yestoday

Hi. I have neglected this journal for a hot while (besides the sudden ONF album review that popped up last week, but that was unintentional—it was just because I got sick of cramming my sentences into tweets and, in an instinctive flurry, flung the rest of it over here).

There's reasons besides burnout on why I left this journal for dead for over a month. I wanted to provide an explanation—to the approximately zero people who are reading this. It's mostly for myself, a justification to placate my own weltering guilt and discomfort of going quiet on here without a word.

I can start from the core reason I believe I stopped: I began posting entries on here when I had my main Twitter account deactivated. I had more empty blocks of time that weren't spent on aimlessly scrolling and desperately trying to find a random mutual to interact with. Enough boredom will eventually activate one's sealed desire to do something; I suppose I channel it into the need to make. Thus, at the encouragement of my beloved friend

legofmutton, Dreamwidth word vomiting ensued. Long story short is that after the sprawling attention seeker monster in me had enough of mere cozy lurking on a private account and decided it was due time for the thrill of engagement again, I reactivated main after two months (to a grand and warm welcome, of course, because I'm so popular and funny and adored like that, obviously), and that rapidly drained my creative energy—though, along with my exhausting wallowing—to an existent yet unstable low, like the spillway side of a dam.

Alright, all those excuses are aside now. So, where have I been? What have I been up to? What can we see for the future of this journal and my Dreamwidth career? Let's take those questions one by one.

So, where have I been? (compromised)

okay i wrote like seven paragraphs here and for some reason dw decided to deleted it all im serious going to kms. jesus. you can skip this part since it kinda ruins to mood but i'll summarize it for my own sake. maybe i'll retype it.

basically i said u would expect me to be home but no we went to ocean city or somewhere near there (bethany beach) for five days (got home last thursday, got there the saturday before even tho the airbnb for reserved for friday but the money didnt go to waste bc sun bin's family and lulu got there and friday and they get to set up the house for us).

i didnt go out much but that still counts as being at a diff location. my mom dragged me out a few times. most prevalently was when we went to the boardwalk and walked… a very long time. it wasn't hot bc the sea breeze was fairly strong but i left my water bottle in the car so i was unforutnately parched. lea bought a silly crab hat and mha braclet for janet and kate that we still havent rmr to bring them—it's on lea's desk rn. the real and only good outcome of this trip was that i got cool shirts that change color under the sun bc of some cool uv light magic developed by nasa idk i didn't read the rest of the explanation. i got a pirate ship one and a compass one because they reminded me of ateez and stray kids respectively. i wanted large ones for both but pirate ship only had small and xxxl which my mom was heavily against getting.

i ended up admiring the architecture a lot over there. reminded me of when i wanted to be an architect when i was little even tho i got bored of it fast, i still think theres a bit of that in me somewhere bc i like looking at houses both interior and exterior. got lots of minecraft inspo over from those buildings i saw from the car. prob mostly hotels.

the airbnb townhouse was nice i liked the layout. it was built more vertically and horizontally. the fact that there's four whole bathrooms is kind of ridiculous, though, but otherwise, it feels like an efficient use of space. i like the window walls in the living room which is more spacious than i would imagine. i learned a bit of kino pose there vowed to learn the rest when i got home. Guess what my sloth ass didn't do?

i was also at an involuntary stop at costco on our way back home from ocean city. i was also in fallen london, spending time at the zee thanks to the current event.

let's do a spin-off of this question: where will i be?

I'll be in university. I'll be at the newly opened, hyper luxurious, hotel-like, Honors students only residential hall dorms! I'll be bolting around campus to my inconveniently located classes! but thats mostly a topic i'll save for the other sections

i will also be going to see svt on sunday and im scared i'll die getting there bc its my first time on the metro alone and even in the city alone and i hope i dont get kidnapped before i get there bc i will definitely see seventeen

What have I been up to?

A lot, and not much at the same time. I don't know; I feel like I've been unproductive as shit, but if I truly listed out every single fucking thing I've been up to since my last 记录, it would probably make anyone who tries to read this throw up before getting even halfway done. But, anyway, since I can barely remember shit, let's just start with the more prominent things and see what my brain ends up remembering from there on out, yeah?

The centerpiece of my past month: The Defenders saga. That's right; I watched all five of these dearest losers' motherfucking shows and the final little eight-piece get-together just to make sure my heart gets stabbed with the final, most painful blow. God. I love them so much now, and I'm in ruins that this month long journey came to an end yesterday. My more objective opinions on these shows can be glimpsed from my list of ratings and speed-jotted notes on shows and movies, located on Listography. Here, though, I just really need to gush and whine for a bit.

Alright, so I watched these mildly out of order. After some reasoning, I decided it would help my sanity severely to watch the shows one by one, rather than in actual release-and-therefore-chronological order. I'm not pussy enough to need to watch it all in order; pfft, I'm a Marvel Cinematic Universe Fandom Wiki frequenter and a spoilerphile! I can cover my own contextual needs! And this plan actually went fairly well for me, although there were times where slivers of doubt slid into my consciousness because of the brief moments hinged with a crazed and desperate wish to know what the full effect of getting every reference in every season would've felt like—but it was never that bad; I made it through without changing my protocol.

The strongest the temptation to do it, however, occurred when I finished Iron Fist Season 1. Then, I really wanted to watch The Defenders immediately, but I inevitably held my ground, knowing my neurologically peculiar brain would not feel happy with that later on: a pattern is a pattern, and if it gets fucked over, even by me, I will have a long several days of feeling either suicidally guilty or homicidally irritated until my brain decides to finally accept that that change.

I should probably explain the order that I watched it, now. I watched each show in whole—meaning every season—before proceeding to the next. My watch order went: Daredevil -> The Punisher -> Jessica Jones -> Luke Cage -> Iron Fist -> The Defenders. (The hyperlink for each title leads to my live-tweet thread for the respective show!)

This is somewhat conventional, yet somewhat not. I watched The Punisher a lot earlier on than most people would have, especially those watching during release. Sorry, I just like Frank? He's my little meow meow? After that, though, it begins to start making sense, of course. Every one of the Defenders' shows had a huge, gapping gap between the pre-Defenders season(s) and the post-Defenders season(s). I imagine that must have been a perplexity to those who did not know any background information on these shows and were just clicking these shows randomly. It was simply annoying to me, as I had to do a tiny bit of context digging before getting fully into the last season (or seasons for Jessica Jones). I was adamant on saving The Defenders for last, though. Finally being able to do it was a hella surreal feeling.

Point-of-view: I just finished the last episode of the last season of the last show in the saga that I've miraculously produced enough dopamine to manage to binge within a month and a half—which is something that had always required strenuous effort for me to do—and I'm now staring at my ceiling in numb disbelief that I'm done, once and for all, and that these characters and joint storylines that I have grown all too familiar with are gone and over, an existential crisis threatening the nearing end of my stream of deluded thoughts. What do I do? Watch interviews of my beloved cast, of course.

What does watching interviews of the cast grant me? The battering awareness that Finn Jones and Jessica Henwick are British. It was one after another, and with each person that began speaking, I felt one nodule more betrayed. I knew Krysten Ritter isn't British, but I was genuinely fearing for my life that Mike Colter was going to open his mouth next, and my life will once again begin crumbling down to an irrevocable state.

Where's Charlie Cox in this, you ask? I unfortunately found out about his nationality much earlier on, during my Daredevil watching era, or maybe right when I finished, when I was fucking around, Googling shit and accidentally came across Charlie's Wikipedia page. There, on the first line, in glaringly generic Wikipedia body article Arial font text, was the word "English." It was honestly a life-altering moment for me; I could not believe my eyes until I frantically dug up his recent Disney+ interview and had to believe it with my own ears instead. There was a breath of relief somewhere during that, because his British accent proved to be not as disastrous as I had been conditioned to fear for (yes, I was a Dan and Phil watcher, by in the day). It was a few moments later where I had began fully turning the blame inward. I should've known; I definitely should not have been surprised. It dawned on me how blind I was: that is the most British looking man ever.

That's all for my The Defenders saga watching experience and British actor discovery trauma for today. No, I will not begin openly thirsting for Elektra again. Those private tweets were enough for anyone to witness, including myself, and shall not be spoken of in broad daylight… at least for now, while I still have a grip on my shame and my dignity is presently intact. We'll see what happens if I actually end up writing a full review of these shows; we'll see how much degeneracy sneaks out of me then. For now, though, let's get to some even more recent stuff—less nerdy, more practical: packing for college.

Okay, there actually isn't actually much to talk about about this. I just felt like I should make note that I did that, too, since it was just at the front of my mind because I did most of it today—the day before I leave to move in. I have two duffle bags full, though one of them is only filled with like four jackets and coats. I can't wait to pull up to the dorm in the worst outfit god has ever had to lay eyes on in front of my wannabe-fashion-savvy roommate (and I mean this in an endearing and respected way, by the way, because even wanting to dress cool is already better than I could ever dream of: I've long given up, even before the trying phase).

I'm not taking much, to be honest. I can't think of anything else. I'm not big on decorating—at least I don't feel the urge to as of now—so, besides essentials, I'm not bringing anything in particular that's worth making note of here. This is with the exception of two medium-sized Squishmallows I forgot to mention earlier that I bought at an outlet near Ocean City. She's a mouse named Misty, whom I got because she has a nice name—it conveniently also reminds me of Misty Knight and Misty from Pokémon, both of whom I love. He's an orange axolotl named Nico, who likes dinosaurs and simply kind of slays—I just got good vibes from him.

Yeah, my roommate is big on plushies (she has this really cute stack of seals), so I figured I can't go there empty-handed either, now can I? What kind of bland roommate would I be—or bland as I can get for not bringing stuffed animals, despite our Discord call Minecraft sessions and our known shared derangement over Genshin Impact.

Most of my stuff is packed away, like even the little clip-on lamps I have are in the basement, so I won't forget them. This, however, leaves me at the inconvenience of having no small light source tonight. I didn't want to type all this in utter darkness because my eyes are ruined enough as they are, so I'm literally using my phone flashlight as a lamp right now. It's on the desk beside me, laying Hyojin-and-Ilhoon-side facing up sad little flashlight shining into the ceiling.

Wait a damn minute, on the topic of photo cards, I introduced my sister to the art of toploader decorating a few weeks ago, and we made some cute ass toploaders. Here are some pictures; I'll elaborate more on each one in captions underneath them. [After some thought, I've decided to just make this a separate entry.]

I don't want to continue on and on forever, but I suppose I shall end this off with a couple confessions. The first one would be that my Melody illness has worsened exponentially, and it is impossible for me to go a single day without bearing at minimum five horny thoughts about the Beats. The second confession (no BTOB pun intended) is that I'm fallen back into B1A4 missing hours.

What can we see for the future of this journal and my Dreamwidth career?

I want, with all of my heart, for this to be a flourishing blog and a creative outlet to my own silly noggin's content. The chances of that becoming a possibility being seem paltry, as my tired college student era is rapidly approaching. My schedule isn't that ridiculous, but who knows how the workload or stress levels of my six classes will be like. I also naïvely applied for a job as a physics TA (teaching assistant), and I'm severely worried about how that is going to go, since I've never had a job before.

The thing is, I didn't actually think they would accept me—since I'm a freshman who hasn't even taken that class! It's a physics course for non-majors called "The Physics of Music," which sounds interesting enough, even to me, but I have no idea what being a TA would entail. I wanted a really easy job where I could sit there and just do my homework and get paid, damn it. The CA (community assistant) job that I actually wanted a lot more, since it sounded relatively relaxing, didn't accept me. What's worse is that the TA job pays $13/hr, whereas the CA job pays $15/hr. Hello?

In all honestly, I don't even need money at the moment, and knowing how much of a hoarder I am, I probably won't even use most of what I earn. Money's not even a priority for me (though, it is an added bonus). I'm just so nervous because I'm not sure how demanding it'll be and how much time working will take out of my spare time, because I will need quite a lot of that to help be get adjusted to college life.

I'll just keep thinking of the potential benefits… Experience! Resume! Internship opportunities! Money! I guess we'll see how it turns out, but I somehow have a bad feeling brewing in my gut. I'll choose to ignore it, though, which may or may not domino into either something terrible or something great. I don't know. I really don't know. I suppose I could always ask to quit if it really starts killing me, but if it's really bad, then I'm not sure I'll have the strength in me to do even that. The first thing you should do when you walk into an uncertain and untraversed path is to make sure you have an escape route, but what happens when you're not sure when you're too far in that the escape route can't be reached?

Then, say I do have time—say university shenanigans doesn't clog up my journaling time or drain my creative energy or deplete my motivation reservoir. What would this blog be filled with then?

I had the horrific idea of possibly posting my WIPs on here. That sounded like an awful idea the moment it manifested in my head, and the temptation simply grew. I'll still need some time to mull over that, though.

I'm seriously ridiculously insecure about my fictional writing, and no matter how many inspirational "you owe your writing to no one; just write for your own self-fulfillment" quotes I see (and even wholeheartedly agree with), I simply cannot get it into my own head for some reason. There are some euphoric times when I think my writing is fucking ingenious, and then, the next minute, I can't even stand looking at the Google Doc file without feeling the atrocious embarrassed heat.

Any time I show my writings to anyone—even if they react positively—it ends in humiliated regret, though sometimes that feeling decides to hit days later. I'll look back at their 'positive' reaction and animalistically pick apart every word they said about it and find ten million inconspicuous undertones of merciless criticism. Logically, I know that simply cannot be true, but whatever is inside of me, controlling my every neuron and synapse, doesn't seem to believe it. Whatever it is tries relentlessly to look for hidden messages and underlying meanings in literally anything said to me. It thinks everything is aimed at me like I'm special and that people are secretly giving me special treatment, for some reason. It's ridiculous; I'm pretty fucking certain that whatever that thing is that resides in me is schizophrenic.

Well, I hope this can accurately illustrate the struggle of my evident want to do try this out and my simultaneous reservation on it, all the same. Once again, who knows which struggle will win in the future! Stay tuned on Dreamwidth user yestoday to find out!

In a perfect world, I would also post a full review/breakdown/commentary of The Defenders saga, because oh yes, I'm not done. I do, in fact, have way more shit that I could say about that series—way more I can rhapsodize over, sob over, complain over, rage over. I would go over every character, if I could.

It's this sheer amount of material I have tucked away and could spew out at any moment that quietly demotivates me, since I just know that, realistically, my share of time and my single-sitting attention span would unlikely ever be able to align sufficiently and ideally enough for me to be able to get everything down. It will be a notion to think about, though! If those two dire factors really do serendipitously sync up, then oh shit, do you all have an overwrought Marvel fanatic's storm coming.

In a perfect world, I would also finally finish up that god damned review of Minhyuk's BOOM album that I've had lying in the drafts incomplete for months—since the week the album dropped, to be specific. Yes, yes, I teased it a bit too much for something that I disappointingly lost a hard-to-find focus on halfway through. I have hopes that it will one day be published here, though.

With BTOB in mind, this brings us to possibly the last topic of this three-hour-long-and-counting-because-I-will-probably-end-up-spending-another-two-hours-on-formatting-the-images essay: Sungjae's upcoming drama. I will most definitely be watching it, but I also came to the idea of capitalizing off of that—not for money, but for my own satisfaction of filling this Dreamwidth journal!

See, okay, I've had many qualms about watching another high school K-Drama after True Beauty traumatized my poor, poor decaying brain to the psych ward and back.

But, it's Sungjae. Come on, Sungjae is the lead. Sungjae's sexy ass is the male lead, and for someone who has still not watched any of his other dramas yet, what kind of a self-proclaimed-and-exhibited Sungjae simp would I be if I don't give into this temptation of this funky little forbidden fruit of WEBTOON-based high school dramas…

And then, I saw the official poster—and Yeonwoo also looked hot as hell in that red dress. It was over for me then, sorry, but I will be popping in for this live on September 23rd. (Just kidding, I'm rational and will wait patiently to watch it with subtitles.)

Supposedly, though, both Sungjae's and Yeonwoo's characters are insufferable—that's what I heard from a mutual who's read the WEBTOON. My hypothesis is that I will either find a way to be fervently in love with them anyway because they're sexy, or I will simply have to relive the crippling anguish I withstood like a prideful scientist in Antarctica when I forced myself go through with True Beauty despite it's… unenjoyable shortcomings.

Also, the new trailer for Golden Spoon was released today, and it actually looked so intense; I was shocked. Now, I'm going to say something very bad, so I suggest you turn away now if you're not into horrible shit, but why was Sungjae getting beat up kind of hot. This is going to be like an upgraded version of the scene of Changsub bullying him in Way Back Home M/V. I'll be thinking about that some more tonight. Goodnight.

Or, this journal may never be active again! This could be my very last public post, for all we know. The future of this journal and my Dreamwidth career could be dead by today's sunrise, and I would never know while I publish this.