Nicăieri nu e acasă

- Alexandra D.

"Nicăieri nu e ca acasă"

După cum se spune în popor

Vorba dulce care lasă

În gură apoi gust amar de dor

Deseori ne încearcă nostalgia

Când amintirea în minte e rescrisă

Dar permiteți-mi acum nebunia

De a contrazice acea premisă

Nicăieri nu e acasă

Așa ceva nici nu există

Dar oare cui îi pasă

Când iluzia tot rezistă?

Acasă nu este nici blocul

De la bulevard, scara doi

Pe care aproape-l atinsese focul

Și unde, mici fiind, locuiam noi

Acasă nu e nici covorul de sub masă

Găurit de fierul de călcat cel vechi

Unde, singură, îmi construisem casă

Iar brățări neon îmi stăteau după urechi

Chiar când părea singurul adăpost

Nici chiar locașul copilăriei mele

Nu putea de pace să-mi facă rost

Și să mă păzească de rele

Zilnic, plângeam în sinea mea

După vreo jignire sau umilință

"Vreau acasă" când e viața grea

Și după zadarnică străduință

Dar și acolo fiind, tot singură eram

Prea ridicole-mi erau dilemele

Dar, (oare la ce mă așteptam?)

Tot aceleași mereu problemele

Nimeni în lume nu gândește ca mine

Așa idei ridicole și extraterestre

Și îngrijorări despre rău și bine

De când se mai făceau picturi rupestre

Am fugit toți patru în Țara Promisă

Aproape pe nespusă masă

Dar cu încântare nedescrisă

În sfârșit, drumul spre al meu "acasă"!

"De a noastră ești!" vor spune

Dar orice dezacord este taxat

Iar peste mine soarele deja apune

Iar destinul, din nou, xeroxat

Nu e acasă nici apartamentul

Cel închiriat, nici cel la cărămidă

Cu atât mai puțin compartimentul

Din minte, înfășurat ca o omidă

Nici cele o mie de lumi de vis

Nu au măcar un loc care să mă țină

Nici melodiile, legănând un bis

Dorul de casă nu mi-l mai alină

Dar casă era locul părăsit?

Nu, ci acela ne scuipase afară

Nu mai poate veni acum spăsit

Să fie totul ca prima oară

Pentru că nici atunci nu era ideal

Nici acum nu este perfect

Dar acasă nu este un loc real

Iar amintirea e un reper defect

Acasă este spațiul unei fugi

Către ea tânjește sufletul în strâmtoare

Este scopul multor aprinse rugi

Când vrem să scăpăm de a vieții vâltoare

Nicăieri nu e acasă

Niciodată nu a fost

În suflet mă ascund sub masă

Deși știu că nu a are rost

Și dacă aș fugi departe

Și aș trece de ocean și mare

Și aș zbura direct pe Marte

Casa nu se vede în zare

Și dacă aș ajunge cu secole în urmă

În dansurile de crinoline

Singurătatea nu mi-o curmă

Și nu mă acceptă ei pe mine

Nici dacă mi-aș găsi prințul ca în basme

Și o mie de prietenei invitați la masă

Toate, deși aievea, ar fi numai fantasme

Iar în brațele celui iubit nu mi-aș găsi o casă

Nici în pat nu-mi găsesc locul

Și chiar în corpu-mi sunt străină

Mi-am îngropat în mine șocul

La adâncime de o prăjină

Pe ceilalți parcă-i încurc

Și oriunde mă simt ca un intrus

Oricât încerc să mai urc

Ținta se mută mereu mai sus

De pe ce planetă am căzut

De nici măcar eu nu mă înțeleg?

Totuși, măcar de ar fi văzut

Că zilnic de pe jos mă culeg

Totuși, privind în sus ca la o statuie ecvestră

Zăresc în ochii lor licărire vulnerabilă

Parcă nu numai eu mă simt extraterestră

Acasă nu e nici persoana cea mai onorabilă

Da, toți suntem aici străini

Niciunul nu ne găsim locul

Iar peregrinii nu sunt puțini

Dar ne mințim ca să păstrăm jocul

Dar noi nu aparținem de pământ

Și ne îndoim mereu ca un pai

Dar finalul nu este la mormânt

Iar Acasă ne vom regăsi numai în Rai

Dar așteptăm ca pe terasă

Și zilnic ne topim de dor

O, Doamne, vreau acasă

Chiar și înainte să mor

___________________

TRANSLATION

Nowhere is home

-Alexandra D.

"There's no place like home"

As the folk saying goes

The sweet word that leaves

A bitter taste of longing afterwards

Often nostalgia tries us

When memory is rewritten in the mind

But allow me the madness

Of contradicting that premise

Nowhere is home

Such a thing doesn't even exist

But who even cares

When the illusion persists?

Home is neither the block

By the boulevard, the second floor

Which was almost touched by fire

And where we lived, when we were little

Home is neither the rug under the table

Which the old iron made a hole through

Where, alone, I built myself a house

Glowstick bracelets hanging behind my ears

Even when it seemed like the only shelter

Not even my childhood place

Could not bring me peace

Or protect me from evil

Daily I was crying to myself

After some insult or humiliation

"I want home" when life is hard

And after vain struggle

But even there, I was alone

My dilemmas were too ridiculous

But (and what did I expect?)

The problems were always all the same

Nobody in the world thinks like me

Such ridiculous and alien ideas

And worries about evil and good

Since the times they still made cave paintings

We four ran away to the Promised Land

Almost with no preparation

But with incredible excitement

Finally, the road to my "home"

"You are one of us" they'll say

But any disagreement is taxed

And the sun already sets over me

And my destiny is copied in a Xerox

Home is neither the apartment

Not the rented one, not the brick one

Much less is the compartment

Of my mind, coiled like a caterpillar

Neither the thousand dream worlds

Have at least one place to hold me

Nor the songs, swinging an encore

Don't soothe my homesickness anymore

But the abandoned place, was that a home

No, that one had spit us out

It cannot come back now, humbled

And everything to be as it was

Because it wasn't ideal even then

And nor is it perfect now

But home is not a real place

And memory is a defective landmark

Home is the space of a flight

Towards it the soul in hardship years

It is the purpose of many burning prayers

When we want to escape the whirlwind of life

Nowhere is home

It never was

In my soul, I hide under the table

Although I know it's in vain

And even if I ran away

And I would pass the ocean and the sea

And I would fly directly to Mars

Home is not to be seen on the horizon

And if I reached in centuries past

Among the dance of crinolines

They don't put an end to my loneliness

And they wouldn't accept me anyway

Not even if I found my fairytale prince

And had a thousand friends invited at my table

All of it, though real, would be phantoms

And I wouldn't find a home in the arms of my beloved

Not even in bed do I find my place

And I'm a stranger even in my own body

But I buried the shock inside me

About a footlong pole deep

It's as if I'm a nuisance to others

And everywhere I feel like an intruder

And no matter how high I climb

The goal is moved even higher

What planet did I fall from

If I don't even understand myself?

However, if only they knew

That daily I pick myself off the ground

Although, looking up as if to an equestrian statue

I notice in their eyes a vulnerable glimmer

It seems I'm not the only one who feels like an alien

Not even the most honourable person is home

Yes, we are all strangers here

None of us find our place

And the pilgrims are not few

But we lie to keep up the game

But we don't belong to the earth

And we always bend like a straw

But the end is not in the grave

And we will find ourselves only in Heaven

But we wait as if on a porch

And daily we melt from yearning

Oh, Lord, I want home

Fried rats

My child is a huge fan of "Oblivion" game. And he got a dream to play not just a character, but a goblin, who sit in a cave and fry rat.

I didn't resist and fried some rats for him

So I got an ask on Danish that was about how I found the courage to come out, and I think I wanna tell this piece of advice to a bigger audience, in a language most of my followers will understand.

When I came out to my parents, my mom specifically, I was very young and I didn’t understand that to most people, being LGBTQ+ was seen as weird and negative. I didn’t even know the term for what I was, I just told her “hey mom, I think my best friend is kind of sweet in a romantic way.”

My mom took it... better than others would, probably. She told me it was fine and that I could love whomever I wanted to. Then she proceeded to tell me that I couldn’t marry a girl because I would be disrespecting Jesus.

When I came out to my classmates, I was comfortable and confident enough in myself and my sexuality to not care if they reacted badly. I am who I am, I didn’t need them to give me validation to be who I am.

So for me, it’s less about finding the courage to come out, but more about finding the courage to be who I am unapologetically, because in the end, I’d rather be true to myself and who I am, than lie and pretend I’m someone that I’m not.

And if the person you’re coming out to doesn’t understand all of that or respect it and you, then maybe, whether it’s your parents, your friends, or someone completely third, then they aren’t worth you, your time, and your energy.

This is just how it was for me though, so take this advice how you will.

The translated post

___

I love the fact that this rivalry between Metallica and Depeche Mode used to exist during my parents' time. And dad was telling me about this whole deal and he was like "I wasn't involved in all of this, I was listening to disco, like Modern Talking etc" which is an Enlightened Centrist moment. But what's funnier is that his whole squad were Depeche Mode fans. My man had no time for musical elitism. He resisted peer pressure. Literally good for him. Iconic

___

The cultural context:

OK so!!!! This is so exciting to me, unironically!!! I've been waiting to write about this ever since the day I wrote about the rock lore in Romania

So we all know how 80s Romania was. Not much really controversial stuff allowed. Sex Pistols for example was banned and the document banning it called it "British band called Punk" lmao. But very uncontroversial stuff like pop and disco music was allowed and widely enjoyed. And the two most popular rock bands that were allowed were Metallica and Depeche Mode. Now I know I'm not gen X; that's my parents generation. But from what I've heard dad say and other people his age say, that was THE rivalry. And it was cold blooded. It was life vs death baby. Are you with US or are you with THEM?

Language explanation. Romanian has a lot of isms and ists. A Metallica fan is a "metalist". A Depeche Mode fan is a "depeșist". And in late 80s early 90s Romania you were either a metalist or a depeșist. As I said above, my dad's closest friends were hardcore Depeche Mode fans. (Watch people with Metallica fan parents crucify me in the original post for this. Half joking. It's ok guys my dad listened to neither lmao).

As a gen Z this is hilarious to me mostly because of how dualistic it all is. Like sure it's in our Romanian blood to be little haters and elitists. And for being an oppressed minority (exaggerating here but you get what I'm referring to), rock fans sure have a reputation of being very gatekeeping. And yet. I didn't really see that level of high-school infighting during my own times. Sure people judged each other a lot over what they listened to. But I think the difference is precisely in the politics. Of course a generation raised in a non democratic regime is going to be divided in a very black vs white way, whereas a generation raised 20-30 years into democracy will be divided into many more groups, and much smaller ones.

So if my dad was a bit of a Centrist (OK obviously the majority of people listened to disco rather than rock in 80s/ 90s Romania) for not playing into the us vs them of Metallica vs Depeche Mode, my generation is kind of... the opposite?? On the one hand, most people when I was in middle school thought you were uncool if you didn't like the newest releases of the hottest new artists (late 2000s/early 2010s), but on the other hand, the truly cool listened to the indiest of indie music. My cooler older friend introduced me to the Neighbourhood. I know you'll say they're very famous. That's the point I'm getting at. Now my hometown was super small and maybe not an accurate representation. After all we were all shocked when the teacher's son formed a metal band with his buddies when in high-school. But when I moved in my current city people were much more grouped in squads. And in college got to see people in much more niche subcultures than before. And it's very normalised nowadays by the way, in big cities especially. One of the girls in the student council comes to uni everyday in full on goth gf gear. My point about my generation is that it simultaneously shows a lot of conformism and a lot of division is increasingly small niches.

With Millennials it's kinda different I think. Depends whether it's an older (80s kid) or younger (90s kid) Millennial. That's quite the generational divide in and of itself because of history. Like the latter were 10 years old when communism ended and the others were born just then or immediately afterwards and you can absolutely tell that there's a difference between the two age groups. Older Millennials I've only had bad experiences with in terms of getting harshly judged over music tastes, such as my English teacher (late 30s going on 40 in 2018 ish so she must be born in like... 1980??) making sweeping generalisations about us young people not knowing classics such as Jimmy Hendrix, or that radio show presenter who came into our school and refused basically all our input and then went on a tirade about how 90s hiphop is the best genre ever. But that's my personal experience so idk. Younger Millennials, again in my personal interactions with them, I've seen are less judgemental and more nostalgic I guess. Like oh nobody makes music like Red Hot Chili Peppers anymore :(.

But I'm already diverging. I hope you learned at least a little something about Romanian post communist history and culture today.

What is this?? A surprise poll?!

Оригинальный пост/Original post

К последней главе «ПДТН» мне написали комментарий, который заставил меня осознать кое-что в моем взгляде на персонажей — а именно разницу между Лиззи и Сиэле, и то, как она влияет на мою работу, — и мне захотелось продублировать его здесь и немного расширить ответ. ДЛЯ ЯСНОСТИ: я НЕ критикую комментатора и не злюсь на него. Просто подумала, что было бы интересно задокументировать ход моих мыслей для ясности и потомков.

Комментарий, о котором идет речь:

«Мне немного грустно из-за Лиззи с Сибилой. Разве у них нет возможности сделать то же самое, что сделали Сиэль и Себастьян? Лиззи, пожелай она, могла бы обратиться, но сдается мне, она планирует остаться человеком, что звучит для меня как-то скучно… лол»

Мой ответ:

«Возможно, мне стоило сделать это яснее — Сибила не полностью демон, так что она не может обратить Лиззи, поскольку они не связаны контрактом. Также я не думаю, что Лиззи хотела бы жить вечно, не всем, на мой взгляд, подходит бессмертие. То, что Сиэль будет жить вечно, для меня куда логичнее, ведь в какой-то мере он уже был оторван от своей человечности и жаждал контроля и власти, что делает вечную жизнь/демонические силы естественным для него переходом. Я не вижу такое развитие сюжета для Лиззи. Я думаю, Лиззи слишком человечна, думаю, она испытывает слишком сильное сопереживание и любовь к своим собратьям-людям, чтобы жить, оторванной от них. Разумеется, это всего лишь мое мнение. Но никаких спойлеров, история еще не завершилась!»

А теперь позвольте развить эту мысль:

Мне всегда было важно, чтобы сюжет моих историй существовал/развивался только в той мере, в которой он бы соответствовал мотивам/характерам персонажей, в нем задействованных. Мне часто пишут, что я хорошо прописываю героев, и вот почему. Я обращаю внимание на то, как персонажи действуют, чувствую и существуют в мире канона, и стараюсь подражать этому настолько, насколько могу при написании не каноничных историй и описании отношений не каноничных персонажей. Естественно, у разных авторов, читателей и поклонников разное восприятие персонажей, но я всегда буду придерживаться своего, ибо это единственное восприятие, которое у меня есть.

Я говорю это в надежде, что, когда я объясню, почему я поступила так, как поступила, вы поймете причину.

В восьмой главе «ПДТН» Клод описывает Алоису природу связующего ритуала. Он описывает ее следующими словами:

«Как гласит история, жил некогда демон, один из первых, кто принял фаустовский образ существования. Он так сильно полюбил своего хозяина, а хозяин — демона, что по завершении контракта ни один не желал разлучаться с другим. В качестве решения демон придумал ритуал… Новообращенный демон создается из силы уже существующего контракта, что, в свою очередь, создает беспрерывный обмен энергией. Сила одного демона питает силу другого и ей же питается.»

Этот ритуал, как я его представляю, может быть проведен только полноценным демоном, над душой, с которой его уже связывает действующий фаустовский контракт. Мне кажется, я дала понять это достаточно ясно. Сибиле, поскольку она не является демоном до конца, не нужно поглощать души для поддержания жизни, да и делать этого она не может, а следовательно, и заключить фаустовский контракт с человеком тоже. Она не смогла бы обратить Лиззи в бессмертную, хотели бы они того или нет.

И, честно говоря, я не думаю, что Лиззи избрала бы такую жизнь, даже если бы это было возможно. Почему же нет? Сиэль вот не мог дождаться, и разве не было бы романтичнее, если бы Лиззи и Сибила остались вместе навечно? Прошу вас набраться терпения, я еще доберусь до этого.

Многие из нас порой хотели бы жить вечно, многие (включая меня) бояться старости/смерти, одни сильней других. Очевидные минусы бессмертия часто обсуждаются в литературных/фэндомных пространствах — пережить своих любимых, скука и так далее. Но что (по моему мнению) не обсуждается достаточно, так это тот факт, что бессмертие требует жить отдельно от людей, несмотря на сходство с ними. Выбрать вечную жизнь значит выбрать отчуждение от человечества и при этом все равно быть вынужденным существовать под его влиянием. И я считаю, что черты некоторых людей просто не приспособлены для этого.

В этом, дорогой читатель, и кроется загвоздка — думаю, у Лиззи те самые неподходящие черты.

Во-первых, давайте взглянем на Сиэля. В некоторой степени они с Лиззи являются противоположностью друг друга на протяжении всей истории, проходя через одни и те же сюжетные линии/ходы, но их восприятие, мотивы и чувства разнятся.

Сиэль, на мой взгляд, отличный кандидат для бессмертной жизни. Из-за своего высокого положения в обществе и детской травмы он всегда был отделен от жизни простого человека (и людей в целом). В нем уже сидит семя недовольства своей смертностью, как и отвращение ко многим поступкам людей, которые он воспринимает как нечто глупое, грязное и стоящее ниже него. Что-то в нем всегда было оторвано от остальных людей, и это отделяло его от жизни смертного, даже до ритуала.

В нем также есть врожденная жажда иметь силу и власть, как и готовность делать что угодно, чтобы достигнуть их и сохранить, даже ценой своих смертных собратьев. А что дает больше силы и власти, чем свобода от самой смерти? И есть так же то обстоятельство, что его судьба и душа тесно переплетены с Себастьяном, уже бессмертным существом, которое пойдет на все, чтобы остаться с ним навечно. Так что, с точки зрения точного прописания персонажа, обратить Сиэля в демона, сделать его бессмертным, было легким решением.

Лиззи, с другой стороны, (опять-таки, по моему личному мнению) слишком человечна. В своей задаче по избавлению ее от детского характера, который видно у нее в аниме, я отыскала в ней человека, который, как и Сиэль, имеет глубокие убеждения и обладает упрямством, но, в отличие от своего кузена, Лиззи любит других и сострадает им, что ограничивает ее способность мыслить объективно и делать все необходимое для достижения цели.

Более того, у Лиззи нет амбиций Сиэля, и нет той изначально заложенной оторванности от людской расы, которая лежит в основе его характера. Вот почему контраст между ними работает, и почему они никогда не будут до конца сходиться во мнениях, даже когда идут к одной и той же конечной цели.

Проще выражаясь, я считаю, что Лиззи слишком сильно скучала бы по своей человеческой жизни. Думаю, несмотря на присущий нам всем страх перед смертью, она хочет состариться, в полной мере испытать все этапы человеческой жизни. Не думаю, что она смогла бы жить в качестве зрителя человеческой саги, думаю, ей нужно быть в ней актером. Поэтому я никогда серьезно не рассматривала идею сделать ее бессмертной и не планирую делать этого в «ПДТН». Не скажу ничего о том, что случится в финале, но это то, чего не будет.

[From an official SE post in German, translated by Moon]

You hold them in your hand every day, but have you ever asked yourself, "Whose face is on my Gil coins?" It's the profile of Nymeia, the goddess of fortune -- a symbol of good luck!

The gil was first brought to Eorzea circa 100 years ago, so it's still rather new. At that time, the economies of the city-states were at their peak during a period of conflict which has become known as the "Spring War." The six large city-states banded together to found a common currency and to unify trade.

They decided in favour of the gil -- the currency of the ancient Allagan civilisation which once stretched across all Eorzea. In order to avoid further debate, they chose not to use a symbol of any particular culture, but rather one that is familar to all inhabitants of Eorzea: The Twelve.

But there are several variants of gil coins, and not on all of them can one of the Twelve be seen.