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an Initiative to make music and the interface to digital music open - source and reachable to all 5 senses.

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why lamp

the mark of cain inevitably does what it does, and dean with anger issues throws things(on a spree), but pauses after throwing the lamp, and then there’s  the bloody sequence, where he kills people(on a spree), but stops after throwing cas( for a second, then there’s more throwing, but no killing, because cas can listen to dean and dean can listen to cas, even when possessed, gay love pierces through mind control and saves the day<3)

Cas is often forgotten, like the lamps  in the room, but whenever time comes, they pray to cas( switch on lamp). And cas, gives dean hope, like a lamp.

Darkness is alluring, but Cas is like the lamp, light on the end of the tunnel, distracting dean from freakin AMARA( and she KNOWS)

Then there is the lamp, filling in the half of the bed, when cas would have been there, but he's most probably hiding from the angel army, which he gave up for dean. It's watching over Dean, just like Cas said he would. ANd Dean is listening to a mixtape( i guess there's more than one mixtape he's made for cas, but couldn't give it to him). So cas is here as a lamp when he can't be, and Dean is thinking of cas, with the songs he couldn't share with him.

Then there's the dance. Which is pretty much in character for us the audience, but obviously not the kind of Dean that Dean projects himself as. It's unrepressed, and even his clothing isn’t overtly butch (well its always a mix-match with a leather jacket and the samulet , long sleeves but men's jeans...), but here it's a white jacket and black trousers, worn with grace.

this is where not only cas is lamp, but dean loves lamp=cas is innuendoed. THe dream goes in stages, like the character arc and He enters the stage hesitant    He enjoys and lets loose into experimenting with Garth, who knows Dean is a softie and doesn't care otherwise anyway.    He grows comfortable.    He then chooses to perform with the lamp, a male-coded partner. and then at the end of the episode, sam and dean watch garth slow dancing with his wife. perfect parallel, and dean says out loud, “i always thought i could be a good dancer if i wanted to be.” {dean yearns for a ballroom, i.e.romantic partner, and for a long time around this point in th timeline, the eye stares and moment's and quarells and memories and all thought trails in dean's pov are cas cas cas, so that's that.}

deeper readings: the lamp dance was, as much dean romance as possible, it was classy(like rock), and ambigous or covered up( chick - flick - moment - but - very - cloacked : dean^tm) . It also is a call-out to him embracing his true feelings in his dream, and as we also know, cas has access to his dreams(cough -cough), Also, he's dancing to a song about "misbehaving", and it's all romantic, so the innuendo is clear.

But details! The lamp shines in the corner of the bunker, like corners cas often stands in, (almost always ), and dean approaches cas, sorry this lamp, like the lamp that was once filling the half of his bed, He pulls the lamp out of where it had been tucked away, and looks over the lamp from all angles, much like looking over cas whenever cas comes back.

Bonus point- dance paces up in the end, like dean's love and calls to cas become haphazard and more frequent and involuntary in s15.

And voila- the he blows the lamp a kiss in the end. summing up this moment:

a tiny spot the difference:

and finally here's mothDean and lampCas. because if 15X20, then why lamp?

Hsia Yan (夏陽) - Wearing Makeup in the Morning  (acrylic on canvas, 1991)

seeing through

self harm after one point, becomes a coping mechanism. Its often potrayed as glorification of the result of deep introspection leading to masochoism , or as attention seeking, and a varried array of things in between. All half true, but far too contorted to have been intended well. In all truth, this is just my story.

i harmed myself, underfed myself, deprieved myself of sleep, gagged myself, whipped myself, took random medicines. Everything. If suicide is included in self harm, attempted it perioidically. And frankly, some of the self harm was for attention, i wished to make myself worthy of recieving care. To put myself in such hurt that i could control, explain in lies, and have catered to in small dozes. But more than that, it was a coping mechanism to hurt myself. Because everything else would be misconstrued or result in consequences i did not intend and could not control. A outburst of anger would effect my ties, breaking things was not affordable, or sometimes not explainable,  Crying would lead to intervention into my thoughts. But self harm? no one would know, no one could question, and i’d come out “sane” , “normal”, there would be know “something’s happened to them, they’ve changed” , nothing. i could just inflict pain upon myself in places and ways no one could see, and then go about my day, following my passions, which were truly mine, but also all of me as everyone saw it. ANd there was also relief in harming myself, because , indeed my thoughts had mangled into this crowweb of hatred for myself, and the hatred of my love for myself. It felt real, and the pain felt mine, and sometimes it felt wrong, and so it felt right , because i thought i deserved it, i think so sometimes. Its a overlay between wanting pain, and also forcefully inflicting pain i don’t want, former because i think i’v wandered into masochistic desires and it feels poetic, latter because outside that poem i hurt from pain, but i think i deserve to be punished. so i do it myself.

on the sideway, suicide, just became an option, and once it did, somehow that made everything easier, that its going to end, in my control, so i can just do this, just not do that, just that. Failed suicide attempts have consequences and aftermath , of course they do, and more often then not, the guilt of having hurt others and the “selfishness” of it is already lingering in ur head on its own, the major aftermath is just a feeling of failure, and more ideation along with more self harm. Because maybe if you’re going to fail and then be put to the test for why’s and see others hurt for u, be angry, be troubled, or be unbothered by your pain, better sane up for it, so that the lingering apology in your head manages to find its way above the pain of the reality and you manage to set things right back they were before by convincing everyone so. Once self harm becomes you’re coping mechanism, it just  never really is comforting to be saved.

There must be a way out of it, there is, i know, but how will it be found if we don’t dig a creek in this soft grave and set paper boats to sway here. The sun dazzles, at the edges of such a boat, i know.

if you’re interested in mutual aid and aren’t sure where to start, i can’t recommend enough joining a local Buy Nothing group. in a nutshell, it’s a totally free gift economy— people give from their own abundance and ask for what they need. it’s indispensable as a recent grad household— we got the majority of our basic furniture, as well as an AC unit through the group— but what i find particularly wonderful are the ways other forms of community aid popup through the group.

i’ve seen people organize meal trains for strangers. people fleeing from domestic violence have gone from a suitcase of possessions to a fully stocked house in 48 hours. home hospices being set up with goods from six different households. cookbook lending. distribution of windfall apples and tomato harvest overabundance. grocery pickup for ill folks. people looking out for listings for others. everything from bread to baby carseats to house paint to pet food.

and much of it is done between strangers, often between people who would not recognize or identify with the term “mutual aid”. it lowers waste, goods go directly to people who need them, and it avoids the sometimes dubious morality of the thrift shop circuit. i’d really recommend it.

Frank Asakichi Kunishige - Hamadryad, c.1924

and also dean never understands sam as a person, he only sees them as parents see their children. Not as another human capable of decisions, and containing thoughts, but as a being that will make mistakes and needs to be protected. He never saw sam’s addiction for what it was, his coping mechanism, but saw it as a fuck up from foolish choices. He never came out of thinking how anything sam does is just a bad decision, that he could have prevented. ANd he does go fucking things up to take control whenever given the chance, like killing whichever ‘monster’ sam decided was just as human as them. He never understand’s sam’s arch on having demon blood in him and first thinking of purifying himself of it and then embracing it and battling in between. It’s the same war crime parents commit on their kids. Like zero empathy space, because they are “children” and don’t know what they are doing, and god forbid they have “thoughts of their own” that are not “phases”. The whole toxic shit goes so much both ways and that’s why siblings aren’t supposed to be in the parenting dynamic.

still fucked up about the fact that sam started the series without like. Knowing dean. in dead in the water sam’s comment about dean caring about the kid - “who are you and what have you done with my brother?” and deans subsequently offended yet defeated face; sam knows dean like a child knows a parent, not really at all, distorted and incomplete, as figure and not person

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seedling cosplaying baby yoda

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Where all the buses are loaded and the streets groan

reconciliations with anatomy and defects carried under invisible serum-paper (2021), Jim Lee // neil banging out the tunes (2006)

anyway ive had right enough of prince fuckingham palace going pumpkin here’s an absurdist pretentious edit of the unseen reality of neil’s life behind the jazz & the glitter. what makes a man bang out the tunes? pain

Happy neil banging out the tunes day.

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nights

Maybe it’s the new moon, but today I feel as if I’ll fade away. That my existence will cease its hold it has on me and I’ll slip through realities fingers. That laying here still will force me to drift away into my dreams. Where my innards haunt me and comfort me alike. And if I wake up, I’ll feel ok again. I know the pain won’t ever go away. But for as long as I lay here, it will be forgotten. So let me lay here for eternity. Please let me lay here.