He was laying on his bed, what was becoming more and more default for him. Another day, 27 more stupid things read or felt; whether it was reporters belittling his favorite sports team, the possible acquittal of a dangerous, rapacious criminal, his struggle to understand an appropriate single, straight, male, Left Wing Christian sex drive when he would feel gross and guilty after writing scenarios of fictitious characters and celebrities that tended to end in climaxes, his favorite American film series hijacked by a man who took a supporting character and made him the star, the wrongful verdict against a single-mom-pun-master because of the cult surrounding her ex or his belief his enjoyment of anything not explicitly Jesus-related was either making him obsessed and crazy or sending him to Hell when he died…he didn’t want to face the world anymore. His apartment and bedroom door opened. Fuck, was it another neighbor who thought this one was his, hers or someone else who they’d threaten with violence? He heard a familiar calm voice instead.
“I hear you’ve had it rough lately.” She said, gently touching his arm. Great, another thing for his brother to ridicule him about or suggest he seek help for his delusions. “Nice figurines, and you have my best friends and I in plush form.” The woman smiled. She picked up two, holding the one that looked like her and handing the other off to someone at her side.
“Hee-hee, that Jupy knows how to make ‘em.” The second giggled. “Oh, El, that little one looks like your—”
“I know, I’m glad to see it, too.” Replied the first. “ ‘If you were to face a shadow in your current state, your power would not be sufficient enough to fully beat the snot out of it.’ ‘I’m famous on the inside, that’s good enough for me.’” She said and sang, holding the little figurine.
“Someone call for an idol?” asked a youthful voice that the man knew very well, like he heard it on a certain weekday every week.
“I think our fan needs to relax his toes…” enunciated the first.
“All the way up to his nose…” added the second, doing similar enunciation. The three placed their hands on his back, the first performing chiropractic healing on his neck and shoulders, popping the air bubbles in his spine and reducing the tightly wound tension.
“We don’t have all the answers you want.” She said. “But you have people you can open up to about these things. You’ve come a long way, further than anybody anticipated when you were a child.”
“You played it twice to get me with her and beat various superpowerful beings and dragons across the last 4 years!” smiled the second. “You Got This!”
“You have wonderful taste and a kind heart.” Said the third. “You are an extremely determined man, one who fights for others and simply needs to remember not to fight sometimes so you don’t get consumed.”
“I hear that part saying, ‘but what about…?’” added the first. “Forget your mistakes, if the God you pray to is real, He doesn’t chisel your sins down in stone unless it becomes your lifestyle. Rest your mind and soul, and know you can always call on us if you need to.”
“You’re never as alone as you feel. You have us in your head, your family in your phone and your friend every 2-3 weeks.” Added the third. They rubbed his back, releasing the tension stored in it, then kissed his cheek, helping the stress leave. It’d be back, it always will be, but for now, it was gone, allowing him to drift off into a much-needed nap.
So, August begins. July was rough on me, it started with paranoia the Supreme Court was going to make murdering LGBTQ+ people legal so long as the killer could quote Leviticus 20:13 from memory. Writing about that on Twitter and Facebook did not help, and Twitter became unbearable for a time since I needed mental comfort and rest and it looked like Tara Platt was leaving, making me deal with the hate, scrutiny and personal doubts listed above alone. My Dad reminded me that I am the one ultimately in charge of my happiness, which made me think I needed to leave Twitter because it was less fun and I thought not just Tara, but the main people who offer mental comfort and rest were going to be gone. It doesn’t help that the CEO of that place is a deranged, self-absorbed, homophobic fascist. Tara still being there and liking my pictures of a Funko Pop convinced me to just cut back and try to not talk about things that would result in aggressive arguments, or if I do, make sure I’m careful about what I say and where.
I spent a good portion of my time trying to arrange my entertainment purchases for this month, right now, all I can say is I plan to buy about 30 more songs, or rather, $42 worth of music because not every music purchase is equal, a DVD of Evangelion episodes 9-11, which includes my 2 favorites of the series (pending price), 3-4 video games depending on budget, $25 of costs for the Mariners-Padres game next week and maybe 3 concert tickets. All of this depends on budget and personal desire since I failed my bank account in July despite an increase in funds. I’m not sure how things will pan out, but I’m hopeful I can prioritize taking care of myself and arrange my entertainment ideas priority well. There’s a Hell’s Belles (all-woman AC/DC tribute) concert in Seattle next month with an all-woman Soundgarden tribute opening, Geoff Tate at the Everett Theater in October and a Pride Music Celebration next June. The games are Gigabash, a monster fighting game with Godzilla DLC, Final Fantasy IV, a classic that my brother played when I was young, Cassette Beasts, a game with not just Tara Platt and Yuri Lowenthal in it, but also Allegra Clark (Shamir and Dorothea), Aleks Le (Zenitsu in Demon Slayer) and Liz Morey (Nel in Fire Emblem Engage), and Stray Gods, a musical RPG with Laura Bailey and Ashley Johnson, as well as others.
The trade deadline is here, and the Mariners got rid of two players I had seen at the game I went to on July 21st. However, it made sense to get rid of Pollock due to his severe underperformance, and Sewald fits the phrase “got to spend talent to get talent.” What doesn’t make sense is the rumor of trading Teoscar Hernandez, as he is 2nd on the team in Home Runs after Julio Rodriguez (and a good friend to Julio, as well) and the Mariners this season haven’t had much offense, why trade away what works in an area of need? Admittedly, it was him being with Julio on this year’s World Baseball Classic’s Dominican Republic team and tweeting Bible verses (though in Spanish, so I couldn’t read them) endeared him to me, making this feel like the Deadline surrenders of Randy Johnson, Cliff Lee, Ichiro Suzuki and Dustin Ackley, all who were personal favorites. However, I think the Mariners’ future is bright and aim to see them play the Braves and Mets next year.
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