#non bts

Source (Season 2 - December 20th 2023)

I haven't published anything BTS-related lately, and this may or may not be your cup of tea, but since it has been a year since I published my work I pasted below, I thought it would be nice to share it to this community as well. And for the fun of it, I might pull an excerpt as a plot for a BTS fic. Hehe.

-

I. CATHARSIS

If I could go back to a certain memory that we shared, it would be the quiet afternoon in your room. You had your eyes closed, and I was staring at you. Softly, I trailed my index finger on your nose and whispered, “I’m so in love with you,” and then you opened your eyes.

It wasn’t that I was trying to mimic a scene from a movie or emulate a page from a book, or perhaps I was, but also, in that very moment, it was when I meant it the most. I loved you the most, then.

—

Rainy days remind me of you.

Before you, rainy days remind me of my black boots and purposely jumping on puddles—I liked that my feet are safe from getting wet and cold. Rainy days make me relive the memory of rushing home, trying to outrun the rain, only to arrive with cold beaded sweats on my back.

I used to love rainy days during dry season. My mornings would start with blue skies and, come afternoon, they turn to grey clouds.

But now, I’m reminded of you. Altering my carefree memories in the rain with uncomfortable damp sneakers trudging on carpeted cinema floors. My joyful runs in the rain are now shared hesitant steps with you on slippery sidewalks.

It was rainy when I took you to this tiny coffee house I liked. You had too much coffee and I had too little words. To me, it was comfortable, warm, and we were sheltered from the storm.

Though I thought you put too much sugar in your coffee, I went home thinking that having you around wouldn’t be so bad. But while I had no doubt in my mind, you admitted yours were distraught. You didn’t like the silence, so you spent minutes thinking of something to say.

For some reason, it always rained when we shared good days. But it was the sunniest on the bad days.

—

I just wanted you to know that I loved you then and meant it. But I know now that I was in love with the idea of the relationship with you.

Yet I still don’t know why I spent days and nights crying over you. And that it was you who I missed and resented for leaving.

—

There’s a running slideshow of you in my mind. They’re strings of muted clips and images of who I thought you were — the person I met and saw throughout the relationship. Most days, the memories are blurred, even unrecognizable, that it slips past my consciousness. On rare days, it consumes me. It turns to a montage of a lost loved; a friend. The pieces run on fast-paced slides, but each frame remains as vivid and clear as the day it happened as if I were in that moment all over again.

—

Some days I really really miss you, but I remember how it felt being with you. I remember the desperation of wanting you to do things, the agony of waiting for words to come out of your insanely fucking thin lips.

I remember my patience running thin as I tell myself to wait a little bit more. To hold on to this love because it’s real. It may be real. Isn’t he real? So, I hold it out and allow myself to make room for you.

But you never even took me in.

Earnestly, fuck you.

—

I’m unearthing every single thing you told me. Lie or not. I don’t want to keep them anymore.

II. AFTER THE STORM

When confronted by the things, even the little things, that used to mean something to you, it’s like being dragged back to feel the pain of losing it again. That’s not even fair, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we be reminded of how good it felt to be in that moment instead of feeling the weight of losing it?

Why can’t we remember the great times and feel all the butterflies again? Why am I tormented by the heartache and bittersweet tears? Why does it feel this way? How can something that was once so great turn into the worst moment of my life that causes me discomfort?

—

Grasping at every ounce of genuine happiness I was allowed to feel; convincing myself that whatever weight that drags my heart has nothing to do with you. This is not a heartache. I have cried all there was. This longing has nothing to do with your hands no longer mine to reach. I am now fine, healed, and have moved on.

—

Hoping this surge of happiness will last and stay even on days I might remember a memory of you.

—

The only lingering fear I have is to no longer having the ability to feel the way I felt about you to anyone. And that scares me. So, I force myself to feel anything just to know.

I need to prove that I can learn how to adore the little things about someone again. And to re-learn is to want to make memories happen, allow myself to feel, and regain what I had lost. So, that is what I do now.

—

This is the girl I lost.

The girl who constantly wondered about everything — curious of everything and everyone around her, smiled at the tiniest gestures of love and kindness. The girl who always had overflowing affection from her heart — free to give to anyone. The girl who found love in everything she did and found contentment and expressed her gratitude in even the most mundane things.

I lost her when I tried so hard to fill the empty parts of you that were once taken, never requited; forgetting that I am capable of running out too.

—

When we’ve been hurt, we feel like we’ve been wronged. We start to spite those who hurt us, but more often than not, we forget that maybe, they are in pain too.

—

This. I want to keep this. For so many nights, I have prayed to the gods for a lighter heart before I sleep. I have been desperately grasping at false happiness and temporary pleasures to forget how pained I am.

For many days and nights now, my heart feels light, even at the reminder of you.

—

Before the day ends, I want to pay homage to Gustavo Cerati...

Do you all remember when Jin went to Argentina to sing The Astronaut with Coldplay?

In this same concert, Coldplay covered some songs by Soda Stereo.

So Soda Stereo is one of the most influential pop/rock bands of Argentina and Latin America, led by the musical genius, Gustavo Cerati. Their songs are iconic.

When Cerati died on the 4th of September in 2014, after being in a coma for 4 years, his passing was felt all over Latin America. For 4 years, we all waited for him to get better until it was announced that he had passed.

I was in my car in the school parking lot when I found out. I cried and mourned for weeks.

He was absolutely brilliant. A true musical genius. Eccentric as hell. He thrived on that stage. There was something about him. His artistry. The way he performed and remained true to himself. To his whole self. I'm in awe still. Always will be.

(Fun fact: He is also known as The Little Prince)

I still remember when I heard Persiana America, my favorite Soda Stereo song, for the first time on tv. I was 12 years old and it was a Sunday. And since google wasn't really a thing, I archived the lyrics and band name in my brain. I asked my piano teacher about them the next day and she had no clue what I was talking about!

Anyway, 2 of their most famous songs are called Musica Ligera and Persiana America.

Now, I don’t care for Coldplay but my respects to Chris Martin for taking the time to learn the song in Spanish and pay homage to Soda Stereo.

I can't imagine how Argentinians in the crowd felt listening to the songs. Feeling this giant electric field in the air with the same vibe. Hearing hundreds of people sing the lyrics of the songs they grew up with.

Someone made a mashup of old concert footage with Soda Stereo and Coldplay. It's pretty cool to see Cerati and Coldplay on the "same frequency":

And one of my top favorite songs:

Ahh to think that Jin got to witness all this! It is iconic. The stuff that dreams are made of.

Bonus: My favorite rendition of Persiana America:

NON JIMIN POST KEEP IT MOVING DAMN

I’ve been putting it off too long. Vainly hoping that my shoulder length red hair with brown roots would survive. But it is not to be.

Pre- and post-op cancer treatment combined with sudden removal of all and sundry internal bits has left me losing my hair. The multiple anemias didn’t help. And now that I’m well enough to pay attention, I’m realizing how much hair is gone.

It’s see-through. My roots look darker and healthy-ish, but everything longer than an inch or so is thin and brittle. It’s dry. It’s ugly.

I bought two wigs. Red. One longish and curly, one longish and layered and straight. Both a bit spendy but not toooo expensive, while I find a hair prosthetic my insurance will cover.

Wig #1 should show up this weekend I hope

Because today I’m getting my hair GONE. Not bald - my elderly mom can’t survive that - but pixied. Definitely an undercut. I’m gonna be shorter than Park Jimin with an undercut. I’m not sure if I should cry or be happy. Yikes.

Wig 2 will probably arrive about the time Vampire JeiKei shows up because of course I like it better and so does every other bald redhead in the world.

I’m nervous. I’ve been avoiding this. But HERE WE GOOOO