Cursive writer

Handwriting

2011.09.27 04:58 k2cougar Handwriting

A place for redditors to improve, share, and discuss their handwriting.
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2010.08.09 01:37 willhopkins fountain pens

/fountainpens - A community for fountain pen enthusiasts, from the novice to the collector. Please join our discord server while we are shut down in protest of the recent Reddit API changes: https://discord.gg/pendemic
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2024.06.09 14:28 prfegt Current inked #1

Current inked #1
Not a collector, almost all my pens are inked.
Not in the table and not inked are 4 pens: one was a company gift (not good), one low end steel and metal Waterman and a couple of Jinhaos: one has a Fude and another an architect (long knife) that I will ink later for sure.
I plan to do this regularly (will not post here, relax). Yesterday I cleaned the 4 pens to store, they were previously inked.
I don’t have many inks, all are presented, missing Pilot black that came with Plumix; I plan to buy a brownish/orange to contrast with my most used blue. Thinking on Ancient Copper, Pelikan Brilliant Brown, Writer’s Blood or Chocolate Brown. Not in a hurry, but I will need a matching pen 😀.
Is 11 pens permanently inked too much? I’m still learning…
I still think I’m not a collector as saida above: I like to USE them, to WRITE with them and probably to learn a bit of calligraphy. I started recently to try to make my handwriting legible again (was not).
What I’ve recently learn: . Pen section size for me: Minimum - 10mm Maximum - 13mm (phasing out the Jinhao 9019) This is more important than model/brand . Flex nibs Maybe they are not for me, or I need first to master it, having a stub allows line variation and flare to my handwriting ina much easier way I do not regret my FA nib, it has a lovely soft nib and the aftermarket ebonite feed increases flow, very wet and very nice for normal writing (but you have to control your hand) . Nib size I prefer bigger and wetter nibs Still prefer smooth and wet nibs+feeds, more important than nib size
What’s next? Pens: Cheaper side: . some big nibs for each color (X159) to be always inked at home, . a thinner for detail (9013). I tend to prefer silver trim, not always available.
on the not so cheap: . maybe FC Hexo . a Pilot Prera to use the Plumix cursive italic nib (Plumix has some issues too me: looks are divisive and sometimes I screw the body instead of the cap)
Expensive side: 1. I don’t need, really 2. I’m creating a dangerous soft spot for Pelikan Souverain, for the size must be at least M605 unfortunately (preferably M805)
Thanks
submitted by prfegt to fountainpens [link] [comments]


2024.06.04 16:00 ReconPanda13 Need advice/help

Hello my fellow penthusiasts! I have been using fountain pens for years now. However, I do not consider myself an expert. I just purchased a Pilot VP with 18k medium nib. I got it at a great deal. I will be primarily using this as my everyday writer at work. I am generally writing on crappy paper. Think cheap copy paper. Is there an ink that would be better suited for this pen & paper combo? I ordered Pilot Asa-GAO ink cartridges. I would prefer cartridges for the ease of use at work, but am not afraid of bottled ink.
Second part. I am definitely considering getting the nib ground to a cursive italic to have a little flair. I would also be willing to purchase a new nib unit to be ground as well. Given the Pilot VP and crummy paper combo, what is everyone’s recommendations, thoughts, ideas?
Thanks in advance Pen Pals!
submitted by ReconPanda13 to fountainpens [link] [comments]


2024.06.03 21:13 scud80 [US-CA][WTS] Matte Blue Kakari, Skogsy, MZG2, Bees Knees, Custom 823, Vac700R, Tamenuri Studio, +others and 10 nibs

Timestamp: Pens, Pens - open, Nib close-ups 1, Nib close-ups 2
Free shipping in the USA. International shipping at cost.
 
Pens for sale:
The first four of these are listed without nibs; one came that way and the other 3 I no longer have the nib they came with. You’re welcome to buy without a nib and use your own, or I have a selection of custom grinds with a few stock mixed in below you can add. I can take closeup pics of anything if you need them.
$150 - Skogsy - Baby Saguaro Turquoise crackle acrylic [B] - Bought new - no nib - takes Jowo #6. Comes with Skogsy single-pen sleeve by Rickshaw.
$145 - Leonardo - Momento Zero Grande 2 Baobab acrylic [D for no nib, otherwise B] - Bought new - no nib, takes Jowo #6. Original packaging included.
$120 - Franklin-Christoph - Pocket Model 20 Diamondcast Blue LE [D for no nib, otherwise B] - Bought new - no nib, takes Jowo #6. Original packaging included.
$95 - Karas - Vertex Black Delrin w/translucent purple section [D for no nib, otherwise B] - Bought new - no nib, takes Bock #6. Original packaging and converter included.
The following all have nibs:
$625 - Kyuseido - Kakari Matte Blue LE [B+] - Bought new - 14k Gravitas-branded J6 BB, Sankakusen grind by CY. Original packaging included. Writing sample
$350 - Tamenuri Studio - Cigar Red/Orange Tamenuri Ishime [A1] - Bought new - SS M nib. Very nice tactile finish on this one. I can swap the nib for one of the B6 Custom Nib Studio ones below for $20 extra (they both have the Tamenuri Studio logo). Includes converter.
$225 - Tailored Pen Company - XL Cigar Bees Knees with metal Bee rollstop [B+] - Bought new. No nib, takes Bock #8. I don’t have a B8 nib to sell with this right now, though I do have a FNF non-converter clear acrylic Jowo #6 feed in Bock #8 housing available if you want to eyedropper fill it.
$200 - Pilot - Custom 823 Amber [B+] - Bought new - 14k B nib. This was filled once (w/Diamine), and is in excellent condition. Box/papers included. Also willing to sell the body+cap without the nib+feed for $100.
$150 - Cypress - Diamond Cut Black/white cellulose similar to Wild [A1] - Bought new - SS F nib. This turned out to be too small for me, so it’s unused. Very nice material and interesting faceted design. Box/papers included.
$95 - TWSBI - Vac700R Iris [B] - Bought new. SS F nib ground to cursive italic by Custom Nib Studio. Very nice writer, but I’m not really using F nibs any more. Packaging included. Writing sample
$90 - Kaweco - Art Sport Hickory Brown [B+] - Bought used. No visible wear. M stock nib, or I can swap with F from another pen. Includes packaging.
$30 - PenBBS - Model 355 Dark Paint [B] - Bought new - SS F nib (stock). Original packaging included.
Pen bodies:
$50 - Pilot - Custom 742 Black/gold NO NIB [parts] - Bought new and unused and still has the FA sticker on it. All I did was remove the nib to use elsewhere. No converter included.
Nibs for sale:
Bock #6:
$60 - Bock #6 - Steel - F - Mark Bacas Blade Writing sample $50 - Bock #6 - Steel - BB - Tamenuri Studio branded - Custom Nib Studio Perspective (not as broad as you'd expect from BB) Writing sample $40 - Bock #6 - Steel - M - Tamenuri Studio branded - Custom Nib Studio Left Oblique Writing sample $30 - Bock #6 - Steel - BB - CA Pen Show ’24 branded - stock $20 - Bock #6 - Steel - B - stock
Jowo #6:
$180 - Jowo #6 - Steel - B - Hooligan Pens Happy Face w/texturing - Mark Bacas LOCI Writing sample $75 - Jowo #6 - Steel - BB - California Pen Show ’24 branded - NibLab Naginata-togi Writing sample $60 - Jowo #6 - Steel - BB - Mark Bacas Blade Writing sample $50 - Jowo #6 - Steel (gold tone) - F - Custom Nib Studio Left Oblique $20 - Jowo #6 - Steel - B - Lotus branded - stock
submitted by scud80 to Pen_Swap [link] [comments]


2024.05.30 21:18 chonkshonk RESPONSE: Refutation a moderator from 'AcademicQuran' makes an enormous blunder

After stumbling across two old posts targeting me (I avoid direct linking to prevent brigading but the title of those posts is reflected in my post title), I thought I'd dismantle them, their representation of my comments, and their discussion of the sources they mention.
A question I discussed with an apologist in the past is if Jahiliyyah narratives are correct in depicting the Jahiliyyah as largely illiterate. The apologist claims the "Jahiliyyah" only refers to late pre-Islamic Arabia (though many traditionalist definitions put it much further back). For the sake of argument, we'll look at literacy in the late pre-Islamic Hijaz. During this conversation, I brought up a statement made by Ahmad Al-Jallad:
The abundance of written records in Arabia suggests that writing was widespread among both settled people and nomads (Figure 7.2); however, its function among both groups was quite different. Macdonald (2009: vol. 1; 2010) established an important distinction between literate societies and non-literate societies based on the role of writing for the functioning of society. Ancient South Arabia exemplifies a literate society. Its officials set up thousands of public inscriptions, recording their deeds, dedications to deities, legal decrees, and so on. The existence of public inscriptions, however, cannot stand as witness to widespread literacy among the general population, as they reflect the work of professional scribes and highly skilled masons. As Stein has pointed out, the wording of even the most personal letters suggests that the sender did not compose the text himself himself, and that recipients were not expected to read them. To explain this, he hypothesized the existence of scribal centres where documents were composed on the behalf of their authors. On the other hand, Macdonald draws our attention to another category of inscriptions in South Arabia that intimates widespread knowledge of reading and writing graffiti. Unlike commissioned inscriptions, graffiti are informal works of individual expression, and as such, must be carved by the author. The existence of thousands of graffiti in South Arabia, always composed in the monumental and only rarely the minuscule script, suggests that a sizable segment of the population could employ writing for informal purposes. The use of the monumental script rather than the day-to-day script of the wooden sticks could have been symptomatic of the medium and need not imply that knowledge of the minuscule hand was more restricted. The evidence for the major oasis towns of North and West Arabia is not as plentiful. Nevertheless, after a close and skillful analysis of the material, focusing mainly on the appearance of inforrmal letter forms and ligatures in the inscriptions, Macdonald concluded that the settled populations of these areas also belonged to literate societies and, as in South Arabia, large segments of the population knew how to write, and presumably, read (2010: 9 –15). (Al-Jallad, "The Linguistic Landscape of Pre-Islamic Arabia," pp. 116–117)
Takeaways:
The apologists response to this reference was to assure me that Al-Jallad (the worlds top authority in this field) is misunderstanding the earlier work of MacDonald (keep in mind that MacDonald was Al-Jallad's mentor and they're in direct contact with each other). He says MacDonald's real opinion is that "Arab culture was in all important respects fundamentally oral" — just like in the Tuareg tribe (!), where the ability to write is widespread but only employed for informal purposes. He goes on and on — but as it turns out, Stephen Shoemaker made the same mistake as this apologist did in his book Creating the Quran. For this reason, we turn to a correction from another paper: Marijn van Putten: "The Development of Hijazi Orthography," Millennium (2023). This is a major and original study demonstrating pre-Islamic Hijaz was a "literate" society in MacDonald's sense:
a number of idiosyncrasies ... all point to a single conclusion: Not only has the Arabic script had a long and storied history, it is clear that there was a formalized system of scribal practice with significant sophistication and idiosyncrasy that must have been present and developed already in the pre-Islamic period. This challenges the notion that the pre-Islamic Hijaz was a “non-literate” society as for example Stephen Shoemaker would have it.⁷⁰ Neither the Quran, nor the pre-Islamic inscriptions of the centuries leading up to the rise of Islam, show the kind of ad hoc non-literate literacy as one sees among the Tuareg or may hypothesize for the nomadic pre-Islamic Arabic writers that employed the Safaitic script. Instead, there was a formalized scribal practice that required formal education to properly execute according to the existing norms.⁷¹ (pp. 125-126)
So Van Putten finds that the late pre-Islamic Hijaz was literate and Van Putten is clear that his conclusion is meant in terms of MacDonald's categorization of a literate society and not just widespread ability to write but only employed for informal purposes like with the Tuareg tribe. Van Putten goes on in fn. 70: "[Shoemaker] cites Michael Macdonald to make this point. But one must stress that Macdonald is not talking about the Hijaz of the 6th century but rather the Nomadic writers in the South Arabian scripts. See Macdonald 2010: 5–28; Shoemaker 2022: 125." In other words, the Tuareg analogy is irrelevant and at best concern nomadic Arab tribes until the 4th century.
The user also made a second post with roughly the same title. He claims I misunderstood Juan Cole's comments about literacy in the late pre-Islamic Western Arabia because Cole was describing Islamic-era 7th century inscriptions. Yet Cole specifically concluded: "the Believers were keeping the suras as parchment or papyrus pamphlets even in the time of the Prophet", implying an established practice of writing already existed. Since the apologist fails to grasp the relevance of these and similar 7th-century inscriptions, I quote fn. 71 of the earlier paper by Van Putten:
One may further note Petra Sijpesteijn’s observation that early Islamic Arabic administrative formulae from the very beginning of Islam are distinct from the Greek ones (even in bilinguals) and are not calques. This seems to suggest an already established administrative practice. See Sijpesteijn 2020: 468.
Al-Jallad similarly says:
Thus, the growing body of pre- Islamic evidence strongly indicates that the use of Arabic for administration in the early Islamic period does not reflect an ad hoc invention, but the continuation of an established tradition of administration in Arabic which must have its origins in North Arabian and Syrian scribal practices. ("The Linguistic Landscape of pre-Islamic Arabia," pg. 119)
From the recent AMA event this subreddit has had with Hythem Sidky, we have the opinion on this subject now by yet another significant expert. I asked Sidky: "What are your thoughts about literacy in the pre-Islamic Hijaz?" Sidky responded:
It's hard to put concrete numbers on it. But based on both the cursive nature of the script itself and the inscriptions, they were literate in the ways the matter. Also, Quranic codices don't strike me as that community's first attempt and producing a book. And if you look at the text of the Quran itself (in contrast to hadith), there are verses that strongly suggest we're looking at a sufficiently literate culture. Emphasis on writing down deeds and contracts, etc..
In another comment, Sidky also wrote: "I think the Meccans had a scribal school."
And that concludes this post. The late pre-Islamic Hijaz was a literate society, so-defined as a society with an established tradition of writing that is employed in fulfilling formal societal functions. Thus, Jahiliyyah characterizations late pre-Islamic Arabia as illiterate or even with MacDonald's category of non-literate are historically inaccurate.
submitted by chonkshonk to AcademicQuran [link] [comments]


2024.05.29 15:19 VisitTheCosmiko The Art of Not Screwing Up Your Audio Drama: 5 More Essential Tips for Indies

Okay. I'm back with more tips and insights to help you improve your craft. Some of you may be thinking, "Oh great, another armchair critic telling me what I'm doing wrong." As someone who's spent years behind the scenes on numerous audio dramas, I've seen my fair share of mistakes. But let's get real - the landscape has changed, and with it, the quality of some productions has suffered. And I'm not just talking about rookie errors - I'm talking about established producers and creators making the same blunders over and over again.
Now, I'm not here to tear anyone down. I'm here to offer guidance and share my expertise. After all, I've recently gone indie myself, and let me tell you - the studio formula is tougher than ever. You need to be on your A-game if you want to stand out in this oversaturated market.
So, read on if you want to take your audio drama game to the next level.
1. Reverb? Great. Overused Reverb? Instant Disaster
Think of reverb like makeup: a little goes a long way. Drenching your audio in it won't hide bad recording quality, it'll bury your entire production beneath a muddy quilt of echoes and delays. Use reverb strategically to enhance specific soundscapes, not as a crutch for shoddy audio.
2. Mono? More Like No. (Got 'em)
Seriously, folks. We have stereo support on all major platforms for a reason. Don't subject your listeners to a flat, one-dimensional experience. Embrace the power of stereo to create a more immersive and engaging soundscape. Even if your audio drama is a "found tapes" thing recorded in the 1880s on wax cylinders. Use stereo, and enjoy the flexibility it'll give you while mixing. Then you can decide if you want to keep the stereo width or not.
3. Your Audio Drama: Not Device-Specific
Headphones, car stereos, kitchen speakers – your listeners will be everywhere. Yeah, 90% of them will be in the car or using headphones but don't drop the ball. It's easy to forget about it and let your stellar mix become a distorted mess. I'm guilty of this. I think, "Dang, this sounds great!" But my headphones are ripped from a studio setting. Chances are the common listener doesn't have that luxury. So, make life easy for them. Test your audio on various speakers to ensure it translates well for everyone.
4. Footsteps: Make Decisions Early
This one's a personal pet peeve. About 70% of audio drama footsteps sound bad. What do I mean? I mean the same stock sound effect mixed poorly. I'm not joking, when I listen to audio dramas for business or pleasure, I keep a bingo card of the same free-to-use footstep sound effects. It's that bad. So, the remedy? Open a sandbox soundscape in your editing software of choice and don't close it until you have a footstep reel that sounds perfect. Make the decision early. Decide on the attack, sustain, and EQ, and stick to it. This will save you so much time and will avoid the muddy, low-end footsteps I hear all the time.
5. The Script? A Blueprint, Not a Bible
Things change in the recording booth all the time. Don't be afraid to adapt the script for the sake of a better performance. Characters might sound different, pacing might need tweaks – that's okay! Embrace collaboration and be flexible. This one's for you, writers. I've seen so many writers burn bridges by not being flexible. (And some of them are still in the business, even after some incendiary texts and middle school drama.) I'm here to tell you that you can be passionate and professional. The script is a starting point, not a holy text etched in stone. If you're part of a team, be a team player--a cornerstone to hold up the ziggurat that is your audio drama.
Fun fact: I was jokingly called "Ben Franklin" by an old co-worker in the studio because I wrote my notes in cursive and used old idioms. We had a tussle over a stupid decision. I got fed up and wrote on the whiteboard: hang together, or hang separately. It was true, so I drafted a compromise that took into account the interests of both parties. I came into the studio weeks later and learned that someone had dropped out. They didn't want to compromise. To this day, the drama is incomplete and will remain that way. RIP.
So, there you have it. I hope that by sharing my expertise, I can inspire some growth and improvement in the community. Now, I need to get back to work on my own projects, I've got some exciting news brewing, and I'll be sharing more about it soon. Stay tuned for updates. Later.
submitted by VisitTheCosmiko to audiodrama [link] [comments]


2024.05.27 21:58 TobyeatsfAtcoW RTD Challenge #48 Tracklist

Good morning/afternoon/evening everyone! RTD Challenge #47 tasked you with redesigning a layout to remove a bad chicane by replacing it with a new, better, and safe option. Judged by u/I_Hate_Monza_T1 , here are the results!:
Best In Show: Buddh Circuit Redesign - RTD Challenge #47 by u/SunGodnRacer
Honorable Mention: Highland Motorsports Park first chicane removed (RTD Challenge #47) by u/Schmuckiiii
Moving on, our next challenge prompt consists of picking a musical album, using its runtime as the length (example below) and the number of tracks as the number of corners.
The prompt writer decided to remain anonymous. They will still be judging your sumbissions.
Tracks must be submitted before the deadline and use the RTD Challenge flair
RTD Challenge #48 will end on Sunday, June 9th, 2024 at 11:59:59 CDT. (countdown)
Want to have a say in creating the next prompt? submit yours here!
submitted by TobyeatsfAtcoW to RaceTrackDesigns [link] [comments]


2024.05.27 05:10 starting_to_learn Taylor Swift and the Confessional Poets Department: An Anti-Hero's Confessional Journey from Midnights to TTPD

Taylor Swift and the Confessional Poets Department: An Anti-Hero's Confessional Journey from Midnights to TTPD
Taylor Swift’s music has long been branded “confessional.” When people call Taylor’s work “confessional,” they might mean that her music is emotionally confessional. But when it comes to Taylor Swift, this belief that her music is emotionally confessional is closely tied to the belief that she is delivering an autobiographical accounting of her life through her lyrics. Her music is perceived as grounded in real events and real people, peppered with “clues” that, if followed, will lead you to the True Story she is telling.
Interesting to consider in light of TTPD, the term “confessional” as applied to art actually has its roots in poetry. The confessional poets were a small group in the late 1950s-1960s who changed the face of American poetry, shifting towards a much more personal, autobiographical style. They included Robert Lowell, Anne Sexton, and most well-known today, Sylvia Plath - amongst others. The central breakthrough of their work was in “removing the mask” that had previously hidden the poet from view in their work. The confessional poets grounded their work in their own personal experiences and laid bare the most intimate details of their inner lives, delving into “taboo” subjects like mental illness and childhood trauma. This was seen as a major change for poetry to be so grounded in the poet’s interior life and personal history as the explicit subject. These poets became literary celebrities with much attention paid to the details of their personal lives - or in Plath’s case, her death.
After falling down a rabbit hole learning about the confessional poets, I believe that Taylor drew inspiration from this group on TTPD and crafted the album, at least in part, as a meditation on the concept of “confession.” I think her treatment of confession on TTPD is multi-layered - simultaneously pulling back the curtain towards a sincere unveiling of inner truth, while also, on a more meta level, examining what it means to create confessional art and, more broadly, what it means to confess. I’d argue that TTPD is all at once a personal act of confession, a performance of confession complete with a clue package so on-the-nose People Magazine only needed a day to crack it, and - if you’re keeping an ear out for those red herrings - a subversion of the expectations for confessional art. Which, as it turns out, is not so different from what the confessional poets themselves did.
After examining TTPD through this lens, I also revisited Midnights - and I hear the beginnings of this confessional journey stirring on that album, laying the groundwork for TTPD. Within the 321 “exile ends” countdown theory, this means that she began this confessional journey at 3 (Midnights) and ramped it up at 2 (TTPD). Where do we go from here? She just might be on the road to confessing her truth in swooping, sloping, cursive letters.
So, my fellow Gaylors, if you’d like to join me down this rabbit hole - I stand before you with a summary of long-ass dissertation on my findings!
Disclaimers:
  • I was inspired to do this research based on initial connections between TTPD and Sylvia Plath I've seen percolating (i.e., these posts), plus the Ted Hughes poem, Red, that Florence posted as "recommended by Taylor.”
  • I am not an expert on the confessional poetry movement. I learned a lot through my research for this post, and I'm sure I've still barely scratched the surface of this rabbit hole, so I'd welcome anyone with more expertise who can build on these connections!
  • My main goal in this post is to analyze Midnights and TTPD through this confessional lens. When drawing connections to the confessional poetry movement, I’m going to deal with the movement broadly and focus on how this work was collectively understood, perceived, and talked about - both by the literary establishment and by these poets themselves. Dealing in broad strokes means I’ll be missing nuance in the specifics of each poet, and it is not my intention to mischaracterize any of their work. It’s just the only way to keep the post manageable.

What is confessional poetry?

The term "confessional" was first used to describe Robert Lowell's Life Studies, which was considered a "tell-all" on his troubled youth and ongoing mental health struggles. In his review of Life Studies, M.L. Rosenthal defined confession as an act of “removing the mask.” He wrote, “[Lowell’s] speaker is unequivocally himself, and it is hard not to think of Life Studies as a series of personal confidences, rather shameful, that one is honor-bound not to reveal.” (Source)
Robert Lowell became the top literary celebrity of his time, and the confessional genre the most popular genre of poetry. Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton were Lowell’s students at Boston University and this group all drew inspiration from one another. While the trope of the tortured artist certainly predates this group, it’s notable that, for these poets, “tortured” was and is a central part of how the public understood their identities as artists. Interestingly, Lowell, Plath, and Sexton were all hospitalized (repeatedly) at the same psychiatric hospital, McLean Hospital in Massachusetts, and wrote about their experiences. Plath wrote of her experiences there in her famous novel The Bell Jar. One of Lowell’s most famous poems, Waking in the Blue, was written based on his experience at McLean. McLean was described as “America’s most literary hospital” in this article from The Atlantic titled "The Mad Poets Society."
There is a complicated legacy to the term “confessional” in art, beginning with these poets. Most of them absolutely hated the term. There was a sense that it reduced their art to a mere regurgitation of feelings without craft. There was a tendency to treat their work as very literal autobiography, to reduce it to a reporting of facts, though these poets themselves repeatedly said that, while their work was grounded in personal truths, it was not necessarily always literally factual. There came to be a mythos around these artists - not on the same scale as the Taylor Swift Cinematic Universe, but the parallels are there.
At the same time as artists resisted the word, the public is undoubtedly hungry for these personal confessions. Today, we need only look at Taylor Swift’s massive star power to see the draw of so-called confessional art.
Note before we move on: I’m going to use the word “confessional” throughout this post because, right or wrong, it’s the word that is commonly used to describe this type of art, and I also think Taylor is specifically playing with different meanings of the word. I don’t mean any disrespect towards the poets who didn’t like the term.

What Makes Midnights and The Tortured Poets Department Confessional Works

MIDNIGHTS: "Meet Me At Midnight"
A return to autobiographical writing was a central part of the sales pitch for Midnights. She wove this message into promotional appearances, for example the Jimmy Fallon interview where she describes Midnights as her “first directly autobiographical work in a while.” The album announcement branded Midnights “the story of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout my life.” She closes the announcement with “Meet me at midnight.” This return to direct, explicit autobiography, combined with the promise of personal revelations implied in “Meet me at midnight,” places us squarely within the confessional mode.
This messaging is especially interesting when we consider that Taylor’s previous work, with the exception of folklore/evermore, is widely considered to be a faithful autobiographical recounting of events from her life. Fans receiving this invitation to meet her at midnight might ask themselves: But haven’t we already met you? Haven’t you already revealed your innermost feelings and the private details of your life in your songwriting for years? The implication seems to be: no, you haven’t met me yet, but you will. The implication is that she is on the road to revealing herself in some new way that will invite us to truly meet her. This calls to mind the imagery of “removing the mask” from Rosenthal’s review of Life Studies, pulling back the veneer to reveal what is underneath. Pulling back the curtain, perhaps?
https://preview.redd.it/r0r6jwo3nv2d1.png?width=1018&format=png&auto=webp&s=56932d70204cb7f85bf9ecb964736595fd44c007
Importantly, it’s not just us, the public, who are implied to have not met Taylor. It’s also implied that she is estranged from herself: “For all of us who have tossed and turned and decided to keep the lanterns lit and go searching - hoping that just maybe, when the clock strikes twelve, we’ll meet ourselves.” Midnights represents her first step down the road towards meeting herself - and an invitation for us to join her.
While we did not meet her on Midnights, the songs on this album did begin to pull back the curtain. The entire concept of this album, exploring things that keep her up in the middle of the night, suggests a new kind of vulnerability. Taylor herself said of Anti-Hero: “I don’t think I’ve delved this far into my insecurities in this detail before…this song is a real guided tour through all the things I tend to hate about myself…I like Anti-Hero a lot because I think it’s really honest.” (Source) We also have Maroon and Hits Different - the two most obviously sapphic songs she’s released that she herself classified as “autobiography.” We have Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve, a searing exploration of lost girlhood.
Towards the end of the album and into the 3AM edition, she starts to explicitly grapple with the concept of confession. Interestingly, Taylor has not used the word “confess” that often in her discography. Midnights contains two mentions of the word, the most of any TS album at the time of release.
The first mention comes in Mastermind when she says: “No one wanted to play with me as a little kid / So I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since / To make them love me and make it seem effortless / This is the first time I’ve felt the need to confess.”
Mastermind closes the standard edition of Midnights on this note - that this is the first time she’s felt the need to confess, signaling a new type of revelation. In this context, she is playing with legal imagery. She’s been scheming like a criminal, and now she is confessing to the “crime” of masterminding her career to make everyone love her.
Then we transition into the 3AM edition, which contains even more themes of confession. We get our second use of the word on Paris, where she longs to confess her truth: “I want to transport you to somewhere the culture’s clever / Confess my truth in swooping, sloping cursive letters.”
Finally, the 3AM edition closes on Dear Reader. While she does not explicitly use the word “confess” here, she is very much operating in the confessional mode. The bridge, in particular, recontextualizes the entire album as an act of confession. She describes the songs on Midnights (“these nights” that she wanders through) as the “desperate prayers of a cursed man spilling out to you for free.” She is spilling confessions out to us on this album in the form of desperate prayers. And then she makes a further confession - “you wouldn’t take my word for it if you knew who was talking.” She begs her audience not to take her at her word, to instead hear her “desperate prayers” and see what she is “hiding in plain sight.” Dear Reader is arguably the most confessional song on the album - and it tees us up perfectly for TTPD, where she will take these confessions even further.
THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT
“Confession” is a word with several meanings. I believe that Taylor is exploring all these different meanings of the word on TTPD:
  • Most broadly, a personal intimate revelation
  • A religious sacrament: the confession of sins
  • A legal statement: confessing to a crime
It’s apt, then, that the term “confessional” was first applied to Lowell because he existed at the intersection of all definitions of the word. His struggles with mental illness were well-known in the literary community. He was a Catholic convert. And he was well-known for having served time as a conscientious objector to WWII. The other poets who came to be dubbed “confessional” tended to share some of these traits with him - a lengthy public struggle with mental illness, a preoccupation with religion, and/or brushes with the law. These subjects were explored in the confessional poets’ work.
I’m going to focus below mainly on how TTPD is exploring these different facets of confession. There are layers to the treatment of confession on this album. I would argue that TTPD is all at once a sincere act of confession; a performance of confession, targeted to the public; and a subversion of that performance in the form of “red herrings.”
She is so productive, it’s an art! Let’s dive in.
CONFESSION AS “REMOVING THE MASK”
The confessional poets pushed the boundaries of what you could say in a poem. Particularly at the time, the topics they were known for writing about were considered quite taboo and improper - and this was part of what made this “breakthrough” new and exciting. Consider this quote from Sylvia Plath, then an up-and-coming poet, and how she describes Lowell and Sexton’s work:
I've been very excited by what I feel is the new breakthrough that came with, say, Robert Lowell's Life Studies, this intense breakthrough into very serious, very personal, emotional experience which I feel has been partly taboo. Robert Lowell's poems about his experience in a mental hospital, for example, interested me very much. These peculiar, private and taboo subjects…I think particularly the poetess Anne Sexton, who writes about her experiences as a mother, as a mother who has had a nervous breakdown, is an extremely emotional and feeling young woman and her poems are wonderfully craftsmanlike poems and yet they have a kind of emotional and psychological depth which I think is something perhaps quite new, quite exciting. (Source)
On TTPD, Taylor is similarly pushing the boundaries of what you can say in a song - and she is certainly pushing the boundaries past what she has previously said in a song. She is delving deeper into the most intimate and painful elements of her interior life, evoking imagery and subject matters the confessional poets are known for with lyrics like:
  • “I was supposed to be sent away / but they forgot to come and get me / I was a functioning alcoholic / til nobody noticed my new aesthetic”
  • “If I can’t have him / I might just die, it would make no difference”
  • “Stitches undone / two graves, one gun”
  • “I want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me / you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me”
  • “The hospital was a drag / worst sleep that I ever had”
In addition, Taylor delivers some of her most explicit lyrics on Guilty as Sin. We have unbridled rage in Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me, The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, even the way she calls out “the most judgmental creeps” on But Daddy I Love Him. We also have a healthy dose of homicidal ideation with lyrics like: “Your wife waters flowers, I wanna kill her” and “I did my best to lay to rest / all of the bodies that have ever been on my body / and in my mind, they sink into the swamp.” “Is that a bad thing to say in a song?” she asks. She says it anyway. The mask is off.
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CONFESSION AS A RELIGIOUS SACRAMENT
Art as a Sacred Catharsis: “This writer is of the firm belief that our tears become holy in the form of ink on a page. Once we have spoken our saddest story, we can be free of it. And then all that’s left behind is the tortured poetry.”
The word “confession” calls to mind the religious confessional, where one confesses their sins to be absolved of them. In the Catholic tradition, it’s only through confession that one can be free of their sins, achieve holiness, and re-establish communion with God. Sin constitutes a separation from God; confession allows for “wholeness.”
The above excerpt from Taylor’s post about TTPD evokes this religious imagery, where writing music is the act of confession. Our tears become holy when we shed them as ink on a page; when we confess our saddest story, we are free of it. TTPD is that act of confession - a sacred catharsis.
She spells this out on the album’s concluding track, The Manuscript, where she describes the catharsis of channeling agony into art. Once she’s confessed this story, she is free of it. It isn’t hers anymore.
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In this religious context, TTPD as an act of confession implies the existence of a sin to be confessed. She explores this theme heavily on the album - what it means to be guilty as sin and what it means to be holy.
Love as Holiness: “What if the way you hold me is actually what’s holy?”
The true nature of holiness and sin is a major theme on TTPD - contrasting traditional notions of holiness and sin against how the author defines these words for herself. While this theme is absolutely rampant on TTPD, it’s not the first time a TS album has asked these questions. This theme blossomed on Lover before reaching new heights on TTPD.
On Lover, her love is positioned as sacred. She sings on Cornelia Street: “Sacred new beginnings that became my religion.” False God expands on this theme by drawing a contrast between this sacred love and the concept of a “false god” - an act of idolatry, a sin. She seems to say: even if they consider this love to be a sin, WE will still worship this love. We will still make this love our religion. “Confession” on False God is the act of making amends with her lover, re-establishing communion between them. “Got the wine for you” calls to mind the act of receiving holy communion, the body and blood of Christ - which, according to Catholic tradition, you are not allowed to receive when in a state of mortal sin. You must first receive the sacrament of confession before you can partake in communion. On False God, this love is her God - and they make confessions to break down the separation between them and achieve oneness.
This contrast from False God - between how others perceive her love as sinful, while she considers it her true religion - carries forward onto TTPD. On Guilty as Sin, she contrasts the “long-suffering propriety” they want from her with “the way you hold me” - and she insists this is actually what’s holy. She takes it a step further on But Daddy I Love Him. Here, she points an accusing finger back at those who would accuse her of sinfulness. She casts the Sarahs and Hannahs as the guilty ones - guilty of hatred, raising you to cage you, “vipers in empaths’ clothing.” They don’t need to pray for her because she is not the sinner. They are. This condemnation carries forward onto Cassandra, where she castigates the pure greed of the “Christian chorus line” who “never spared a prayer for [her] soul.” On The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, this man wears a “Jehovah’s Witness suit” - a predator peddling a false idea of holiness.
What began on Lover as honoring the holiness of her love transforms on TTPD into a castigation of those who would say it’s a sin. Lover is reverence; TTPD is a righteous fire of judgment sent to engulf a fallen world, a la the End Times.
https://preview.redd.it/zj1i5kefpv2d1.png?width=1170&format=png&auto=webp&s=78d67df8d85929f3f464bd3e8dfdcd329fe30c4a
So, we know what TTPD doesn’t consider to be her sin. The question remains - if she is confessing, then what is she confessing to? What sin is she seeking absolution for?
The Original Sin: “Forgive me, Peter.”
Peter is the only song on the album where we hear her ask for forgiveness: “Forgive me, Peter.” This evokes the words you would say in a confessional: “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
What is her sin? Leaving Peter behind - her “lost fearless leader in closets like cedar.” Preserved in the closet where she left him. She asks Peter to forgive her because she didn’t truly want to leave him there: “I didn’t want to come down / I thought it was just goodbye for now.” She believed that Peter would grow up and come find her, that they would be reunited - but it hasn’t happened.
The second and final time she asks Peter for forgiveness comes at the end of the song. She asks his forgiveness for turning out the light: “Forgive me, Peter / Please know that I tried to hold on to the days when you were mine / But the woman who waits by the window has turned out the light.” Here, turning out the light symbolizes giving up hope for Peter’s return.
Her sin, then, is two-fold: leaving Peter behind and then giving up hope that they could be reunited. And I’d argue that this is no ordinary sin - this separation from Peter is the original sin of the TTPD universe, akin to the original sin of Adam and Eve that separates mankind from God - the root of all suffering. On Peter, she compares herself to Adam, missing a rib: “The goddess of timing once found us beguiling / She said she was trying / Peter, was she lying? / My ribs get the feeling she did.” The implication is that Peter is the Eve to her Adam, carved out from her rib - and, in their separation, she feels the hollowness of this missing part of her. The Prophecy evokes this same Adam and Eve imagery: “I got cursed like Eve got bitten. Was it punishment?” This is a direct reference to the concept of original sin and the punishment that followed. The punishment is exile - being cast out of the garden. She can only return there in her mind (“secret gardens in my mind”).
This all gets very interesting and poignant if we posit that she is singing to a lost part of herself on Peter - that she is in exile from herself. (There have been a number of great analyses of this song through that lens; i.e., this one.) Her original sin of denying herself created this rift within her, which caused her suffering. She confesses in order to return to communion with herself. To become whole again. “Forgive me, Peter.”
This calls back to the Midnights foreword, the sense of estrangement from herself and the search to find herself: “For all of us who have tossed and turned and decided to keep the lanterns lit and go searching - hoping that just maybe, when the clock strikes twelve, we’ll meet ourselves.”
Importantly, in the Christian tradition, the crucifixion/resurrection was God’s answer to original sin, building a bridge for humanity to once again be one with God. So, these lyrics from Guilty as Sin are quite relevant here: “What if I roll the stone away? They’re gonna crucify me anyway.” The willingness to be crucified in the name of rolling the stone away - revealing this reborn version of herself - is the answer to original sin. Rolling the stone away is how she meets herself. And, in this context, rolling the stone away is, in essence, confession. It’s removing the mask, revealing what lies underneath. It’s exiting her tomb of silence.
Is TTPD the act of confession that will bring her back to herself and allow her to return to the garden? God, I hope so.
CONFESSION AS A LEGAL STATEMENT
I said earlier that while I think TTPD is a sincere piece of confessional art, I also think that it is intentionally crafted as a performance of confession. By this I mean - TTPD is crafted to give the people what they want and expect from confessional art, particularly Taylor Swift’s confessional art. And what do the people want? They want the scoop. The gory details of her personal life. They want her to name names and tell them exactly what went down. In other words, they want to trace the evidence.
The performance of confession on TTPD hinges on the evidence she feeds the audience and how she directs us to use it. To understand this performance, we have to explore how TTPD navigates the third definition of the word “confession.” It’s time to go to court.
The Hearing: “At this hearing, I stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.”
Since announcing TTPD, Taylor has been teasing the concept of this album as a hearing. She spoke of “entering into evidence.” She presented the artifacts. And now here she is, standing before the public, making a “plea of temporary insanity.”
https://preview.redd.it/v7fuuh2rqv2d1.png?width=532&format=png&auto=webp&s=90e3c98b43f02dfd592c21f6fa664fdcb443d689
This imagery introduces yet another layer to the concept of this album as “confessional.” Here, we are in a courtroom, and she is confessing to a crime. She is presenting us with the evidence to support her plea.
I think there are two layers to the courtroom imagery. The first is the defendant herself trying to make sense of the losses she has sustained, sorting through the evidence. Hits Different off Midnights introduces this language: “I trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleeding.” This language continues onto TTPD - i.e., in So Long London, she asks, “You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?” This is in line with how Taylor has spoken about using music to make sense of her life.
But the second layer is that this isn’t just Taylor trying to make sense of things on her own. She is confessing directly to an audience - her fellow members of the tortured poets department, the public. She is again breaking the fourth wall, like on Dear Reader.
Importantly, this courtroom imagery bookends the listener’s experience of the album. It served as the audience’s first introduction to the album at the start of the promotional cycle. And she closes the album with this imagery via the epilogue poem. The whole album is framed as a court hearing.
This is fascinating within the context of the Taylor-verse because this framing directly parallels the way the public engages with her music. Her lyrics are treated as a factual, autobiographical accounting of her life (particularly her love life), which the public scours for evidence in an investigative mission to uncover the True Story she is telling vis-a-vis what we know of her personal life. And her music is, in fact, often reduced to an investigation into her love life. To most media outlets and fans, analysis of a Taylor Swift song seems to mean examining which man the song is about. The lyrics serve as evidence, rather than art.
So, when Taylor tells her audience that she is entering something into evidence, we are primed; we know what to do. Time to pull out the magnifying glass and every pap photo of Taylor taken in the last two years. It’s interesting, isn’t it, that she gave us so much “evidence” to work with over the course of the last year? So many public sightings of her to expertly match up with the lyrics on TTPD. Not to mention the Eras Tour as an opportunity for non-stop Easter egging. She presented her information-hungry audience with a veritable buffet of evidence to pick through and match up with the album.
And the album itself is chock-full of “clues” linking lyrics back to real-life figures in the TSCU. She already knows that her audience will follow those clues; it’s what happens every album cycle. But this time she doesn’t just lay the bait and wait for everyone to take it. She lays the bait and tells us to take it. She says that she is entering this evidence for us to review. She stands before us with a summary of her findings. She directs us to conduct the post-mortem.
When was the last time she so brazenly invited speculation? I’d argue that this brings us right back to the beginning of her career, hiding secret messages in the liner notes and directing her audience to decode the messages to find out who or what the song was about. She said she wanted people to read her lyrics. But the end result was that people read her lyrics without really reading them. Her lyrics that she was so proud of were not treated as art. They were reduced to clues, evidence linking the song to this man or that. And we need only read the Reputation prologue to know how she came to feel about that:
https://preview.redd.it/0opkr8marv2d1.png?width=394&format=png&auto=webp&s=4fc76f89e5394b97875169984579eafa2c5bc958
So, it begs the question - Why is she directing her audience to follow the trail of evidence she laid out? Why evoke the language of the courtroom if she doesn’t want her music to be paternity tested in the court of public opinion? Why enact this performance of confession that seems to play directly into the public’s worst impulses?
Well, you know what they say: if it feels like a trap, you’re already in one.
Red Herrings: “And so I enter into evidence my tarnished coat of arms; my muses, acquired like bruises…”
Along with teasing the concept of TTPD as a court hearing from the very beginning, Taylor also introduced the suggestion of “red herrings” the same day she announced the album. This is no coincidence. A “red herring” is both a literary device AND a rhetorical device used in legal settings to distract or divert attention away from the main issues of the case. (Source) So, red herrings are a perfect fit for an album that centers on confession, playing in sandboxes both literary and legal.
https://preview.redd.it/lvabm4tqrv2d1.png?width=444&format=png&auto=webp&s=f2a7e65afb36575e2525cc726445c9a1e33b91dc
If you’re in this corner of the internet, you likely believe that Taylor has been using red herrings in her work for quite some time as a tool to obscure and distract from her real-life muses. Naming a song “Style” is a perfect example of how she might very overtly hint at a public-facing muse in order to distract from the true inspiration. But, importantly, no matter how obvious we think these past red herrings were, TTPD marks a first: the first time she has explicitly pointed to red herrings in an album as part of the promotional cycle. The Rep prologue took us halfway there with the assertion that everyone who tried to paternity test the songs would be wrong. But now she’s saying: I am entering this evidence for you to review, but the evidence itself contains red herrings. I am planting evidence that is going to lead you to the wrong conclusion. Again: If it feels like a trap, you’re already in one.
Why do this? Why intentionally misdirect and then TELL us that’s what she’s doing? I can only assume that she wants us to see it. If she directs her audience to trace the evidence and tells us there are red herrings - well, then we will look for the red herrings. Or at least some of us will. And if we look closely enough, we’ll find them.
thanK you aIMee is a perfect example. There are three layers here: First, we have the subject of the song identified as Aimee. Then we have an old-school Taylor “hidden clue” in the title of the song - capitalizing letters to spell out Kim. Everyone sees that very obvious “clue” and pats themselves on the back for “solving the case”: the song is about Kim Kardashian. But then we have this line in the song: “I changed your name and any real defining clues / and one day, your kid comes home singin’ / a song that only us two is gonna know is about you.” Seems a bit contradictory, huh? She says she changed any real defining clues, but surely capitalizing letters in the song title to spell out someone’s name is a pretty defining clue. I smell a red herring. It could be that the capitalized letters are a red herring. It could be that the line in the song about not leaving any defining clues is a cheeky misdirection meant to cast doubt on the “clue” she left. I’d argue it’s probably both. Either way, the obvious contradiction built into this particular song serves to cast doubt on the history of Easter egging song subjects in the TSCU. This song takes us right back to the early days of Easter egging, capitalizing letters in lyric books to spell out secret messages. If this is a misdirection, who's to say there weren't misdirections built into the Easter eggs from the beginning?
The Alchemy is another example. This song falls near the end of the album, the final “muse-coded” song of the standard edition of TTPD. And if you’ve been tracing the evidence through the songs up until now, you’ll find matching “clues” in this song that seem to point at Matty Healy: themes of returning to a lost love, drug references in “heroin but this time with an E.” But wait - now she’s using a bunch of football references? There’s beer sticking to the floor while your friends lift you up over their heads because you just won the big game? The football imagery is so heavy-handed that it took very little time for every entertainment media outlet in creation to post a carousel of TayloTravis images along with lyrics to the song. But if you can keep yourself from getting distracted by the “Tayvis” fanfare, you might ask yourself - what the heck is going on in this song? Is it about Matty or Travis? Is it about both of them? The inherent contradictions point to another red herring, “clues” planted to mislead. And, well, if there are misdirections about the identities of her romantic muses built into this song…then who’s to say there aren’t misdirections built into the others? Who’s to say that anything you think you “know” about the identities of her muses is true, even if she’s the one who planted the evidence? Who’s to say that she is telling you the truth?
This line of questioning cracks open the entire foundation of muse-driven Easter egging in the TSCU. Following the trail of evidence to the red herrings she planted about muse identities will lead you to question the entire enterprise of following the evidence in the first place. And I think that’s precisely the point. You’re in a trap, and she wants you to know it. Because this practice of attaching public-facing male muses to all of her work has Taylor in a trap, too. As she says in Mastermind, she’s spent her whole career “scheming like a criminal to make them love [her] and make it seem effortless.” This is the first time she’s felt the need to confess. She’s copping to the scheming, pointing us to the red herrings. She’s asking us to accept her plea of temporary insanity on account of her restricted humanity. Asking that we understand the plight of the caged beast, driven to do the most curious things.
And if we’re going to understand, then we must understand this: we’re all in a trap. If her fans are going to embrace her rolling the stone away, they have to first see that tomb of silence for what it was: a trap ensnaring us all, limiting her artistic expression, and preventing her audience from hearing the core truth in her music.
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Confessional Art: How much is confession? How much is art?

So, we’ve established these core precepts of the TTPD Universe: TTPD is a sincerely confessional album, representing a continuation of our anti-hero’s journey towards “meet me at midnight.” At the same time, TTPD is not necessarily based in literal, factual truths - and Dr. Swift has confessed that to us, too.
Is that a contradiction? Do the red herrings she planted exist in opposition to confessional art? I would argue, no, they do not.
The public’s foundational understanding of confessional art is that it is faithfully, literally autobiographical. It tells us the factual truth about the author. But just how true is that? For the confessional poets, when it came to truth in art, facts were besides the point. Consider this quote from Robert Lowell about his artistic process (emphasis mine):
“They're not always factually true. There's a good deal of tinkering with fact. You leave out a lot, and emphasize this and not that. Your actual experience is a complete flux. I've invented facts and changed things, and the whole balance of the poem was something invented. So there's a lot of artistry, I hope, in the poems. Yet there's this thing: if a poem is autobiographical—and this is true of any kind of autobiographical writing and of historical writing, you want the reader to say, “This is true.” In something like Macaulay's History of England, you think you're really getting William III. That's as good as a good plot in a novel. And so there was always that standard of truth which you wouldn't ordinarily have in poetry—the reader was to believe he was getting the real Robert Lowell.” (Source)
Here, Lowell seems to say that a core part of his artistic mission was to write poetry that would be experienced as true. He crafted his poems to deliver the experience and impression of the “real Robert Lowell.” And this is separate and distinct from delivering factual truth. In fact, he “tinkered with fact” as part of this artistic choice - to create a poem that would be experienced as true, even if it technically was not in the strictest sense of the term.
Anne Sexton made similar comments about her poems - that she did not always adhere to literal facts. In one interview, she described these untruths as “little escape hatches” so she would “always have an out.” She goes on to say: “I can tell more truth than I have to admit to because I can tell the truth and say, after all, ‘This was a lie’ or ‘Of course not all of my poems are true.’” These escape hatches, then, opened up room for her to tell more truth. Perhaps not always the literal kind, but the sincere core truth that audiences recognize and respond to as “true.”
The use of “red herrings,” then, is not in opposition to the confessional mode. Red herrings can actually enhance confessional art when changing factual details allows room for the author to share pieces of themselves that they otherwise would not. And, further, the experience of truth for the audience does not hinge on strict adherence to literal facts. The audience needs to feel that they are getting the real Robert Lowell. The real Taylor Swift.
Maybe we haven't met the real Taylor Swift yet. But I think TTPD brought us several steps closer.
submitted by starting_to_learn to GaylorSwift [link] [comments]


2024.05.24 18:41 ThereKanBOnly1 WTS - Aurora, Leonardo, Santini, Sailor, FC, Pilot, Montegrappa, Skogsy, Hardy, Newton, Mythic, Butterknife, PenBBS

Verification and images - https://imgur.com/a/SXhcApT
All prices are OBO and DO NOT include shipping. Please add $5 for shipping in the US. I am open to shipping abroad at cost. Payment only via Paypal G&S.
Please comment first then send a PM. NO CHAT! Just click here and send a PM.
For any Jowo/Bock pen, the nibs can be swapped out to your choice of a F/M/B nib unit. Nibless pens have your choice of nib included. Writing samples available on request.

Production Pens

No. Make Model Material/Color Nib Price Condition Notes
1 Aurora Optima Gialla Yellow 14k M $300 B+ An LE from 4 years ago. Nib has been swapped from an 18k to a 14k
2 Leonardo Furore Grande Purple B CSI $195 SOLD B+ Piston filler with an ebonite feed.
3 Santini Italia Libra Lava Ebonite (LE) 18k M Flexy $320 B+ Flexy nib is more like a soft/semiflex, but it has been tuned and is a fantastic writer.
4 Sailor 1911L Black 21k MF $160 B Recently tuned
5 Franklin-Christoph 20 Vintage Green 1.1m Stub $130 A- Comes the FC Pen Sleeve. Has an Opus branded nib, but can be swapped to a F/M/B
6 Pilot Custom 74 Black 14k SF $95 SOLD B Comes with a CON-70
7 Montegrappa Fortuna White (StormTrooper) M Stub $100 B

Maker Pens, etc.

No. Make Model Material/Color Nib Price Condition Notes
8 Skogzy Mesquite Conway Stewart Red Startdust F/M/B $300 B+ Wonderful material from Conway Stewart that you don't see that often these days. Has a custom clip, which you don't often see on a Skogsy pen. Has a black ebonite section threaded for a Jowo #6 AND a black micarta section threaded for a Bock #8. Also includes a handmade pen sleeve.
9 HardyPenWrites 28-C Brooks Dragon Night B Cutlass $110 SOLD B Has a roll stop. Blank is very dark, but has some areas of teal and sparkle.
10 Newton Elizabethan Dupras Belize Cenote B Stub $110 SOLD B
11 Mythic Aeschelyus Slim Brooks Mystic Soul Sucker B CI/Reverse Fude $110 B Nib was ground to a Cursive Italic and also has a down turned bend to produce Fude like strokes in reverse. Can be swapped to a F/M/B Jowo of your choosing.
12 Butternknife Bumpy Chameleon Dupras Solar Flare F/M/B $100 B Threaded for a Bock nib
13 PenBBS 500 Blue/Yellow F $15 SOLD B Uses a pump filler similar to TWSBI Go
Again, please comment first then send a PM. NO CHAT! Just click here and send a PM.
submitted by ThereKanBOnly1 to Pen_Swap [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 16:02 Mialenous Practicing Cursive with flex nib

Practicing Cursive with flex nib
Practicing my Cursive with a flexible Italic Cursive nib. Would love some feedback from other lefthanded writers. I feel that I am limited because I push more than that I drag the pen over the paper and only dragging allows for the flex. Lyrics of Broken Bottles and Chandeliers by Guy Garvey.
submitted by Mialenous to Handwriting [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 02:22 Cosmic_Quill Line variation for small handwriting?

Hi everyone,
I have a few fountain pens but all of them have round nibs. I'm coming from mechanical pencils as my usual writers, and sometimes with my wider nibs (a Jowo #6 F and a Pilot Kakuno M) I find myself trying to turn or rotate my pen to try to get a narrower line. Obviously, this doesn't work with my current pens.
Because of this, I'm trying to find a pen that would give me some line variation; I'd be open to try a stub, cursive italic, oblique, or maybe something with flex. However, I have small handwriting, and all the nibs I can find are either 1.1mm stubs at minimum, or come on very expensive pens. I've seen recommendations for Nemosine's stubs, but they no longer seem to be available, and it seems like obliques and flex are hard to come by outside very expensive or vintage pens. I'm hesitant to spend money on something like a Franklin-Kristof SIG or a custom grind to start with, but I also don't want to purchase a nib so wide it won't accomodate my handwriting. I definitely don't know what I'm doing enough to try buying vintage pens.
The only pen I have been able to find that might work is a Pilot Prera with a CM nib, but it seems like reviews of the nib are mixed with regard to everyday writing. Is it still a viable option? What are people's recommendations for getting into these sorts of nibs if a 1.1 mm stub isn't going to be useful to me?
submitted by Cosmic_Quill to fountainpens [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 02:59 Frequent-Movie8220 Can someone please grade my synthesis essay

This was about the 2021 Free-Response Questions Handwriting prompt. Just looking for # values of my thesis, evidence, and sophistication.
Although some argue that handwriting instruction is beneficial in helping students develop certain skills, to a greater extent, handwriting instruction is not needed in today’s schools because the aforementioned skills aren’t directly proportional to handwriting and the world is evolving into a society that lacks the need for such writing skills.
Handwriting instruction has no place in this globally changing society that is geared more and more towards technology. Technology has no doubt pervaded into our school systems on a global level. Kids in elementary schools are receiving chromebooks, ipads, and even laptops. This is even the case for my own situation, in which I was given a chromebook for assignments in fifth grade. However, schools have continued to implement handwriting practice into daily routines, and for what reason? The opinions are starting to sway against teaching handwriting skills, however. Teachers themselves are stating that they believe we need to do away with the practice and “move on”(Source A). It is not only an individual basis level, however, as even forty one states have implemented courses that omit cursive from their curriculum as a whole(Source A). The fact that not only individuals are rebelling against this “archaic [...] communication” but also a majority of states on a national level are doing so highlights how change is what the nation wants. Specifically, technology is making the teachings of handwriting obsolete. The keyboard allows students to be “quicker on the keyboard” and can help them be “better writers as handwriting takes up less of their education”(Source C). Others agree with this sentiment that doing away with handwriting can give more time for education in other subjects too. For example, some articles are saying that handwriting is taking away time that could be better prioritized for “essential life-skills” like finance and programming(Source E). The sentiment of teachers, editors, states, and more, is that handwriting has no place in a society that is evolving.
The supposed skills that come with teaching handwriting at our schools are lacking in direct benefits. For example, some argue that handwriting activates cognitive and fine motor skills because it requires knowing what to write and how to use motion to write as such(Source D). However, this assertion could be applied to any scenario. Say painting: it requires a vision of what to make and the skills to create the work. However, why is painting not a required curriculum in many schools? This basic line of reasoning has been pointed out by others too, with one pointing out how “playing the original Super Mario Bros helps develop fine motor skills”(Source E). Knowing where to jump or which pipe to take is the equivalent to using your cognitive skills while inputting such decisions into your controller is using motor skills. However, schools are not requiring 15 minutes a day to gaming. This comparison between handwriting and Super Mario Bros underscores how the perceived benefits of handwriting are, in reality, not inherently needed. Another point of view to highlight is that while handwriting instruction may have benefits, they are highly constrained to when one is in school. In Source F, for example, it is shown that the use of paper over technology is heavily prevalent but in K-5. In Source D, it is said that elementary-age students were found to write more during their time. However, these assertions do not take into account the realities of our society. Children are not in the growing technology-focused workforce. Children will not have the time to take such liberties when having to take quick notes in high school or college. Children will be losing out on time that could be used to develop other more important skills.
Overall, the practice of handwriting instruction is not needed in today’s schools because the overall consensus agrees with such and the supposed benefits of handwriting do not outweigh the loss.
submitted by Frequent-Movie8220 to APLang [link] [comments]


2024.05.13 22:14 Blankboo97 The Lost Women of NXIVM Part 7

Next part from The Lost Women of NXIVM:
PRODUCER: Do you have the suicide note?
HEIDI CLIFFORD (As “Anonymous Classmate”): (Reading purported “suicide note” aloud): This is a copy of the suicide note.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs, aka Nexium (sic), based out of Anchorage, Alaska and Albany, New York. I was brainwashed and my emotional center of the brain was killed and turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin, but my internal organs are rotting. I’m sorry, life. I didn’t know I was already dead.”
“No need to search my body.”
Was this potential suicide letter in Kris’s car coerced?
Was it her willingly writing it?
You don’t know."
As we have discussed in previous posts, nothing about the Kristin Snyder missing person case makes any sense whatsoever, and the purported “suicide note” found in her vehicle is certainly no exception.
Before we start analyzing the “suicide note,” here are a few factors to keep in mind:
• We know through information from multiple sources that Kristin was a prolific journal writer and letter writer, so we have a plethora of writing samples to compare with this alleged “suicide note.”
• We refer to “the writer” in our discussion of the “suicide note” below. The reason for this phrasing is because the actual writer of this note is unknown. Did Kristin herself write it, either as a explanation for killing herself, or for the purpose of faking her own death? Did someone else write it to make her disappearance appear to be a suicide? Was part of the text written by Kristin and added to by another party? Was the entire note faked? Was the note written by Kristin, but under duress/coercion as Heidi pondered?
• See notes under each section below regarding clear discrepancies between Kristin’s baseline writing style based on the hundreds of writing samples we have obtained from multiple sources through varying times throughout her life.
Now, without further ado, let’s take an in-depth look at this “suicide note” – line by line.
“I attended a course called Executive Success Programs (aka Nexium) based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.”
• Who is the note intended for? There is no salutation. We have tons of samples of Kristin’s letters and there is always a salutation – AND a date. If this is really her “suicide note,” why wouldn’t she address it to her partner Heidi, friends, coworkers, and/or family – as she always had addressed people in her letters? Similarly, wouldn’t she document the date of the most significant letter of her life, as she did routinely with her letters? In fact, she often even included the specific time (for instance, 7:15 p.m.) that the letter or journal entry was written.
• In addition to a salutation and date on other writing samples, Kris also typically indented her paragraphs and she also usually wrote on each line of the paper in her letters and journal entries, unlike this “suicide note,” which does neither.
• Related to the numerous writing samples we have acquired though multiple sources, Kris also primarily wrote in cursive in both her letters and in her journal. This “suicide note” is an odd hybrid of cursive and print.
• Why would anyone start a suicide note with “I attended a course…”? Clearly, the writer of this note is directing the reader to correlate ESP with the disappearance, but it seems like a very odd place for anyone to start a suicide note. Also, Kris attended two courses, not “a course”; a fact that Kris would have clearly known.
• “aka Nexium” is another oddity. Kris did not take any NXIVM classes, not even one, despite the extensive recent propaganda linking her to NXIVM. Why? Because NXIVM did not even exist at the time of Kristin’s disappearance; it was still in the planning stages. The writer had obviously heard about these plans as evidenced by the phonetic spelling. Again, it is obvious the writer of the note is clearly directing the reader’s attention to ESP/NXIVM – but if Kris were distraught enough to write a suicide note (and as functionally incapacitated as reported by her partner), why/how would she focus on minutiae like this?
• Speaking of minutiae, it gets even more obvious in the next words: “based out of Anchorage, AK + Albany, NY.” First of all, WHO CARES where ESP was based? That is in no way pertinent to the reasoning, and apparently is another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader toward ESP/NXIVM. Secondly, this information is actually wrong. ESP wasn’t “based out of Anchorage, AK” – they held classes in Anchorage in a rented hotel space. The home base was in NY. Furthermore, Kris knew very well that this information was wrong, having recently visited their NY headquarters herself weeks before her disappearance!
•The words “based out of” (city, state) are odd as well. None of Kristin’s other writing samples did this. Nowhere does she mention elsewhere that anything is “based out of” anywhere in any of her copious writing samples we have obtained.
• Furthermore, why would the note say “Anchorage, AK” anyway? Presumably, Alaska law enforcement would be able to deduce that Anchorage is in Alaska without this unnecessary clarification.
“I was brainwashed + my emotional center of the brain was killed/turned off. I still have feeling in my external skin but my internal organs are rotting.”
• If Kris was brainwashed, she wouldn’t know (at least at the time) that she had been brainwashed. Again, this seems to be yet another clear attempt by the writer to direct the reader to look at ESP.
• Furthermore, if Kris finally did realize that she had been brainwashed, why would she then kill herself?
• The writer switches “my” and “the” in a sentence – something Kris never did, even once, in the hundreds of pages of writing we have obtained. The sentence should read “the emotional center of my brain,” not “my emotional center of the brain.”
• Another oddity is in the redundancy of “external skin.” Again, this sort of mistake does not appear to be Kris’s style, based on other writing samples. She had a Master of Science (M.S.) in Biology and she worked as an environmental consultant to the National Guard. She was a precise, clear, scientific, and articulate writer.
• This passage clearly implies that Kris was suffering from Cotard’s syndrome; per WebMD: “People with Cotard’s syndrome (also called walking corpse syndrome or Cotard’s delusion) believe that parts of their body are missing, or that they are dying, dead, or don’t exist.” We have talked to multiple people who Kris had visited in her January 2003 trip immediately prior to her February 2003 disappearance, and nobody reported any observations of any mental health issues, suicidal ideation, depression, psychosis, nor delusions of any sort. All of the people who discussed Kris’s reported mental health decline stated that they had not personally witnessed any symptoms, but rather, they were told of a rapid decline following Kris’s disappearance.
• If Kris thought she was already dead, why would she kill herself?
“Please contact my parents Bob + Jonnie Snyder at (number redacted) in Dillon, SC if you find me or this note.”
• Why would she specify to contact her parents, who lived out-of-state? Why not her partner? Why, in fact, is Heidi, the love of her life and civil union partner not mentioned AT ALL in the entire note?
• The inclusion of Kris’s parents as the sole contacts listed in the note contradicts a specific story told at the time of the disappearance alleging that Kris had uncovered memories of abuse during the class and that these purported memories were the reason/a factor in her alleged suicide. But: if that story was true, why would she include her father in the note? It should be noted that there is no evidence whatsoever that Kris was abused. As with the alleged rapid mental health decline, people who reported that story were not told of the purported abuse by Kris themselves, but rather, they were told of the purported abuse allegations after her disappearance. In fact, we even have been given a copy of a text message exchange in which the person who spread this abuse claims refers to it as “the lie.” This is yet another example of the myriad of inconsistencies and contradictions that plague Kris’s case.
• Why mention “Dillon, SC”? There is already a phone number given, so the city/state is irrelevant, and also, it is not her typical style. Again, it seems like someone with a quirky tic to mention a city and state wrote this.
• “if you find me or this note” is similarly nonsensical. If someone found her but NOT the note, they wouldn’t see the note, would they? Again, this oddity of wording is inconsistent with Kris’s typically precise style.
“I am sorry, life, I didn’t know I was already dead. May we persist into the future. KRISTN (sic) SNYDER”
• Again, if she thought she was already dead, why would she need to kill herself?
• Why is she addressing “life”?
• “May we persist into the future” is interesting. “Persist into the future” is a phrase used in ecology, which could potentially mean a couple things: a). Kristin wrote this herself; b). Kristin wrote this phrase elsewhere and someone traced/copied it onto the “suicide note”; or c). the writer had seen a document that referred to this phrase and used it.
• WHO LEAVES A LETTER OUT OF THEIR OWN NAME???? The second “I” is missing in “KRISTN.” Furthermore, as mentioned earlier, Kris predominantly wrote in cursive and she typically signed her name in cursive as well. Why, in the most important document of her life, would she BLOCK PRINT her name, and even more bizarre, why would she leave a letter out of her own name? The writer appears to drop letters and cram letters together, but there is no evidence from other writings that Kris did these things.
“No need to search for my body”
• Why was this written on the BACK of the page on the “suicide note”? And why was the note left inside of a notebook to begin with?
• Kris was a member of the Anchorage Nordic Ski Patrol, and therefore, she was involved in search and rescue. Therefore, she would already know that THEY WOULD SEARCH FOR HER ANYWAY. Also, more importantly, why would she intentionally hide her own body and therefore put her colleagues/friends on the search and rescue team through the extensive trouble and potential dangers of conducting the search for her?
• Why write “my body” on the back of the page but write “me” on the front of the page of the note? That is yet another incongruity.
• Why the emphasis on not looking for a body? The writer clearly has a very specific reason to mention this; there is a reason the writer does not want the body found. It is very rare for a person to want to hide his/her own body, and even more rare to be able to successfully do so.
submitted by Blankboo97 to Verity_of_Kris_Snyder [link] [comments]


2024.05.11 03:16 Basic_Ad234 can someone please grade my ap synthesis essay? thanks ( self-study )

frq from the 2021 exam : https://apcentral.collegeboard.org/media/pdf/ap21-frq-english-language.pdf?course=ap-english-language-and-composition
note : i’m self studying for the exam and this is my first ap lang essay ( and my first essay in a long damn time in general ) . i know it’s crazy that it’s my first with the exam being so soon, but it is what it is. i tried to get chat gpt to grade it based on the rubric, but it gave me a 5 and to me that’s unbelievable. anyways, i’m open to constructive criticism to improve my skills with the time i have left.
here is the essay itself :
Thesis :
While cursive in the presence of digital technology is not necessary, hand written instruction, such as print, should still have a place in schooling because of the cognitive benefits; relevance to daily activities ( specifically in schools ); and the use of it in scenarios where the use of technology is not available or an option.
P1 Concession
To begin with, it is easy to admit that handwritten instruction in schools is not necessary in the digital age.
In the classroom, traditional writing has been “swapped for keyboards” and “blocking cursors” while “some teachers believe that cursive is archaic and that students should be prepared for more contemporary communication” ( Source A ) so that they may “ become better writers as handwritten instruction takes up less of their education ( Source C ), for this type of instruction is only emphasized inside the classroom and “the move outside our schools, and in innovative schools, is toward technology.” ( Source A )
This evidence confirms that cursive is not necessary in today’s educational programs because of the need to instead prioritize how the majority of our communication is done.
However, since handwritten instruction is not just made up of cursive, and benefits of it can still be achieved without having to dedicate the time to learning cursive, handwritten instruction should still have a place in school.
P2
Unlike the former point, handwritten instruction ( such as print ) has a place in schooling because of the cognitive benefits developed when taught compared to fully transitioning to only teaching forms of modern communication. When it comes to the opposition of handwritten instruction, most people focus on the cursive part of the argument as if handwriting consisted of just cursive and not the printed word as well. Both give cognitive benefits to whomever is taught it, but only one is necessary to be taught to receive the enhancements.
For example, “ Because handwriting is a complex skill that involves both cognitive and fine motor skills, direct instruction is required to learn handwriting ( it is not good enough to just give a workbook to students and hope for the best. However, the result of good instruction is that students are benefited in their cognitive development and fine motor skills.” Specifically, when taking handwritten notes students more effectively retain information, comprehend the content, and have more focus during lectures compared to students who took notes on a computer. They are also less likely to “...have problems retrieving letters from memory; spelling accurately, extracting meaning from a text or lecture, and interpreting the context of words and phrases.” As well as expressing more ideas and writing longer compositions. ( Source D )
This evidence supports that handwritten instruction should still have a place in schooling due to the cognitive benefits because it illustrates what benefits are present in students when they are exposed to handwritten instruction as opposed to disadvantages when they are not.
Consequently, since students are put in an advantageous position in contrast to those who rely on writing on keyboards, educators should consider whether prioritizing the focus on the digital age is actually hindering the educational progression of their students. Therefore, Handwritten instruction should be a part of the learning experience due to the fact that its absence would decrease the quality of their education.
P3
In a similar manner, the relevance of handwritten instruction in daily activities ( specifically in schooling ), has made it necessary to still be taught in school. The data “of a 2013 survey of 450 elementary school teachers that asked how much of their time students spent on writing on paper and how much of their time they spent using technology” concluded students spent the majority of their time writing on paper compared to using technology and as you move up in the education system you see that over time they use less and less of technology in contrast to using paper. ( Source D )
This evidence proves that handwritten instruction is relevant enough to be taught because of how much students still use it. Consequently, since the usage of handwritten instruction is still relevant in the lives of students, it should not be removed from their education. Therefore, due to its relevance in education it is evident that handwritten instruction still has a place in education.
P4 ( maybe i should’ve removed this… it’s outside evidence )
Equally important is the usage of handwriting where technology isn’t accessible or an option. Solar flares, simply not having access to an internet connection due to circumstance, or even knowing that technology is not inherently secure ( data can be sold, obtained, or silenced ) can make it so that you cannot type what you want to express. Having the ability to write on paper allows you to have access to a written of communication even in these scenarios. Therefore, being taught how to write by hand gives you an alternative in an ever-changing world where you cannot control or know what will happen next.
another note : i know it’s pretty bad. my commentary should be more developed and link back to my thesis, but i would like someone’s advice on what and how i could do better.
submitted by Basic_Ad234 to APLang [link] [comments]


2024.05.10 20:01 semdot14 [WTS] Pen Lot Lamy, Nakaya, Leonardo, ASC, Pilot

Here are five pens that I love but don't get used enough. A few are pretty special.
  1. ASC Triangolo Arco Verde yellow gold trim 14K Magic Flex nib [A2] Another loverly pen from ASC using old stock Omas Arco rods. It writes well, but it's size is a bit much for me. I have inked it once, cleaned it and now only look at it. It deserves to be used.comes with box and all the paperwork. Photos & Timestamp $825 Shipped
  2. Pilot 912 Falcon with Flex Nib Factory 3 slot ebonite feed [A1] Not much to say about this pen. It has been modified for better flow. I never got around to using it. This pen has only been inked for this writing sample. Photos $125 Shipped
  3. Leonardo Momento Magico In-House 14k Medium Nib LE Omnia Amethyst Resin [A2]. This pen is absolutely gorgeous. The material is from Jonathon Brooks of the Carolina Pen Company. With that, it has Leonardo's new nib which has a great writing feel. I love it, but don't use it enough. It comes with the box and paperwork. Photos $400 Shipped
  4. Nakaya Naka-ai Writer Heki-Tamenuri Custom 14K Two Tone Medium Soft nib with cursive Italic grind from Nibs [A2]. This one is hard to let go of, but I don't have space for it. This is a particularly special pen because the studio added more kanji than usual on the barrel. It reads, "And the word was God." The pen is in great shape. The nib has a bit of tooth to it. It comes with the box and papers. Photos and timestamp. $800 shipped
  5. Lamy 2000 Brown LE with 18k Broad nib [A2] The pen writes great and looks even better. It has a nice milk chocolate appearance that really sets it apart. It comes with all the goodies completely unused including a book, a Lamy leather notebook and some other fancy items...oh and the pen. photos and timestamp $450 shipped
submitted by semdot14 to Pen_Swap [link] [comments]


2024.05.06 15:42 Isara_lol Kizana and Tsuruzo - Matchmake Rewrite

This is a rewrite for Kizana and Tsuruzo.
Some the suitors will have their background changed cuz Pedodev fucked them up as always.
Osana and Kyuji's Matchmake Rewrite
Amai and Shoku's Matchmake Rewrite

“Salutations my future star! I'm sure you're here to beg the one and only Kizana Sunobu to join the Drama Club! Don't you worry dear, I lead you right to her–”Tsuruzo stared at Ayano when she interrupted him,”I'm not here to join the Drama Club, Yamazaki-san”
“Oh?”
“I'm here to speak with you. It's something personal.”
Tsuruzo gasped, placing his hand on his chest,”Personal?! Have I angered a beast in the school? How naive of me! Speak to me, my future star, who is this beast I have angered? I shall apologize immediately!”He examined. Ayano shook her head in response,”You haven't angered anyone, Yamazaki-san. It's about your feelings towards your leader.”
“My feelings? Ah! Yes. My dearing love for Kizana Sunobu. I suppose my actions haven't hidden my love for Sunobu-san very well. How disappointing.”He signed deeply. Ayano mentally rolled her eyes before continuing,”I'm here to help you win her heart.”
Tsuruzo stared at Ayano with a blank expression on his face before laughing out loud,”Haha! Aishi-san! You have always found ways to make my day much brighter! I appreciate your offer of helping me win Kizana's heart, but I can't accept it! As you can see, Sunobu-san has been busy perfecting the Romeo and Juliet play. Lately, she's been spending a lot of her time with Yamada-san! He is one of the main leads in the play! He must be perfect! She has been shining as bright as a star since the moment Yamada-san came! I would never dare to ruin that brightness over my dear love for her!”
“Wouldn't you want her to see you the way she sees Yamada-san? Imagine the future you two will have together. The most famous actors together, and traveling the world as the power couple you two will be. Isn't that a nice thought?”Ayano suggested. Tsuruzo remained quiet as his eyes glanced down at the ground before looking over at Kizana practicing on stage with Taro,”I've always loved the idea of seeing Sunobu-san succeed just like her parents. One day, I can witness her being an amazing and talented actor that everyone loves for how passionate she is. However, I don't think she sees me the same way I see her. There's so many stories where the second male always suffers for a love that they can't have in the end. It's heartbreaking.”
Ayano placed her hand on his shoulder as Tsuruzo glanced over,”Don't worry, I will help you win her heart. I'll make sure that everything goes well and see how an amazing guy you are, Yamazaki-san. You two will be perfect together. She trusts you more than anyone in the club. You just need to follow my lead.”
“Your lead?”
“Mhm. I will be helping you with the dates you will take Kizana to and make sure everything doesn't go downhill.”
Tsuruzo stared at Ayano with unsureness before determination took over his face,”I'll follow your lead, my future star! Tell me what to do and I'll do it! I shall win Sunobu-san's heart and show her my love!”

Monday → Play In Town
Tsuruzo takes Kizana out on a date to a play that will take place in a theater in the town. The play was made by a famous writer and actor who has been famous for its story, the meaning behind it, and the wording. In addition to that, how gorgeous the wardrobe is.
Tsuruzo managed to get the seats that made the perfect view of the stage. It's something nice for them both to enjoy and express their feelings towards it.
Afterward, they would go somewhere to eat, talk about the play, and get to know each other. Something simple.

Tuesday → Under the Moonlight
Tsuruzo takes Kizana out on a date in a town where there's many stores for them to enjoy, music, foods, and a nice view of the ocean. During this date, the two get to know each other again and get closer physically. This is the time when they would hold hands for the first time because later on in their date, Tsuruzo would invite Kizana to dance to the soft music playing.
The two will be dancing under the moonlight (Chessy af) ,enjoying their company and letting their body feel the music. Kizana finds it quite romantic since it does remind her of a romance movie that her parents were in as the main couple. There was a scene exactly like the one she's experiencing right now. With Kizana loving the dancing, she would rest her head on Tsuruzo's shoulder as Tsuruzo would hold her close while they danced.
It's quite adorable to picture in my head.

Wednesday → Shoku's Restaurant
Kizana and Tsuruzo have another date in Shoku's restaurant where they would order the best dishes that Shoku's family has. If Shoku is there, He can help Ayano with making the date go by perfectly by serving them special dishes and the best one as well from the menu. He will only help if Ayano matches him with Amai or if Ayano befriends him.
During the date, Tsuruzo does reveal to Kizana the real reason why he was into acting. He reveals that the reason why he chose the path of becoming an actor was because when he was a kid, he saw Kizana's parents in a movie that his parents watched. He saw the passion, determination, and talent within them that inspired him to become an actor himself. He hopes that in the future, he can be an amazing actor like her parents are.
Kizana does encourage her to follow his dream. Kizana does trust him and care about him more than anyone in the club for how similar they see the world and their passion for acting.
As their date continues, Kizana gets to tell Tsuruzo about her dark secret among other personal things about her and her life. Towards the end, the two are holding hands again on the table as a sign that the date was successful.

Thursday → Behind the Scenes
Once Kizana found out the reason why Tsuruzo wanted to become an actor, Kizana decided to bring him behind the scenes of a movie that her parents were working on. Tsuruzo does get to meet Kizana's parents, being honored to be in their presence. Ayano doesn't get to be present, but she does speak with Tsuruzo before the date. It's like how Ryoba did it with the suitors in 1989.
During the date, Tsuruzo tells Kizana that he hopes that one day that she will be as successful as her parents and for him to witness it. He wants to be there for her success and watch her grow. He does believe in her that she will make it to Hollywood. He wants to be there to cheer her on, throw her roses, and admire her.
This causes Kizana to blush at the thought of having Tsuruzo there for her and stare her with those admiring eyes that he has been doing for the past dates. Now, she thinks, what if Tsuruzo was the one who was by her side and not Taro? How would life be with him?
This is the first time when Tsuruzo would peck her cheek as the two hold hands before returning to watching Kizana's parents act in their scenes of the movie. They're pretty much leaning against each other in the background.

Friday → Romeo and Juliet
During club activities, Kizana and Tsuruzo practice the parts of Romeo and Juliet as Tsuruzo as Romeo. During the play, they are saying their lines and doing what they need to do.
Kizana realizes, during the play, that Tsuruzo is the Romeo she's been looking for the whole time. Someone who will understand her, be there for her, cheer her on, and make her shine as bright as a star. A young man who would look at her as if she was the whole galaxy, just like Romeo looks at Juliet.
After the play, Tsuruzo would give her expensive jewelry (because you know how Kizana is) that Tsuruzo got customized for her, but would give her a box to keep her jewelry safe. A box that had roses as a design with her name in cursive on the top with a heart on top of the I. Kizana cherishes his gift and wears the jewelry every single day since then.
Kizana officially fell in love with Tsuruzo and moved on from Taro.
Ayano successfully matchmade Kizana and Tsuruzo.

After school on Friday, Kizana confesses her feelings towards Tsuruzo. Tsuruzo accepts her feelings, saying that he feels the same way. They share their first kiss under the cherry tree and become an official couple.
During Oka's week, they can be seen walking around school, in the Drama Club acting out a scene, in the gymnasium practicing on stage, and can be seen cuddling on a bench, or in the plaza benches.
In the future, Tsuruzo and Kizana become actors together who travel the world and have been in movies together. Tsuruzo always showed Kizana support and threw her roses after her plays were done. He still remains looking at her as if she was his whole galaxy (which she is) even if they're old.
submitted by Isara_lol to Osana [link] [comments]


2024.05.02 13:41 TavaHighlander Tips for Writing Novels et al on StandardNotes?

i use markdown in supernote, with the toolbard turned off and a monospaced font (Settings>General) and this comes close. Bits I'm missing are: - paragraph indenting - ability to load preferred font family - focus and typewriter mode like iA Writer
It is sooooo close to being wonderful for longer writing, not just notes. So very, very close. (I shifted to using an e-ink android tablet to eliminate screen glare, type in my first drafts (which are cursive in pencil on paper), using a QwerkyWriter keyboard, and love the set up.
submitted by TavaHighlander to StandardNotes [link] [comments]


2024.04.30 17:57 Electrical_Book_2081 Need help - I am sexually attracted to text.

Yeah I know the title sounds stupid but it's real. I'm also autistic btw.
In 2022 I kept a massive collection of handwritten text (about 1,200 pages) on my computer. I obtained about half of the images by going to class when everyone was away in the school gym, and taking pictures of my groupmates notes. This was a pretty quick way to grab 50 pages in a couple minutes, if no one caught me. I got the other half by scouring handwriting on multiple accounts and posing as a "writing analyst", and telling people that I could "find more about them" if they just sent me more text. This way, I managed to steal the writing of several hundred people. I even got a girl to send me a stupid 90 pages of text over 6 months.
For some reason I am attracted to how people write. I fapped to the text, sometimes multiple times per day (I think my record was 6 times). I only did it to cursive text, and I was also addicted to men's handwriting when I am not gay. I would lie down on my bed, with my face down, and hump my bed while looking at the pictures.
I noticed that there are several styles of writing and I picked which one to fap to based on how I felt. Some were "calm", almost like the writer was comforting me. Some instead were "goofy", or some were "hurried" like the writer had no time to write it. I did not care about what was written on the page, I masturbated to a lawyer's document from 2001 as well as some guy's history notes from class. Yes I am a total excuse for a human
I deleted the collection in August of 2023 (best decision) and that is when I started my first serious attempt at nofap, I lasted 76 days. Sadly I failed by thinking "eh, one time every 3 days isn't bad" and I became addicted again. Now I started a new attempt and I'm currently at 39 days. My goal is to reach 100, and eventually 180.
Now, how the fuck am I going to forget about this? It's basically impossible for me to do a day of school without being horny 24/7 so I'm basically forced to look at my desk and concentrate for like 6h with no breaks. Is there any subreddit or group i could post this on? I really need help and i am too poor for a therapist
submitted by Electrical_Book_2081 to NoFap [link] [comments]


2024.04.26 12:22 CarelessCrow-5203 How readable is my writing?

How readable is my writing?
I'm a long time cursive writer but often write in print when my handwriting has to be read by someone else. My priorities are speed and a relaxed hand. Hence, I've fallen into bad habits because I know only I need to be able to read it.
Blank paper (no lines) is my default paper choice. While my sentences are generally straight across the page, individual letters aren't. My m's and n's and v's and u's resemble each other too closely. My letters are sometimes incomplete. I don't always connect my letters properly. Some letters can be too small or tight.
With all this in mind, how readable is this bit of text? If you were to just do a quick read (not necessarily to find faults), did you have to stop often, scratching your head, trying to decipher what in the world that word is? Can you even read it?
I dont really need advice on how to improve, just the above questions. :)
submitted by CarelessCrow-5203 to Handwriting [link] [comments]


2024.04.25 14:01 Joebobb22 Dig deep, now: beyond ‘what’ do you write, to ‘WHY do you write?’

From my previous post yesterday on 'what do you write', here are some of the truly insightful reasons WHY people write, why we have all these pens, and what are the best experiences with them.
What are YOUR "why's"?
A key discovery I made from reading all those comments: I’m a writer, and the best thing I can do as a writer is to WRITE. These fine writing instruments draw me to them, they attract me — so I use them more, I write more, and that’s what’s most important.
submitted by Joebobb22 to fountainpens [link] [comments]


2024.04.23 03:15 scud80 [US-CA][WTS] Toyooka 40-pen box, PG Realo, Bees Knees, Custom 823, Vac700R, Tamenuri Studio, and a few nibs

Timestamp: Pens+case
Free shipping in the USA. International shipping at cost.
 
$250 - Toyooka Craft 40-pen case this one - I bought this new around 3 years ago and just replaced it. It’s the standard alder wood model with the reddish-brown stain and a hinged top lid with glass. The glass has a bit of scratching that’s hard to photograph, and two of the mats have small ink stains which are not easily visible when a pen is stored in that slot. Additionally, the bottom two mats are reversible (one of which has the smaller stain) if you want to have flat-bottom options; this was an add-on feature. Big pic 1, Big pic 2, Big pic 3
Pens for sale:
I can take closeup pics of anything if you need them.
$375 - Sailor - Pro Gear Realo BunguBox The Witch 2022 [B+] - Bought new - 21k B nib. Includes packaging and 90% full bottle of matching BunguBox ink. Writing sample
$350 - Tamenuri Studio - Cigar Red/Orange Tamenuri Ishime [A1] - Bought new - SS M nib. Very nice tactile finish on this one. I can swap the nib for one of the Custom Nib Studio ones below for $25 more (they both have the Tamenuri Studio logo). Includes converter.
$250 - Tailored Pen Company - XL Cigar Bees Knees with metal Bee rollstop [B+] - Bought new. The price does not include a nib, and this takes a Bock #8.
$200 - Pilot - Custom 823 Amber [B+] - Bought new - 14k B nib. This was filled once (w/Diamine), and is in excellent condition. Box/papers included. Also willing to sell the body+cap without the nib+feed for $100.
$160 - Cypress - Diamond Cut Black/white cellulose similar to Wild [A1] - Bought new - SS F nib. This turned out to be too small for me, so it’s unused. Very nice material and interesting faceted design. Box/papers included.
$95 - TWSBI - Vac700R Iris [B] - Bought new. SS F nib ground to cursive italic by Custom Nib Studio. Very nice writer, but I’m not really using F nibs any more. Packaging included. Writing sample
$90 - Kaweco - Art Sport Hickory Brown [B+] - Bought used. No visible wear. M stock nib, or I can swap with F from another pen. Includes packaging.
Pen bodies:
$100 - Sailor - Pro Gear King of Pen Black/silver NO NIB/FEED [parts] - Very good condition (microscratching typical of a B rating), no nib or feed (or converter) included.
$50 - Pilot - Custom 742 Black/gold NO NIB [parts] - Bought new and unused and still has the FA sticker on it. All I did was remove the nib to use elsewhere. No converter included.
Nibs for sale:
Bock #6:
$125 - Sailor in Bock #6 housing from FNF - 21k single-tone - M - Mark Bacas Formal Italic Writing sample $50 - Bock #6 - Steel - M - Tamenuri Studio branded - Custom Nib Studio Left Oblique Writing sample $60 - Bock #6 - Steel - BB - Tamenuri Studio branded - Custom Nib Studio Perspective (not as broad as you'd expect from BB) Writing sample
Jowo #6:
$50 - Jowo #6 - Steel (gold tone) - F - Custom Nib Studio Left Oblique
submitted by scud80 to Pen_Swap [link] [comments]


2024.04.21 12:11 CIAHerpes I write stories for God. Some of them are coming true.

I had been unemployed and penniless for two weeks when the letter slipped under my door. It flashed as if it were made of polished silver. On the front, in flowing cursive engraved into the envelope in sharp, red letters, read two words: To Michael.
“What the hell?” I thought, going over to the door and peeking through the peephole. No one stood outside. I quickly flung the door open, looking down both sides of the apartment hallway. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead cast the pale, yellow wallpaper in a dim light. Everything looked faded and lifeless, as if I were stuck in some sort of Purgatory.
Sometimes, I felt like Sisyphus, constantly rolling a rock up a mountain for all eternity despite the hopelessness of it. Except, in my case, I sometimes hoped the rock might just crush me to death. Everything had been going downhill for months by this point, and I knew if it got much worse, I would end up homeless again soon within a few days.
I knelt down, examining the letter closely. I wondered if perhaps one of my neighbors in the apartment complex had gotten some of my mail by mistake and slipped it under the threshold. But the letter had no stamp and no return address. Someone had clearly just written it and slipped it under my door.
Nervously, I touched one of my fingers to it. I felt a sizzling current run from the envelope into my skin, almost like a powerful sense of static electricity. It didn’t hurt, but it caused my muscles to tighten involuntarily. All the colors in the world seemed to brighten and sparkle as I picked up the sleek, silver thing. It looked like a letter from an alien, I thought to myself with a smile.
It felt tremendously cold under my grip, as if I were holding something that just fell out of the darkness of infinite space. I could feel it sucking my body heat as if it were a living thing, like some sort of vampire. My hand went cold and numb instantly, and the smile fell off my face as a rising sense of anxiety took over. After a few seconds, the sensation started to pass.
Hesitantly, I flipped open the envelope’s cover. Hundred dollar bills fell out, scattering over the floor like dead leaves. The little green pieces of paper slowly descended through the air. It seemed as if the envelope were spitting out impossible amounts of material. More and more money fell out in clumps within the space of a few moments, followed by a piece of paper as glossy and black as obsidian. I stood in amazement around the pile. The amount of money that fell out of this slim envelope wouldn’t have fit into a man’s leather wallet, less likely this paper-thin metal envelope. I thought of how Bugs Bunny and other cartoon characters could hide their bodies behind flagpoles or other impossibly narrow hiding spots. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or run away. For a few moments, I was overwhelmed by emotion, my mind racing ahead in a stream-of-consciousness garble.
My first rational thought was that it was all counterfeit, and that this was some sort of prank. The envelope could probably be sealed and have all the air sucked out of it to make it seem like it was holding much less than it was. That’s probably why it was metal, since flimsy paper wouldn’t make an airtight seal. I scoffed as I thought about it, not sure what I should feel at that moment. I wondered if someone was secretly videotaping me somewhere. If it was a prank, I bet all of those bills were counterfeit as well.
Then the silver envelope started to dissolve in my fingers. It looked like it was being eaten by a corrosive acid as it turned into ashes. Circular spots of gray dust settled on my hand, so light and smooth that they felt like mere air. Within seconds, the envelope had disappeared completely.
“Neat trick,” I muttered to myself. I had no idea who was behind this. My curiosity was piqued, however. Kneeling down, I picked up the black piece of paper. It felt like it was made of some sort of plasticky, unbreakable material. Its glossy surface felt as smooth and warm as a living creature under my fingers. I started reading the blood-red ink scrawled across its front in a beautiful, flowing cursive script. This is what it said:
“Dear Michael,
“I’m sure you are very confused right now. I know of your struggles, your hardships, your triumphs and failures. I know all of your thoughts and feelings, even at this very moment. Indeed, I am closer to you than your own jugular vein, your own heart.
“For I am GOD, the Creator of the Universe, the Source of Life, the Eternal. People call me many different names, as you well know, but my Archons call me the Pleroma, the Fullness, just as the ancient seers used to call me.
“For I fill all things. My consciousness spans all of the universe and beyond. It spreads forever outwards like an endless wasteland. It is within the hearts of all beings, smaller than the thumb. It is eternity. I have always existed and always will- like the snake eating its own tail.”
I was sweating heavily by this point. I felt an insane urge to laugh at the ridiculous letter. God sending a letter? Didn’t he have email? This image made me descend into a fit of giggling that bordered on madness. It threatened to smash through my mind like the waters of a collapsing dam.
My heart was pounding and palpitating at the same time. Something in the letter had a sense of power, after all. I could feel its subtle energy vibrating under my grasp as it trickled into my hands, almost like the heat of a tropical sun. Inhaling deeply, I continued reading.
“I know what you’re thinking. GOD sending a letter? Doesn’t he have email?” I gasped, falling back and letting the letter drop from my numb fingers. It descended slowly to the ground, drifting in lazy arcs. As it landed on the kitchen floor, though, something strange happened.
The blood-red ink began to emanate a blinding, crimson light. Its bloody glow radiated out of every single letter on the page. The glossy paper curled and writhed, lengthening and twisting into a long cylinder.
In a few seconds, eyes appeared along with sharp teeth and a grinning mouth. I looked down into the face of a viper. The crimson glow now came from its two reptilian eyes. Its jaw unhinged as it slithered toward me. From its mouth, I heard words that shook the ground like bomb blasts. I quickly realized this monstrous talking snake was reading the rest of the letter. This is what it spoke:
“I know you well, Michael. You will not believe unless you see miracles. But I have miracles for you, more than you will ever know.
“I have existed in eternity for so long that my consciousness is warping, twisting, becoming insane, forming back in on itself. I don’t know how to stop it.
“However, I enjoy my stories, and I know you are a writer who is down on his luck. You are special in a way you don’t understand. Within a few rare people, there is an essence, a divine spark of something ancient, some microcosm of the fullness, some piece of the primordial Sophia who I lost at the beginning. When I find these people, when they have progressed to a high enough level, I give them the choice, as you now have. For narrow is the path that leads to Heaven, but wide and deep are the paths to Hell. Not all who are called will ascend, but I believe in you, and I believe you will make the right choice.
“Contained within this envelope is $20,000. Every Sunday morning, a silver envelope will appear under your door with more money. I want you to write the most interesting stories you can and put them in there for me. The Archons with the faces of men and beasts enjoy singing them to me.
“If you refuse, the money is yours, but you will never hear from me again in this life.”
The snake gave a hissing shriek, a sound that slowed down and turned mechanical, like the grinding of many gears and the tearing of metal. Then, like the envelope, its body began to fade away into ashes, dissolving in growing circles. Soon, it was no more than gray dust on the linoleum floor, just like the envelope itself.
***
The rest of the week passed in a blur. I didn’t sleep much. Every time I did, I would see pieces of paper morphing, turning into talking snakes. Sometimes I dreamed of great singing winged beasts with four faces on their alien heads: a lion, an eagle, an ox and a man. Each of the faces faced in a different direction, like the four points of a compass. Were these the Archons the snake had mentioned?
I tried writing, but nothing worthy of an infinite God would come to my mind. The entire thing seemed absurd. Did God actually enjoy stories? Well, I thought to myself, if he created the universe, perhaps he did. Perhaps he only created the universe to watch the stories of each individual life passing through in its various stages of birth, suffering, aging and death.
Late on Saturday night, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table, drinking cup after cup of coffee. My laptop was open in front of me, the blank, white page staring back at me with a mocking glee. What kind of story was worthy of a divine being, after all?
After many hours of writer’s block, the answer hit me like a bolt of lightning: a horror story. After all, if the Old Testament was right, God was jealous and infantile. He got mad like a spurned lover when he saw people worshiping other gods. He drowned the entire world because he was somewhat disappointed in the first result. I figured a being of such a mind would certainly appreciate some more horror, as I did myself. After all, if I was made in his image, then I assume we should have similar tastes.
***
The envelope came sliding under the door at the exact moment the Sun started to rise on Sunday morning. With the finished product tucked into my nervous, sweating hands, I reached down and opened the cover. Enormous amounts of money came tumbling out. I didn’t even see all the bills, though. Feeling weak and anxious, I closed my eyes and slipped the folded pages of my story into the silver envelope. The currents of electricity from it seemed to sizzle my skin as I closed the cover.
I wondered if I would ever find out how much God liked my story. Would he send another talking snake with a voice like rushing water?
By the end of the day, I would know exactly how much God liked it. He liked it so much, in fact, that he decided to make it come true.
***
I fell asleep for a few hours, totally exhausted from working through the night. But when I awoke, I felt a surge of confidence and bliss I hadn’t known for many years. I was now financially stable- hell, more than that. With the $40,000 I had now received, I could pay off all my debts and still have at least $10,000 to spare.
I opened my eyes, looking around, feeling dazed. The horrific dream I had been having about sailing on an endless ocean surrounded by a thick blanket of shadows seemed to merge with the brightness of the real world for a few moments. I blinked rapidly, wondering if I was still dreaming. For some reason, I wasn’t on my bed anymore. I wasn’t even in my apartment.
I found myself laying on a cold, blood-stained steel table in a small concrete room. A bare incandescent bulb flickered overhead. The darkness of the claustrophobic chamber seemed to swallow its dim light like a hungry mouth.
“Holy shit,” I said, my heart dropping. I saw the door to my room standing wide open. It was a hospital door with a small observation window built into the top. The glass looked cracked and yellowed with age. Spatters of what looked like ancient blood covered the front of it. I felt a shock of fear course through my body like lightning as I recognized the setting from my story.
Past the door, I saw a dark hallway filled with overturned gurneys and debris. I got up, walking slowly out of my prison-like cell. Strewn across the hallway lay bloody scalpels, syringes filled with some strange, sparkling black fluid, bandages spattered with pus and gore, and even a dried human finger. The finger had curved in its dessicated state. As it lay on the filthy floor, it seemed to beckon me forward.
I tried to calm myself and remember the story. I had written it fast, and under the influence of too many weed gummies. Now I felt very sober indeed.
I walked down the hallway, feeling sticky fluids crunching under my feet. Something like pus seemed to glisten from the cracks in the floor, as if the hospital itself were a living thing and we were all just bacteria in its giant body. The walls seemed to breathe, slowly inhaling and exhaling as a slight breeze blew past me, constantly reversing directions with every cycle of it.
With no better ideas, I knelt down and carefully scooped up a needle with the wicked-looking black stuff swirling inside. It looked like someone had put glitter in some filthy car’s waste oil. I carefully wrapped the tip in cloth and put it in my pocket. Perhaps it would come in useful somehow, I thought. I had no better ideas, and my hope that there would be a way out and a happy ending to this had almost completely faded to nothing.
***
In the story I had written for God, the building was a decrepit, hellish mental asylum in the center of the universe. God was kept as a patient in the basement, insane and rambling like a syphilis patient in his final days. I imagined God as a kind of massive Nietzsche in Nietzsche’s last days of life: a man with the same prominent Germanic mustache, his eyes crossed and a straitjacket hugging his body, sitting in a wheelchair and staring at the ocean as he slowly loses the last fragile splinters of his sanity.
The staff of the hospital were his Archons, the archangels with the faces of men and beasts. They read to God all day, read him books, music, poetry or anything else to help him pass eternity and relieve the incessant boredom. But God was so far gone, they didn’t even know if he could hear them most of the time.
I had no idea how to get out of here, or whether there was a way out. I hadn’t put any in the story. As I wandered down the halls, a horrified, painful wailing began beneath my feet. The floor started to tremble with the power of it. It sounded like a man shrieking as his body burns alive combined with the tortured squealing of tearing metal. It passed through the air like thunder. Dust fell from the ceiling. The many cracks in the walls opened and lengthened.
I shook, my heart trembling in my chest. My legs felt weak. I walked forward like a sleepwalker. In front of me, I saw a sign with a staircase pointing at the end of the hall. There I saw an old bunker door, thick and sturdy. On the front, barely legible, a sign lay reading: “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.” Underneath, a smaller one read: “Psychosis Unit.”
After taking a deep breath, I opened the rusted door and started to descend.
***
The walls breathed all around me as a fiery, glowing light shone far at the bottom. It felt as if I were descending into the bowels of Hell itself. For all I knew, perhaps I was.
The stairs dropped down a steel tunnel for what looked like thousands of feet. The steps had strange gold and silver filaments woven together in long, curving strands that made the entire construct look like an enormous spiderweb. It had no handrail, and the steep, narrow steps fell down like the slope of a mountain. Vertigo twisted through me as I focused on my breathing, slowly making my way down, intent on not tripping. I had gone for about five minutes when I nearly died.
That roaring, shrieking, tearing wail started up again. As the stairs started to tremble and the walls rippled like contracting flesh all around me, I felt myself thrown forward. I screamed with terror, windmilling my arms. Hundreds of steep steps loomed below me, a very long, bone-shattering fall. I had visions of my bloody, broken body being returned to my family, the splintered bones all poking out of the skin..
I slipped, trying to brace myself, but my foot came down on empty air. I started to fall, knowing I had lost. The absolute animal panic of that moment made everything slow down and grow bright At that moment, though, something grabbed me from behind. I felt myself lifted off my feet as a smell like lavender and rotting bodies filled the area. Two skeletal hands held me under the shoulders with a grip like iron.
I turned my head, seeing something monstrous, the decaying body of an angel. It had two massive, black wings extending on both sides of its body like the wings of a bat. Countless pale, squirming maggots fell from those wings every moment, dripping like raindrops in a heavy storm.
Its head was spun around backward, so that I couldn’t see its face, but growing from the back of its scalp, I saw many strange, black, snake-like creatures writhing and twisting. They stared at me with their pale, white eyes. Their reptilian faces split into a grin as we reached the bottom of the stairway and the creature set me down gently on the ground. Those snake tentacles had far too many teeth.
It turned its body so that its face was looking at me. This thing had a face like a skull, pieces of necrotic flesh still clinging tightly to the bones. Two dead, cataract eyes stared out. Its teeth looked as sharp as needles. On its body, it wore softly glowing silver armor. It even had a sword sheathed around its waist.
I backpedaled away from this abomination, but it put its hands up.
“I am the Angel of Death,” it said. “I am not here to hurt you. We are to bring you to the center, to see for yourself the truth of all things.”
“We?” I asked, looking around. Behind me, I saw more angels, massive creatures standing twenty feet tall with four faces on their heads. As they turned, I realized these were the Archons. The faces of oxen, men, eagles and lions all looked dispassionately down at me, some with hunger in their eyes and others with hatred. They all had on glowing armor and swords, like the Angel of Death.
I realized I was no longer in the building. Its breathing walls loomed behind me. Trickles of pus and blood dripped from cracks in the walls. Its exterior seemed to shiver with excitement.
I looked up, seeing a sky as dark as an abyss stretching overhead. In front of me lay a wasteland of rocks and fine, black sand. Shadows pressed in on all sides, but far off, there was the flashing of fire.
I squinted, seeing a massive door of finely-spun gold and silver thread a few hundred feet away across the wasteland. It opened onto something like a volcano. Torrents of lava splashed and bubbled deep inside, sending thick, choking black smoke into the air.
Around the door was a wall rising hundreds of feet of air. It looked like smooth, polished obsidian. It gleamed mockingly, cutting off my view of what horrors lay behind it.
“Time to go,” the Angel of Death whispered in a voice like smoke. It came up behind me, its tentacle creatures snapping and biting at each other like rabid dogs. A cold, rotted hand was placed gently on my shoulder. I shuddered.
The Archons towered over me on all sides, their silver armor glowing with a soft blue light. They said nothing as they accompanied me toward the fiery door, surrounding me like guards accompanying an inmate to the electric chair.
***
Around the door, hundreds more Archons stood in a semi-circle. They all murmured and chanted in different languages, creating a low, constant susurration. Their eyes looked cold and dead, as lifeless as those of corpses.
I felt immense fear. My heart palpitated wildly in my chest. I knew I was looking death in the face. Whatever was through that door, I did not want to see it.
I heard someone whispering, a soothing female voice that came across so softly that I didn’t know at first if I was imagining it. I looked at the Angel of Death, wondering if it was talking, but its skeletal, bone-white mouth stayed firmly shut. I listened to the words as a sense of light and peace filled my chest, suddenly feeling as if I was not alone in this.
“Through that gate is the Demiurge, he who imprisoned our immortal souls into these dying bodies at the beginning of time. He is evil, as cold and black as the endless void between stars…”
I felt a warm, calming presence for a few moments as the words faded away. No one else seemed to be able to hear them. The Archons hadn’t reacted. And then the terror and anxiety returned.
“See your master,” one of the Archons standing next to me hissed as they pushed me toward the door. His human face contorted into a sneer as he looked down on me with contempt. “He created you from dust. You’re no more than a Golem wrapped in skin. Just dust! But we, the holy ones, were created from light.” He spat with his human face. The lion face roared, its deadly eyes glittering with hatred. The ox head showed only contempt as the eagle gave a predatory glare.
I stepped forward and entered the sacred gate.
***
Through its threshold, I saw a face of infinite light soaring hundreds of feet in the air, blinding and radiant. Its eyes seemed like two spinning black holes. Its visage constantly shimmered and morphed, extending into other dimensions. Its geometry shifted in ways far beyond Euclidean spacetime. Underneath it loomed fields of lava and fire. Strange, bone-white tentacles writhed from the mass of light surrounding the face of God, slithering and undulating like snakes. It floated high above the hellish wasteland underneath it.
Then it seemed to focus on me. A presence outside of time and space invaded my consciousness. I heard a whispering start in the back of my mind.
“We are one. Feel the fullness of God…”
Something black and empty pierced my heart as that horrid voice twisted through my body. At that moment, I saw horrible things. The cold reptilian presence ran through my mind like an eternal scream. It felt like skeletal hands were gripping my heart, squeezing it into a pulp. Death flashed through my body, jarring and dissonant. Visions ran through my mind. Mountains of corpses and worlds of screaming beings sucked into black holes suffocated my senses. I heard an insane laugh, a sound like a bomb blast, full of sadism and mirth.
The Archons had come behind me through the gate. One of them turned to me, looking down on me like an ant.
“You will be fed to the mouth of God,” he said calmly, “so that your essences can become one. God wishes to have you with him for all eternity, talespinner.” A sense of panic gripped me at that point. They started to close in around me, trying to force me forward. I knew I needed to act, to escape this insane trap.
I grabbed the needle full of sparkling black fluid I had picked up in the hospital, hoping it was some sort of eldritch poison. Only one Archon stood between me and the gate with the rest at my sides. Spinning around, I ran at the one in my way with the needle pointed out. The angel had a look of surprise as I brought the tip of it down into his exposed calf and pushed the plunger. It brought a clawed hand down and swiped at me, sending me flying back through the gate. I landed hard on the black sand, gasping and sore. But the scream of agony coming from the Archon told me it had worked.
The effect was nearly instantaneous. The angel’s skin blackened and turned necrotic in spreading patches, rising up from his leg to the rest of his body in the space of a few heartbeats. All four faces began to drip blood and gnash at the air. He began going insane, smashing his human face into the obsidian wall over and over.
The other Archons started to run forward to grab me, but the insane, transformed creature took his sword and started blindly slashing at the air. All of his faces were crying and spitting blood now, and even his eyes had started to rot and liquefy in their sockets. The sword crashed into another Archon, decapitating its strange, four-faced head and sending it flying into the lava that bubbled only feet away. The rest turned their attention back to this new threat. I pushed myself up and ran for my life.
There was that horrific wailing again, the predatory roaring that shook the ground like an earthquake. It was the same shrieking that nearly killed me on those endless stairs. I realized with horror that the scream came from God. His face had contorted into unbridled fury. The radiant, spiraling light started moving forward, its thousands of chalk-white tentacles writhing faster, whipping everything in their path. They began to blindly grab Archons and tear them into pieces or throw them into the fire.
God crashed through the gate, splitting the obsidian wall into fragments that flew like bullets through the air. I sprinted as fast as I could back toward the mental asylum, the only source of potential safety I could see. I had little hope that it would help, however. Then that voice came into my mind again, the soothing voice that sounded almost like a loving mother.
“This is a place of shadows,” the whisper said in my mind again, a soft, female voice whose tone was as cooling as balm on a wound. “This is a mirage, one of the emanations above the source. You have the divine spark within you. You can change the emanations with your mind if you concentrate. Use the divine spark. Focus on that door…”
The decrepit hospital building seemed to be shivering and trying to pull itself back from the chaos and mayhem drawing near. Behind me, God moved forward like a creeping lava flow, destroying everything in his path. His cold, reptilian eyes looked down with contempt and a strange emptiness as he came forward.
“You must be one with me. Let me taste your bones. Let me drink your blood. Let your essence enter into me, the infinite, the divine," God shrieked in a voice like thunder.
That enormous face radiating light and insanity continued to sweep toward me. I knew it would catch me in seconds if I didn’t get out.
The door to the hospital breathed and dripped rancid, yellow pus from the top of its threshold. Beyond it, the strange silver stairs rose thousands of feet, like the building itself. I blinked fast, imagining my apartment as I got within a few steps of the door. The ground ripped itself apart behind me, cracking and falling down into an endless abyss as I jumped forward.
I felt a rising sense of energy in my chest, a spinning around my heart and a high-pitched whining in my ears as the door rippled in front of me like a mirage. Suddenly, the image changed, and I saw my apartment through it.
A tentacle as cold as liquid nitrogen snatched my ankle as I flew through the door. My apartment stood in front of me, normal and clean. The tentacles from the mass of light whipped out crazily in all directions, smashing everything within reach.
“You cannot leave!” God screamed as I felt myself being dragged back. Panicking, I thought of the only thing that might work. Focusing again on the door, I imagined it slamming shut. The swirling vortex of light filled my heart, and for a moment, I felt whole.
The door slammed closed with a sound like a gunshot, cutting off the tentacle like a scalpel. The dismembered tentacle still whipped crazily after the door sliced it off. It stayed locked around my ankle, even after it stopped moving. I ended up going to the kitchen and cutting it off with a knife.
The entire time, it dripped a strange kind of blood: silvery and filled with rainbows, like liquid opal.
submitted by CIAHerpes to stories [link] [comments]


2024.04.20 17:11 DiabeticDave1 [German > English]

[German > English]
I can read German, but I can’t read German cursive. Is anyone able to translate this? If it helps, the writer was a Swiss man around 1943’.
submitted by DiabeticDave1 to u/DiabeticDave1 [link] [comments]


http://swiebodzin.info