When you dress up in a purely original costume, despite it not being Halloween (that day did not pan out all that well), and you ask your friends (now roommates) if you could borrow them for 1 minute to take a picture because your costume requires the use of both hands, and you don't want to spook the resident dog (named Bandit, while you're ironically serving up Bandit harder than he). But, they keep insisting you take the mask off to not spook the dog which was defeating the purpose of said request and dismissing the reasoning behind borrowing them (meaning stepping into another room)...all because they're too brain rotted from watching The Boys and Invincible, I swear. That's what they're doing right now. They just started Invincible. More media about assholes in costumes doing catastrophic things 'cause drama, and they couldn't be bothered to pay attention to their friend in a costume doing no harm for a minute. Couldn't be bothered to pause it. Couldn't be bothered to turn it down. Couldn't be bothered to listen 'cause I swear it's *like* they didn't hear me (even though they did), and I just said "ah, fuck it, never mind" and hobbled back upstairs to my room. Positive I heard one ask "what was that about?" as I ascended away from the dumbfuckery, like some silly fucking one-liner sitcom, lmao. Hate to sound pretentious. But, damn, I get let down on even the smallest things, and yet those things, be they small, actually mean something to me.
Mutuals, I am a hedge wizard of the far future, beyond the apocalypse, who, other than knowing skills related to healing and poultices, has also acquired the power of gun. My outfit is slightly androgynous. But, that's because gender conformity/non-conformity should be fucking irrelevant at that point, and you just wear what you find and what works. Wizards be pretty flashy with the fashy(ion) anyway.
Rough description:
- Neutral patchwork Indian poncho/scarf garb (I genuinely forget what it was called, only heard it once when I met a man from India who informed me of my apparel's origins, but, it's kept me warm, as was it's purpose for the immigrant students coming to Canada and I am forever grateful for the information) adorned with pins from travels (my travels have been limited but they mean a lot to me)
- said "poncho" layered over top of baggish longsleeved branch laden garb speckled with rhine stones that draped down to my knees and poofy collar with eccentric pointless zipper stitched in (copper pellet USP in one of two side pockets) popping out from underneath "poncho"
- black vertical contour Zara catsuit from neck to wrist to ankle featuring silver ring zipper from sternum to neck as base layer beneath baggish garb
- on head was black elastic headband pushing back my beyond shoulder length brown hair coming out beneath a bronze cat eared mask from mid-cranium/frontal cortex to cheekbones/upper nose bridge wrapped in barbed wire
- lime green paisley bandana as nose and mouth covering, obscuring neck where catsuit zipper would otherwise be visible
- black fingerless mitts pulled over ends of patterned sleeves from baggish branch laden garb
- brown leather braided belt fastened around waist pulling "poncho" together around baggish garb to better frame the torso like a tabbard over a tunic/gambeson
- red and blue velvet pouches one containing aventurine (a gift from my best friend) the other a Blarney stone (a gift brought back from Ireland from my best friend's sister who is also my friend) both bringing good luck and fortune for an adventurous spirit fixed to belt off to my left side
- slightly used tomahawk (not bloodied, it's okay, no violence) tucked behind same belt off to my right side
- brown leather Fergie knee high boots (zippers on each side of each boot, single strap and buckle on each down near the ankle) upper cuff flaring upwards at front and dipped down at back (originally used for Overwatch Mercy costume, too many men told me I was a trap and reluctantly attempted to flirt with me, it was hysterical, I am straight, I just like to wear cool stuff, doesn't help that I have a good frame either, toot toot my horn I will)
- did I mention the not-a-real-but-real-looking-gun (but real for the sake of the setting this could derive from) that would be a fun surprise for would-be underestimaters seeking to take advantage of what might be an unassuming healer of sorts?
- and to tie the wizard aesthetic together I have a shoulder high staff that's been in my family for a while now shaped like a monkey foot (not literally, but, we call it that, good for stamping unwanted bugs) that I would hold in my left hand while g.u.n. (gross underestimer neutralizer, still working on the name) or u.s.p. (unseen sneaky pistol, lines up with acronym, try harder guy) would be in my right hand (staff planted in ground, staff arm supporting gun hand for maybe seemingly weary but dangerous gunslinger, it's for character, yo)
I wanted to explain it all to them. Not literally all of the aforementioned details though because they'd just get to see it and there would be a degree of it speaking for itself, also they can barely pay attention longer than a minute. I wanted to show them all the bits of my costume, the same way they did with their costumes around Halloween. I was so enthused and ecstatic to see and hear about them. One was Gandalf, the other Gollum, both terrific DIY. I assisted with Gandalf through providing monkey foot staff, literal Glamdring replica I bought a while back when Green Earth closed at the mall, and a green glass wizard pipe I got from a friend at a secret Santa (fuck, that could also be part of my hedge wizard costume, kept in my other pocket). I wanted to share my late/latest costume with them, and tell them about the sentimental parts of my costume that played roles in holding it all together, shit that's slightly personal to me, lol. I wanted to have just one picture, like how they got pictures in their costumes from a bunch of people they saw at a party consisting of my friends of which I wasn't invited to. The absolute tone deafness of it all.
This shit feels a bit like a lackluster Tim Robinson skit right here, especially with the way I'm responding to this. I've been having a pretty hard time of late, and everywhere I go the people who matter to me just hurt through and through (dramatic, but, my life really is one jab to the heart after the next and the next and the next, not much respite between them most the time, at least not enough for me to not only heal but also get somewhere in life). I came home to heal from recent events, and they really couldn't indulge me for a moment. Still luv 'em tho.
Shit. I created art. Just wanted it to get out there somehow. Most fun I had creating something in a while, and I mean..I normally just have fun playing video games or whatever. Creating ideas and concepts and then flexecuting them feels way better. I didn't mean to type "flexecuting," but, I'm keeping that there. It means showing off your well thought out aesthetic. Flexecution, if you will. Anyone who says this better give credit or else eat copper..'cause I'll get you with my uspinger, ya dinger.
Why do I have friends and feel like the pure raw stuff I attempt to dish out to them is for whatever reason rank to everyone? It's hard to notice people caring if and when they do. Do people care about me, or do they just say they do? What do people like about me other than that I am nice and helpful and make them feel good? This line of questioning angers me.
Again, I've been having a hard time of late. Sorry for the existential dread over not being acknowledged in a costume. It's like childhood when your parents basically tell you to fuck off after you sought acknowledgement for something you felt proud of like a picture you might hope would go on the fridge or something.
HoW tRaGiC
