essays and poems and stuff

I\'ve had time to make my peace with 3.33. The thing that helped the most is this notion that every movie in this quadrilogy is a look at Evangelion through a different lens every time.

Rebuild 1 is Evangelion as it exists - objectively, on the page, Rebuild 1 IS Evangelion. Rebuild 2 is how the fans see Evangelion - and yeah, I wasn\'t immune to the hype. Rebuild 3 is how Hideaki Anno sees Evangelion - and I do feel like the elements that 3 focuses on are very unpopular and very dark. Shinji is impulsive and manipulated easily, the fucking WORLD ENDED at the end of Rebuild 2, it explicitly spells stuff out about Rei that a lot of people would rather ignore and like Kaworu things happen. Evangelion 3, through that lens, could be argued to be a statement on Anno\'s authorial intent. This is Hideaki Anno\'s Evangelion.

Rebuild 4, according to this framing, is how Evangelion should be. And honestly, I found Rebuild 4 to be very nourishing. It is, ostensibly, about healing from past trauma, learning to live in the world and - when you\'re ready - picking up the sword and getting the job done (an irl example would probably just be the part about getting a job). Nihilism feels cathartic and dark and evil, but the reality of it all is that when all that nihilism has come and gone, the world still exists and it moves on. And given how much \"the end of the world\" and the post-apocalyptic setting of Evangelion ties into that sort of nihilistic cloud that darkens Evangelion as a franchise, I thought it was very thematically appropriate that, through this framework, \"Evangelion as it should be\" is represented by Shinji\'s wish for a world without Evangelion.

And frankly, that scene at the end with Gendo and all that fucking rules, lmao. The art is incredible, I totally agree. Loved that Ritsuko finally got to pull the trigger on Gendo after getting Gendown\'d in End of Eva. It didn\'t work, but good for you girl. End of Evangelion is one of my favorite movies, especially if it\'s divorced from the broader context of what Evangelion is - while Rebuild 4 didn\'t really hit that level of weirdness, I do agree that it was a very Evangelion ending and I really appreciate that it went for what it went for, y\'know.

Last thing I\'ll bring up - idk how you feel about the dub, but I\'m a big dub guy and I was extremely concerned that they were gonna use the Netflix cast instead of Spike Spencer, Tiffany Grant and all that. Amazon springed on getting as many of the original dub voices back, including the original voice of Rei Ayanami who\'s been retired since the early 2000\'s. They even got the frigging bridge crew back. God the more I think about it, the more I love this movie.

I was walking through the graveyard late one night

When I was caught quite off-guard by a terrible fright

I tripped and I fell onto some gravedirt

And then a hand came up - and it started to flirt?!

(The Zombie Hand)

The flesh was grey and dead

(The Zombie Hand)

It patted up my leg

(The Zombie Hand)

I was too scared to leave

(The Zombie Hand)

As the hand fondled me

I was rooted to the spot, frozen in place

As this hand rubbed its way to my Special Place

And before I could stop it, to my utter shock

It undid my zipper and it pulled out my cock!

(Zombie Handjob)

It was a zombie handjob!

(Zombie Handjob)

It started rubbing my knob

(Zombie Handjob)

What else could I do?

(Zombie Handjob)

That hand had grip like glue

The feeling was cold, and the feeling was wet

But I'd put my dick through worse as a part of a bet

I hadn't had a girlfriend for a year, at least

So I sat there and I waited for that sweet release

(Zombie Handjob)

It rubbed my schlong with love

(Zombie Handjob)

Would have preferred a glove

(Zombie Handjob)

The hand was speeding up

(Zombie Handjob)

And I was ready to cum

I called out as the hand took me past the point

I nutted pretty hard, came all over the joint

I expressed my gratitude as the hand went home

And it gave me a thumbs up as it returned to the loam

(Zombie Handjob)

I left soon afterwards

(Zombie Handjob)

Needed a change of clothes

(Zombie Handjob)

I hope the smells wash off

(Zombie Handjob)

Hey, it beats jacking off

---

Typing this on the toilet. Warning for graphic content, you've been warned.

This might be the most painful shit I've ever done. I went drinking last night, and I hit up a gas station for some food and all that. Woke up this morning, played some Paladins, whatever.

Just now, I get the strongest poo cramp I've gotten in recent memory. It's like, if you put off taking a shit for long enough, it repeats on you with increasing urgency. Eventually you start cramping and it's a battle to basically not shit yourself, so you want to get it out of the way before it becomes that much of a hassle.

This is basically the theme song for every poo cramp ever:

But I'm getting off-track.

I get hit with a magnitude 7.0 poo cramp right out of the gate. I battle it, I win, and I realise that I need to get this turd out of me right now because the next cramp is gonna be out of this world. So I get up, grab some clothes - and a magnitude 8.0 poo cramp hits like 30 seconds after the last one. I have to hunch over because it's hit so bad.

I'm panicking, because this situation is escalating like a fucking Zack Snyder movie with the pacing of Star Wars Episode 9. I grab a mostly clean dress-shirt and some shorts and I make fucking tracks for the toilet.

I'm not even out of my room when the magnitude 9.0 hits.

I basically have to throw myself out of my room, stumble to the toilet, throw my clothes in a pile of dust and wrestle my undies off with one hand. My guts feel like Armageddon.

That's just getting to the toilet.

I sit down, and I push - and something is seriously wrong.

This shit has friction against my guts. Like sure, you feel poop shifting when you sit down to take a dump - but this was like a defined lump of matter, running against all of my guts uncomfortably. I don't remember eating sand last night, so if it's this uncomfortable, it must be huge.

I feel it slide down my colon and get ready. I fucking feel it, like it's coated with sandpaper. This shit is MASSIVE. And I realise that this is going to be an ordeal whether I like it or not.

I could have sat there and put it off, weighing my options while this child-sized turd sat against my butthole. I could have pleaded, I could have begged for mercy. Either way, I'm sitting here at a stalemate, and it's gonna happen at some point. Can't put the genie back in the bottle, and if I somehow could, I would go through a magnitude 10.0 event and end up shitting myself. This is a no-win solution no matter how you cut it.

So I said "fuck it" and threw caution to the wind - and I shat.

I have never, in my life, done a shit that made me cry out in pain. I've done some gnarly shits in my day too - shits with the same quality of "I know this is going to hurt me". But I've never felt the need to vocalise while I'm shitting. Not once.

I yell out as I'm laying this golden fucking egg. It's a hushed yell, but I unironically cry out in pain while my asshole dilates to get rid of this poison that's inside me. You know the term "going in dry"? This shit was coming out dry. It was like getting fucked from the inside out with no lube.

It's over in about 3 seconds. But those three seconds were possibly the most painful three seconds I've ever spent shitting. I've spent more time typing this post than shitting, and whatever I produce in this post is profoundly less influential than the 2 or so minutes from poo cramp to anal annihilation.

I took a second to collect myself, and I look down.

There's blood.

Not blood from inside my body - I've shat blood before, I know what that looks like. This is like a trickle of blood on the poop, not in the poop.

I ripped my asshole.

No joke - this turd was such a monster that my asshole split open somewhere and started bleeding.

To be totally honest, this has happened before - I've actually felt it tear before, as opposed to feeling the screaming hot pain of a massive shit ripping through my life and leaving me despondent. Maybe that makes this less impressive. But this shit is beyond any other experience I've ever had, torn asshole or not. This shit was a tornado of pain, and this bloody asshole incident is probably the most damage I've ever done to myself on the toilet.

But get this.

When I wipe, it's all blood. All of it.

I wipe thoroughly, trying to avoid agitating my torn asshole, but thoroughly enough to know the scope of the situation. I'm completely dry. The only substance for me to wipe is blood.

The shit that ruined my Saturday was a no-wiper. It was about the size of a fist, and if it didn't literally tear my asshole open, it would have been a clean wipe.

TW: heavy themes of suicide

I dreamt about drowning myself last night.

I was sitting on the beach, letting the wind whip streams of sand against my skin. It was pitch black, and it was the middle of winter - all I could see was the sand and some light seafoam. Here and there.

The sand burned as it blew across my exposed arms and face, and the wind chilled twice as cold where the sand had blown - it was probably the most coherent observation I had made in a long time. I felt like I had stopped living years ago, and the only time I'd really woken up was when I got to the beach.

I considered walking into the water and swimming out as far as I could go. Maybe my muscles would cramp up and I'd sink to the bottom, letting the waves buoy me around while I waited to lose consciousness. Maybe I'd fall victim to a shark or a blue ringed octopus, or a cluster of man o' war jellyfish. I pondered whether the pain of waiting to die was worth the eventual reward of dying.

But being a beach on a coastal city, all sorts of people would have been around past midnight. And I figured that a solitary figure out on the beach in the middle of the night would be a prime target to get mugged.

Would I give my muggers my wallet and phone, some kind of sick bequeathment? Would I tell them to stab me and leave me to die, or tell them that it didn't matter whether they robbed me or not because I was going to die anyway?

Would they have helped me, disturbed at my resignation to die?

Or would they have taken advantage of someone who had nothing to lose and everything to give?

I'm nowhere near the beach, and drowning is one of the most painful ways to die to my understanding. It was just a passing fancy I suppose. I'm glad I'm alive, but sometimes I wonder. Maybe I don't have anything worth living for, except to spare the feelings of those around me.

When the only people you live for cause you more pain than you know what to do with, when does it hit the same pain threshold of drowning to death? I wouldn't really know until I tried drowning, I guess.

I think the lesson I learned from my dream was this: