what would happen to the bonds between me and my friends if we moved to different cities in the future. I learned the guitar chords to it at some point and haven’t forgotten them (well, maybe I need a little prompting sometimes) since – it’s become a bit of a sing-along among my friend group from that time. I played it at the end of a relationship with a girl in university, which I can see in hindsight was really cringe-y; but I can’t say it didn’t help me get my feelings out. I played it again at what I thought was going to be the end of another relationship – but thankfully that one has worked out OK so far!

Last year, a friend of mine from those high school days who was also a big fan of BTMI! killed himself. At a memorial gathering in his backyard with a few other friends from those days, I brought my guitar and we sang a bunch of songs from that time in our life, including Wingnut Dishwashers Union’s “Fuck Shit Up!” and, of course, “Future 86.” And now that song has one more layer of resonance for me.

Content warning: suicide

Oddly enough, the last song on the first BTMI! album technically predates the band itself, as Jeff recorded parts of “Future 86” with the Arrogant Sons Of Bitches. Probably the saddest song on the album, “Future 86” has a similar structure to “Sweet Home Cananada,” but it drops the ska rhythm for a different strum pattern more commonly associated with solo ukulele music. Lyrically, however, it’s far more devastating than anything on an Eddie Vedder solo album. “Can I stop my life so I could jut be with you?” the song begins, as if it’s going to be a tender, romantic moment; but just as life goes on, the song continues, refusing to paint any kind of oversimplified pretty picture of the consequences. Jeff jokes about embezzling his band fund, admitting that this would “destroy what he has made” – a melancholy reflection on what you might leave behind as the price of a stable relationship. Even then, there’s no guarantee things will work out: after he sings of moving to New York, he imagines: “We’ll start to fight when I start to resent you, / And we’ll both agree the thought was nice, but I should not have stayed.” In classic BTMI! fashion, this is juxtaposed with humour, as begins the verse that kicks of this rhyme scheme: “Say the word, and I’ll put my guitar down, / I’ll be sad, but at least we’ll both get laid.”

The song ends on a kind of plea for some sign that can help him make his decision to stay or go: “Tell me something awesome, / That can last my whole life sentence in the van, / ‘Cause I’m on the SS Bullshit Dreams to nowhere, / And I’ll probably never see your face again.” And the first repetition of this plea signals the count-in for a roaring wall-of-sound barrage of distorted bass, guitars, a horn section and more, ramping up the cathartic tension between indecision and finality carried by the song’s simple-yet-unforgettable melody. It all comes together with a chorus of “around 100” (according to Jeff’s notes) kids repeating that chorus in unison at the finale. It’s an arresting moment, and I’m not sure if there’s a better last song on any other BTMI! Album. In fact, it worked so well as a final song that this was chosen as the last song the band played at their last-ever show before breaking up in 2014.

In many ways, this song has followed me throughout my life. After listening to it obsessively when I finished Album Minus Band for the first time in 10^th grade, it returned to me at the end of high school as I began to reflect on what would happen to the bonds between me and my friends if we moved to different cities in the future. I learned the guitar chords to it at some point and haven’t forgotten them (well, maybe I need a little prompting sometimes) since – it’s become a bit of a sing-along among my friend group from that time. I played it at the end of a relationship with a girl in university, which I can see in hindsight was really cringe-y; but I can’t say it didn’t help me get my feelings out. I played it again at what I thought was going to be the end of another relationship – but thankfully that one has worked out OK so far!

Last year, a friend of mine from those high school days who was also a big fan of BTMI! killed himself. At a memorial gathering in his backyard with a few other friends from those days, I brought my guitar and we sang a bunch of songs from that time in our life, including Wingnut Dishwashers Union’s “Fuck Shit Up!” and, of course, “Future 86.” And now that song has one more layer of resonance for me.

These clowns are literally writing their own circus music at this point.

Like, they’re here trying to claim that I’m making all this shit up and that Bucky didn’t really do anything and that this is all fake.

But like, even THAT falls flat. They say they have evidence, then don’t provide it….then they claim that it’s me….and the part that is tragic and hilarious at the same time is…

If you’re here, and you think someone is literally faking something about THIS serious of a subject online, IF you had any fucking empathy, you’d be pissed.

Like this isn’t something people should think of “faking”. This shit is extremely triggering and traumatizing. You don’t fake this shit. And what’s funny is they LITERALLY could have tried to paint me as the bad guy by going “OMG MACK HOW DARE YOU FAKE SUCH A SERIOUS SUBJECT HOW COULD YOU?” but they couldn’t even DO that.

Because doing that means you have to think about other people and have some FUCKING empathy.

Not to mention on their shitty posts where they’re literally just liking and reblogging THEMSELVES it’s super obvious that a majority of the people liking and reblogging are in fact…sock accounts. And if you even look at the content of WHAT they reblog, it’s similar. Like…

The anons type the same fucking way too! Prose that obviously indicates someone who cannot speak good english. Akward punctuation like adding an extra space or two before a question mark. Not seperating “no one” with a space. It’s literally fucking obvious. And the fact that they’re wasting their time literally trying to legitimize themselves is SO sad.

Like it’s literally just sock accounts, a few paywallers who pay attention to the socks I guess…and then like…maybe 3-4 actually real people who somehow believe shit like this based on little to no proof and speculation.

They’re even here like “my account is 7 years old I can’t be a sock” like….bitch….there’s literal marketplaces where people sell aged social media and gaming accounts to people who want to look legit. You think that isn’t a thing? Trust me. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen black markets in some other gaming communities. I’m a veteran of that shit. Miss me with that excuse.

The harrassment has gotta stop. And sadly these folks are NOT going to stop until the community rallies together and does something, or they manage to kill somebody and receive the full LEGAL consequences of their actions. Because that is what they have shown they are willing to do. Because they have $$$$$ in the game and we all know what crazy shit people will do for money.

SIMBLR CANNOT STAY SILENT ANY LONGER ABOUT BULLIES.

TW: suicide/self harm below the gif

The TRANS MAN (Bucky) that Cowbuild misgendered and deadnamed….who Cowbuild has continually insisted is me, and doesn’t exist. [When there is PLENTY of evidence otherwise] has been constantly harrassed by anon haters since coming out and speaking his part about how Cowbuild abused him. Because it IS abuse.

Bucky was vulnerable with the community and spoke openly about having a very rare disease that makes him vulnerable to wanting to hurt themselves. He shared how Cowbuild’s words DEEPLY affected him. He shared how he wants Cowbuild to remove the transphobic and hateful comments. And he stood up against his bully and abuser.

Then, he comes to this community, a community he thinks will understand what he has gone through, and he makes a simple request for help using a gofundme in relation to two sick puppies. He offers, the ENTIRE TIME to provide proof if needed, and tells people they don’t have to give if they don’t want to. One of his puppies ends up passing away, which is a heartbreaking thing for any pet owner to go through. Again, he offers proof of this.

Instead of understanding, he gets CONSTANT hateful comments in his ask box, with people using anons and burner accounts. People accusing him of trying to scam for money using a fake story. And even people telling him to hurt himself, and suggesting ways to take his life.

All while simblr was silent.

This is the lowest the community has ever come. I have been reblogging, and tagging, and screaming and trying to get people to listen and only a few people have had the nerve to remotely say anything. I am making this post hoping it’s becauase people don’t understand the situation, rather than they don’t care because it doesn’t “effect” them.

The most recent post on bucky’s (@victimofcowbuild’s) tumblr is written by his husband. Because Bucky cannot post at the moment. Because they attempted to harm themselves last night and are not mentally able to handle being on tumblr. I am not going to go into the details of WHAT happened, but I do want simblr to know that between all of the anon hate, and people not speaking up and telling the bullies to stop it this is the result.

The breaking point came when someone decided to circumvent Bucky’s ask box and send an ask to @littleblackbooksims calling Bucky a scammer. Bucky then posted a screenshot of their vet bill, leaving the name of the vet uncensored. Telling people they could call the vet’s office and confirm if a dog with the name “Fleetwood” was treated there. I have confirmation from Bucky’s husband that the vet’s office was spammed with harrassing calls. The vet’s office has record of this, and is keeing record of it. Bucky’s husband also allowed us [bucky’s friends] to make statements trying to raise awareness in the community as long as we were respectful.

I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT THESE ANON ACCOUNTS AND ASKS THAT HAVE BEEN PESTERING BUCKY ARE PART OF THE PRO-PAYWALL MAFIA GROUP THAT WE EXPOSED.

1) Because Bucky did not receive anon hate until he started calling out Cowbuild and sharing his story.

2) Because some of these SAME accounts that have been circumventing anon asks being turned off are the same accounts that tried to blackmail me and bully me when I spoke out. They have been harrassing me for a while now.

3) Because this is the M.O of the paywalling side of the argument. I have been dealing with anon/sock account shit for almost 2 years now.

I AM BEGGING YOU SIMBLR, PLEASE REBLOG AND SHARE THIS. LET THE COMMUNITY KNOW THAT THIS IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS NO LONGER PAYWALLS VS NO PAYWALLS. THIS IS NOT CREATOR VS CONSUMER. THIS IS NOT ALPHA VS MAXIS. THIS IS NOT POINTLESS DRAMA.

THIS IS SOMEONE’S LIFE ALMOST ENDING BECAUSE TOXIC ASS PEOPLE IN THE COMMUNITY DECIDED TO HIDE BEHIND ANON ASKS AND SOCK ACCOUNTS AND BULLY THEM.

You can hate me and what I stand for, you can not care about CC, you can think simblr drama is fucking pointless. But this is not drama. This is someone’s life being put in danger because of fucking internet bullies. And we need to put a stop to it and show support and awareness. Please. You can disagree with everything else I say and STILL show support for Bucky.


I am going to put screenshots of some of the comments that were directed at Bucky below the warning gif below. Some screenshots bucky shared with myself and others, others are screenshots from friends, a few are my own. Please do NOT view them if you could be triggered. For your own mental health.

A/N: There is self-harm and character death ahead so read with care.

~~~~~~~~

Taekwoon POV:

This day had started out so great. After kissing his fiancé goodbye, he managed to make it to practice on time, coffee in hand. Practice flowed smoothly, recordings flew by with little problems, and they even managed to finish earlier than expected. Taekwoon had noticed this morning that the flower shop across the street from their apartment had particularly beautiful flowers today. Managing to sneak in before they closed, Taekwoon bought a small bouquet for her. A little something to celebrate a month until the wedding.

Gazing at the flowers with a smile on his face, he failed to notice the car racing down the street.

~~~~~~

Sirens. That was the first thing he heard. ‘Phew. That was close.’

Sitting up, he looked around at everyone scrambling, brows scrunched. Getting up, he goes over to the group of people and instantly falls backwards. 

Petals were scattered in a pool of blood. His blood. His body lay mangled on the street, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the horror. 

“Sir?” A gentle voice calls.

His eyes shift to the dark cloaked figure behind him, “It is your time, I’m afraid.”

They offer their hand to him. Just as he takes their hand, Taekwoon catches a glimpse of his fiancé falling to her knees at his body. Darkness swirls around him

“No…”

~~~~~~

Taekwoon was asked to become a Reaper. A guide for souls that have past on. Rules forbid reapers from contacting any of their past lives and therefore should any of them pass away, they were assigned to a different reaper.

As he got settled, Nico, his trainer, stopped by with his uniform. They couldn’t stop chuckling to themself. Taekwoon was confused, that is, until he looked at what his uniform was. The irony stung but when he pulled out the Der Tod costume, he rose an eyebrow to Nico.

“It’s because so many mortals wanted you to escort them. Especially in this outfit for some reason,” they shrugged, “Happens to the best of us.”

~~~~~

Time flies by. He doesn’t know if a week or a year has passed. All he knows is the work that has to be done. He asks for more once he finishes the last one. Anything to keep his mind from wandering back to her.

For the first time, the Head Reaper had no assignment to give him so he had retreated to the library. That’s when Nico called to him. In the blink of an eye, Taekwoon appears next to the fellow Reaper, whose charge is hanging onto their arm, begging to the ends of the earth to not let this be the end. 

“Sorry, I know we’re not supposed to share assignments, but he’s taking forever to pass. Can you take my next one? It’s in Seoul so it shouldn’t take you long to find,” Taekwoon heard in his head. He nodded wishing them good luck.

~~~~~

When he flitted to the street near the assignment, a twinge surged in his chest. It was the street right outside his old apartment. The one where he died. His feet started to move towards the complex against his will, causing his stomach to twist into knots. His mind began to race, hoping that it was just their neighbour from the fifth floor. She had a foot out the door. Maybe it was her?

Nope. Sixth floor. Shit.

‘Did she move out? Please tell me she did.’ He closed his eyes, letting his feet guide the way. It was only when the sensation of walking through the door flitted through him that he opened his eyes. If he could scream, he would have but his voice refused to work. His legs gave out under him as he looked on in horror.

Laying there in the middle of the lounge in a pool of blood streaming from her wrists, was his fiancé. 

A/N: There is self-harm and character death ahead so read with care.

~~~~~~~~

Taekwoon POV:

This day had started out so great. After kissing his fiancé goodbye, he managed to make it to practice on time, coffee in hand. Practice flowed smoothly, recordings flew by with little problems, and they even managed to finish earlier than expected. Taekwoon had noticed this morning that the flower shop across the street from their apartment had particularly beautiful flowers today. Managing to sneak in before they closed, Taekwoon bought a small bouquet for her. A little something to celebrate a month until the wedding.

Gazing at the flowers with a smile on his face, he failed to notice the car racing down the street.

~~~~~~

Sirens. That was the first thing he heard. ‘Phew. That was close.’

Sitting up, he looked around at everyone scrambling, brows scrunched. Getting up, he goes over to the group of people and instantly falls backwards. 

Petals were scattered in a pool of blood. His blood. His body lay mangled on the street, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the horror. 

“Sir?” A gentle voice calls.

His eyes shift to the dark cloaked figure behind him, “It is your time, I’m afraid.”

They offer their hand to him. Just as he takes their hand, Taekwoon catches a glimpse of his fiancé falling to her knees at his body. Darkness swirls around him

“No…”

~~~~~~

Taekwoon was asked to become a Reaper. A guide for souls that have past on. Rules forbid reapers from contacting any of their past lives and therefore should any of them pass away, they were assigned to a different reaper.

As he got settled, Nico, his trainer, stopped by with his uniform. They couldn’t stop chuckling to themself. Taekwoon was confused, that is, until he looked at what his uniform was. The irony stung but when he pulled out the Der Tod costume, he rose an eyebrow to Nico.

“It’s because so many mortals wanted you to escort them. Especially in this outfit for some reason,” they shrugged, “Happens to the best of us.”

~~~~~

Time flies by. He doesn’t know if a week or a year has passed. All he knows is the work that has to be done. He asks for more once he finishes the last one. Anything to keep his mind from wandering back to her.

For the first time, the Head Reaper had no assignment to give him so he had retreated to the library. That’s when Nico called to him. In the blink of an eye, Taekwoon appears next to the fellow Reaper, whose charge is hanging onto their arm, begging to the ends of the earth to not let this be the end. 

“Sorry, I know we’re not supposed to share assignments, but he’s taking forever to pass. Can you take my next one? It’s in Seoul so it shouldn’t take you long to find,” Taekwoon heard in his head. He nodded wishing them good luck.

~~~~~

When he flitted to the street near the assignment, a twinge surged in his chest. It was the street right outside his old apartment. The one where he died. His feet started to move towards the complex against his will, causing his stomach to twist into knots. His mind began to race, hoping that it was just their neighbour from the fifth floor. She had a foot out the door. Maybe it was her?

Nope. Sixth floor. Shit.

‘Did she move out? Please tell me she did.’ He closed his eyes, letting his feet guide the way. It was only when the sensation of walking through the door flitted through him that he opened his eyes. If he could scream, he would have but his voice refused to work. His legs gave out under him as he looked on in horror.

Laying there in the middle of the lounge in a pool of blood streaming from her wrists, was his fiancé. 

Need more ideas

I just went on a two week road trip by myself where I drove east. I explored towns, ate at local restaurants, slept in my car, and drove whenever I wanted for as long as I wanted. I had a great time and turned back only when I no longer felt the need to keep going.

But now I’m back and I’m right back where I was, mood-wise. You know how they say not to kill yourself because there’s so many things to do and see, you might as well do them first? I’m trying. I’m really trying. I don’t know what to do next though. Get a tattoo? It’s heading into winter so a lot of things aren’t options until spring/summer. Maybe learn to skateboard on the warm days? I’ve always been afraid of both hurting myself and looking silly, but who really cares now?

Anyway, some ideas would appreciated, if you have any. I’ve already tried rock climbing and sky diving.

transfemmbeatrice:

“I don’t think that I accepted that I wasn’t gonna die young until I was 26 or 27. I really don’t think I fully…when I was 14, 15, 16, 17–I mean I knew as sure as I know that I am wearing green shoes that I was going to die before much happened. It was a certainty for me. And I had shaken off the directly suicidal urge by the time I was 21 or 22, but I still was pretty sure I was going to die pretty young, it really felt like an inevitability. It takes a long time to realize no, you’ve changed…if you shared those feelings with people at some point you go, ‘well, I guess we’re going to stick around.’ And it’s a funky thing to admit because there’s a part of your inner younger self that kind of judges you for that.”

John Darnielle fucking me up with the single most relatable thing he’s ever said

There was an article in Vox about a similar issue, where both you AND society agree you’ll probably die young, and how weird it feels when you just…don’t.

https://www.vox.com/platform/amp/first-person/2018/2/19/17017976/autism-average-age-death-36-stress

“I’m autistic. I just turned 36 — the average age when people like me die.”

update no one wants:

now that I am not paralyzed by rage over the current state of affairs my personal life has decided to punch me in the face….well heart…jung hoseok would never treat me this way, just sayin

I wanted to surprised yall with a RRR update this weekend but I spent it crying over a man instead…I know….you don’t have to say it, I know

Anyways here is a sneak peek from RRR and seokjin ghostie story:

—

Oh god, your head is pounding. You lift your head up from the soft pillow placed underneath, nice silk sheets underneath you. You roll across the ground like a worm, realizing your stiff limbs are not cooperating how you want them to because you have your hands tied behind your back, legs tied at the ankle.

You see intricate wooden fixtures and colorful tapestry and pastel satin draped across your body.

Oh my god, did you time travel?! Have you become the main character in your own historical K-Drama?!

—

TW: mention of attempted suicide

You went home. There was not much else you could do, so you just…

went back…

home. 

…like nothing happened, like you just stopped off to run an errand instead of trying to throw yourself off a bridge.

You quietly stepped out of your shoes for the second time tonight, put your keys down next to your purse and your now not needed suicide note and took out a glass from the cabinet. You reach for the bottle of whisky on top of your refrigerator and down a full glass. 

…and another.

You laughed after the third glass, you cried after the fourth, you could swear you saw that annoying man again after the fifth.

And then you slept like the dead.