Kiimigi - "living In The In Between Moments"

"What, you still don't know?

That boy has rank and power second only to the queen"

the kitchen in autumn

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I finally get to post a preview for my piece for @inkedfairytales

I got assigned to 1001 Nights and even though they encouraged us to think about of the box, I admit you've got to squint to recognize mine. I came up with a post-cannon type thing. It involves a hut in the desert, a mute character, a really tall jinn and human sacrifices. (I had to cycle through 5 ideas before settling, everybody else's ideas are so good!)

This zine was so fun to be apart of and filled with so many fantastic pieces! I'm so hyped to see how everything turns out!

 Extract:

“It’s not a good story to tell, little mouse.”

Almost as if to apologize, Ra picked up the book again and started reading. Ra had a way of forming words, his voice deep and mellow, blending with the turn of the page. Ebbing and flowing, the story drifted around him like dragging notes. Ra looked over the top of the cover as he read.

“I was a king once,” Ra didn’t say it like it was a story. He said it like a memory, bittersweet on the tongue. “They used to come to me. I’ve helped raise a city out of the sand. I’ve known the feeling of bringing armies victory. I’ve known the maddening years of darkness, waiting, seconds turning to centuries in darkness.”

Thoughts melted away as a familiar warmth settled over him, radiating from Ra like the afternoon sun. It felt like smoke coiled in his mind, slowed down and sluggish. Bo’s eyelids raised and lowered. He watched with dull entrancement as the colored shadows cast by the hanging lanterns first glittered and spun then morphed and arched into dancing figures that twirled and skipped across their walls, moving in tandem with Ra’s story. Bo’s eyes sagged then fogged. In the state in between sleeping and waking, his vision blurred, he saw Ra’s skin darken then shift. What are you?

Something fell then shattered.

Let’s have more inconveniently weird characters in 2019

I want more characters who’s quirks haven’t been romanticized a gazillion times.

Oh shyboy#42728 sits alone at lunch with his sketch book? He’s a brilliant artist but he doesn’t talk to anyone? What a weirdo.

Imnotliketheothergirls#123567889 has a passion for reading unlike every other girl in her school?

Nah man. Let’s spice things up, i want more neurodivergent characters with wack (but healthy) coping methods. let’s normalize and romantisize the fact that some people are weird and this is not a bad thing.

I’m talking about that boy who talks to people he’s made up when he’s upset. He introduces each of them to the girl he likes and she thinks it’s cute.

There’s a girl that counts her steps and once she reaches 22 she can breath again. Her girlfriend walks with her.

They know ASL and sign the first letter of people’s words to deal with nerves. Their partner now knows how to sign their name.

When he thinks he might cry he looks for something blue to hold and/or chew on. His boyfriend gives him blue chew necklaces and they learned how to make blue food together.

It’s 2019 and being weird is not a negative trait, and all you funky kids deserve to feel loved because of it.

it’s wild to me that there are people who don’t have stories constantly popping up in their heads

Autumn (1973) dir. by Marcel Hanoun

the most heartbreaking part of hamlet really is the whole “goodnight sweet prince” part because when horatio says “and angels sing thee to thy rest” he is using the intimate form of thou, and it’s the first time he ever does it. hamlet consistently uses the intimate form of thou for horatio (only when they’re in private though, which – if shakespeare intentionally wanted to give their relationship homoerotic subtext, which he totally did – shows that hamlet wants to keep his romantic love for horatio a secret to the greater public) but horatio, being the respectful person he is and also given the fact that if he were to use the intimate form of thou it would pretty much be a romantic confession, never ever uses thou. except when after hamlet dies. when it’s too late. 

here hamlet is, dying in horatio’s arms, asking horatio if he ever held him in his heart. and horatio doesn’t get a chance to reply. hamlet dies. only then does horatio realizes his mistake of not confessing sooner

The mourners

I finally get to post a preview for my piece for @inkedfairytales

I got assigned to 1001 Nights and even though they encouraged us to think about of the box, I admit you’ve got to squint to recognize mine. I came up with a post-cannon type thing. It involves a hut in the desert, a mute character, a really tall jinn and human sacrifices. (I had to cycle through 5 ideas before settling, everybody else’s ideas are so good!)

This zine was so fun to be apart of and filled with so many fantastic pieces! I’m so hyped to see how everything turns out!

Extract:

“It’s not a good story to tell, little mouse.”

Almost as if to apologize, Ra picked up the book again and started reading. Ra had a way of forming words, his voice deep and mellow, blending with the turn of the page. Ebbing and flowing, the story drifted around him like dragging notes. Ra looked over the top of the cover as he read.

“I was a king once,” Ra didn’t say it like it was a story. He said it like a memory, bittersweet on the tongue. “They used to come to me. I’ve helped raise a city out of the sand. I’ve known the feeling of bringing armies victory. I’ve known the maddening years of darkness, waiting, seconds turning to centuries in darkness.”

Thoughts melted away as a familiar warmth settled over him, radiating from Ra like the afternoon sun. It felt like smoke coiled in his mind, slowed down and sluggish. Bo’s eyelids raised and lowered. He watched with dull entrancement as the colored shadows cast by the hanging lanterns first glittered and spun then morphed and arched into dancing figures that twirled and skipped across their walls, moving in tandem with Ra’s story. Bo’s eyes sagged then fogged. In the state in between sleeping and waking, his vision blurred, he saw Ra’s skin darken then shift. What are you?

Something fell then shattered.

prophecy class cancelled due to foreseen circumstances