And the universe said I love you

i love when they draw a carrot on top of the carrot cake just to remind you this aint no ordinary fuckin cake youre dealing with

something something the Third Terror being the mirror image of Jun, with the Terror’s wolf’s head as a symbol of how he has no agency over his body vs Jun’s demon mask he wears first as a symbol of his royal blood and then to keep him safe from identification. the Terror being locked underground to guard prisoners vs Jun locked underground to guard the moon goddess. The Terror’s utter devotion to Keema from the very start through acts of violence vs Jun’s hesitation and emotional turmoil. Keema’s initial disgust with the Terror vs Keema’s persistence in face of Jun’s rejection. The most unwanted child vs the most beloved son. something something, starve that guard dog, and see what hunger does. it’s easy when you’re well-fed to talk of love.

thinking about “to know how it ends but still begin to sing it again” and “it’s a story about someone who tries” and “we raise our cups to orpheus not because he succeeds but because he tries. we understand implicitly that there’s value in his trying and even in his failure.” and “it’s a sad song but we keep singing even so.” even when you fail there is value in the fact that you tried and that you believed enough in your goal to try despite knowing you might fail. it is worthwhile to try, because you never know. maybe it will turn out this time! perseverance despite the odds is worth celebrating even if it ends in failure. success is not the only thing that matters. and you never know that the ripple effect of your actions might be. orpheus does not recuse eurydice but he succeeds in helping spring to come again and potentially in preventing other people from losing their loved ones as he did, and that is a good outcome. we do not see the effect he had on the other workers in hadestown. yes, orpheus failed, but maybe if they sing it again someone else will succeed. someone has to keep telling the story.

i spend my days waiting. waiting for the water to boil and my tea to be ready. for spring to come back. for more daylight. the oil in the pan to heat up. a “hey i miss you” or “can you help me out for a second?” or “you want to hang out?” text. for my phone to finish charging. for good news. flowers on the table. the next hug. “hey, you got the job!”. waiting for the sun. to set. to rise. to see both. for summer to be around the corner. a good song. a falling star. a text back. i spend my time waiting to be remembered. i spend my time repeating that tomorrow will be better. tomorrow will be better. i spend my days waiting and waiting and waiting. i spend my days waiting unbearably.

like there comes a point where you think something is fundamentally wrong with you. and then it turns out it’s just Friday and you haven’t washed your hair in three days and maybe you’re also just a little lonely and the combination of all three of those things is whittling a hole into your chest every time you breathe. but also the sun’s up. and you’ve survived everything so far, so you’ll survive this too, even if it hurts, even if you have to survive it many times.