#litwtiat

had a cat for a few moons

then lost her to the woods,

The thing about getting lost in the woods, is it effects you a lot more than you think it would.

But also, I love Malcolm in the Middle. Y’know, the early 2000s show the one with Walter White with hair. Honestly, I think Hal is Bryan Cranston’s deepest character work. Honestly, best mental illness rep I’ve seen with these eyes—from someone with a cocktail of mental disorders. My favorite part about older shows is how they’re shot on film, it’s a lot more expensive than digital, so they make every second purposeful.

Especially the x files… *thought bubble*

I had this tabby, named her Scully, after Dana Scully. From The X Files  She’d wake me up by licking my face, and her tail would poof up when she was excited.“Now I have a cat, she can’t abandon me”. The thing about borderline personality disorder, is, well, abandonment issues.

One day, I open the door, and she zooms out. Ohhh no, then she races across the courtyard and up some stairs, ohhh no, then she goes in to the parking lot, ohhh no, Scully please don’t do that. I get her out of the and then she’s staring out from the fence looking at a busy road—ohhhh no, Scully please don’t do that., She runs down this hill, there’s trees n shit, bit of a precarious situation going on.

I wasn’t prepared to go anywhere woodland-eqsue, I was wearing white tennis shoes, no socks, shorts, a cardigan, and my indoor glasses. When I was hit by a car my glasses got real fucked up. My friend’s mom was my lawyer; said that I should just go ahead and buy what I need for the insurance claim. So I got two pairs of glasses, one for when I’m inside, drawing, writing, watching tv, excterea (misspelled on purpose), and a pair transition lense glasses. I get to the bottom of the hill, and Scully darts through an open gate, into the woods.

My dad had this rule; I wasn’t allowed to watch mitm, psych, or Homestaw Wunna until I was roughly 13. Not due to vulgarity, I needed to understand why it was funny. I was allowed to watch as much of tv as I wanted if my dad liked it to. It never turned in to an argument; In the words of Jeff Winger (community) “Tv never abused and insulted me”.

A short summary of the family, Lois, stubborn as hell and tries to keep the boys in check (with a lot of screaming), Hal, (my dad’s favorite) loves his family more than life. Francis, has a disdain for authority (especially his mother) and was sent away to military school, Reese, who’s just, straight up a criminal (“he has no more sense of right and wrong than a TREEFROG!” ), Malcolm, a genius trying to keep the family from falling apart, and Dewey, a space cadet who becomes a musical prodigy.

Malcolm, the titular character, finds out he has an IQ of 165, and gets stuck in the Krelboyne Class. Like a supped up gifted kid class, I’m not gonna lie to you, I was jealous. I wanted a place where it was normal to be a 14-year-old academic. Those kids were freaks aka, the entire junior high bullied them. I wanted to be one of those freaks, at least they had each other.

Instead, I was in a class full of people who didn’t get the point of farenheit 451, then made fun of for being smart, also got called a fag.

Malcolm was my partner in misery. In his words “Why can’t my brain just let me be happy?”

I think my mother got the idea to send me to military school from MitM. During covid, like, empty threat much.I needed to “learn respect”

“Sending me to military school won’t teach me respect, because I don’t respect the military. Why not just let me live with—”

“What kind of parent would want a rude child like you”

…

If my mother had actually watched the show, I don’t think she would’ve used that threat. Francis was always rebelling; his first nemesis, commandant spangler, said

“I have never seen a cadet with more disdain for authority than that of young Francis”

My first nemesis, well my first nemesis was my mother, my second nemesis was my APUSH teacher. I’d filibuster the class when he’d try and punish the many for the sins of the few. Francis taught me well.

the youngest, Dewey was raised in the trenches of war, tormented by Malcolm and Reese for years (because Francis tormented Malcolm and Reese). Eventually he just, stopped caring, there was nothing he wasn’t phased by. That’s what it was like for my in highschool. One time I was just standing there, and these guys went “IMPROV!!” then shoved me to the ground and started curb stomping me and laughing. They were just… pretending… but…

There’s a line from Dewey that really stood out to me: “Things have a way of working themselves out; Rock On.” *finger guns*

I was meant to be like Dewey, my mother thought I was Reese, I thought I was Malcolm, so I became Francis.

After watching The X Files, I had an even more profound connection to TV. The X Files is a work of art, they made every second beautiful, every second purposeful. It’s like if a shitty scifi pulp novel was good.

So, I took that with me in every show I watched, It made me pay attention to the details. It made me appreciate all the love put in to all my favorite shows. It made me realize the cinematography in Malcolm in the Middle is so good. Like, its teeters on avant garde. They bring so many high brow concepts but present them in a seemingly low brow way. But the writing. Is. So. Good.

The cold opens are just a set up and a punchline. One of my all time favorites is where reese breaks this painting painting of sunflowers, causing a layer to peel off. It cuts to him guing it back “Hah. Pick-ass-o”

It was such a comfort show; yeah they fought, betrayed each other, sold each other out, Malcolm stole Reese’s girlfriend causing him to run away and illegally join the army. But at the end of the day, they all loved each other. Unconditionally.

Mother had this rule during covid where I had to go outside for an hour before 10am. She’d check the ring doorbell to make sure. So I’d go out the front door, then go in the side door into the basement and hide under a bed for an hour. Then she started tracking my location, so I’d walk down a hill and sit in the woods for an hour. Sometimes, I’d get all angsty and take a stick and smash it against a tree (I remember being especially upset on Mother’s Day) Sometimes cry in the woods.

Hahaha just like when I got lost in those woods. *thought bubble*           

I needed to get Scully back. I was tearing through bushes, spider webs, coughing up bugs. The shrubbery turned into brambles and thorns, a thicket. I learned that word from poptropica!

I get to a point where I just, can’t keep going. I collapse to the ground, just, sobbing my eyes out. I’m dripping with sweat, and my legs are burning from dirt covered scrapes. I try and compose myself, try to see where I am, but I can’t see anything. My glasses fell off. I can’t stop crying, holding on to myself; no socks, no glasses, no cat.

 I don’t know what to do, facetime my friend merilee

“I OPENED THE DOOR AND SCULLY RAN OUT AND THEN I WENT AFTER HER AND THEN SHE WENT IN TO THE WOODS SO I WENT IN TO THE WOODS AND NOW IM TRAPPED IN A THICKET!!!!”

“what…?”

“A THICKET!!”

I call out to scully inbetween sobs.

“Merilee, I’m so tired. I don’t know if I can go on. All I ate today were two blueberry bagels. I wasn’t expecting to be in the woods. I just want my cat. Its dark and I can’t see--”

I hear scully’s meow. I call out, but the sound fades. Not knowing if it was real, or if my mind was playing some cruel joke.

It’s the wee hours, and I’m crying in the middle of the woods. I did everything I could, literally. But I had to go home at risk of passing out in the woods. On top of that, my phones running low, so I say goodnight to merilee. I’m not out of the woods yet.

The first thing I do is go next to the fence (so I can avoid the thicket), I couldn’t hop it, I’m not trying to get impaled. A spiked fence by the woods is a bit redundant; it’s a lot easier to get in to the woods than out of them. Problem: there’s this huge spider web, a-la, huge fucking spider. Shit, back to the thicket I go; I back up, then fall off the wall. Shit—well, my head doesn’t hurt to three-month-bedrest level or being hit by a car level, pssh I’m fine

I see what looks like a clearing.

When reach it—my foot sinks in to the ground. Okay, this is Georgia, it gets rainy. I see what looks like a patch of land, which turns out to be a very slippery log. I try and grab a tree for balance, which turns out to be a big leaf. I’m in a marsh…? Dammit, back into the thicket I go.

I eventually see the dorms again. I climb this wall near an air conditioner, finally, out of the woods. I have to shimmy across the wall until I get to a place where I can jump off and not go straight back in to the woods. The whole time I’m thinking “I really hope nobody sees me all pathetic and covered in mud, I really don’t want to explain what just happened.” I get back to my dorm, cry, take a shower, cry, eat a bagel, cry, smoke some weed, watch the sun rise, then, finally, get some sleep.

Now Hal (Walter White with hair), he’s CRAZY; very obviously bipolar— Now, Most bipolar characters are violent; “THE GOVERNMENTS OUT TO GET ME IM GONNA BLOW UP A VAN” But with Hal, “Its amazing the things you can get done if you don’t sleep at all”, which is exactly the type of shit  I’d say pre mood stabilizers. There’s an where he gets fired from his job and becomes an eccentric painter. Which is like, so me, especially after getting lost in the woods…

After getting lost in the woods, you don’t really want to go outside. Plus my legs were a warzone. All scraped up, think about the worst amount of bug bites you’ve ever gotten. Not even close. Plus I got that blood that mosquitos like slurping up. Bugs are weirdly attracted to me, I think I like, emit pheromones or something.

My cat ran away, in all senses she “abandoned me”. I think Scully knew I needed to be a free spirit, that no good would come from tethering me down to anything. I was okay, I had no one, and I was okay.

 I got lost in the woods. I got myself out of the woods. —all without telling my parents. They’re off in London, yeah they left the country once I went to college.

I’m not going to get in trouble. I got myself lost in the woods and nobody is going to yell at me.

It was the time after getting lost in the woods that I rewatched Psych—its this Sherlock about this guy, Shawn Spencer, who pretends to be a psychic detective. One of his defining qualities is that he can talk himself out of anything. Francis taught me to rebel. Shawn Spencer taught me that I got myself out of the woods, I can get myself out of anything. It’s not like I’m going to get in trouble.

I wouldn’t say its good that I got lost in the woods, was hit by a car, or abused by my parents—but I’m also not defined by any of those things. Getting lost in the woods made me realize something;