Ozzy's Thoughts

Are Now Your Problem

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

I know

I'm annoying

But

I know

For a second

I saw

A genuine

Smile

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

His aura is shaded. Dark purples and blues swirling; Sometimes fading to black. Is it trauma? Depression? Just a hatred for school? I want to know. But his aura is a poison cloud. A wall against the unknown.

... Or perhaps it's my own, clouding my judgement.

He talks freely to others, where I do not. So the problem might be me. Yet I cannot shake the feeling he will brush me off. I am nothing to him.

So I will wait. Until a sign comes. For I am too afraid to speak without restraint.

And I will not make the same mistake twice.

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

It's refreshing listening to band in some ways. A reminder of the good times I had before commiting to something I wasn't ready for.

Maybe I'll see if I sent him the piece I wrote.

Of course, I'm no longer needed there. They have enough percussionists that I can go be and simply do what I do best.

The shaker is slowing down though. And the Trumpets off-key. Claranets a bit uncontrolled. Flutes a bit above beat. That's what makes it band in the end. The imperfections. It hurts my ears if it gets too out of hand I admit. But the struggle of everyone trying to blend, stay on beat, and be anything but forte... There's a magic to it.

I miss it some days. Sitting in the back, secretly slipping off my heels so I didn't die. Being the driving force. My choir director still trusts me to be auxiliary percussion which is amazing.

They never add anything new it feels. Tis a shame. But that's the Pop's Concert.

Feels a bit fast for their drummer. Unfocused on the stacattos. The same problems we always had.

Refreshing. I hope they do well.

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

At what point do you let go of an experience that haunts your every move?

That one year of Symphonic crushed me. It was as if the Director hated my guts. Nothing I did could please him. I was never good enough. I wrote an entire song; Turned it into a flex piece to accommodate the sporadic nature of the virtual band. Never any feedback. Never any word to say I had hope.

Now every class... If I fall behind, I lose hope. I try to run because I'm crippled by fear of disappointing the teacher.

And I stand before a new trial. He is not part of it, but his voice haunts me. Saying I'll never make it. I'm a disappointment.

I just... Don't know....

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

Inner Monologue

Come on, this isn't your first concert.

What an astute observation. You want to tell me about the weather too?

*Exhausted sigh* Must you be so on edge?

YES! I AM THE PERCUSSION MAN! A SLIP UP WILL BE HEARD OVER THE ENTIRE CHOIR!

... Okay I can't argue that-

SEE?!

But, you remember last time don't you?

What about it?

The one time it was audible was because you went to an unpracticed pattern. You will not have that chance today.

Fackin' Jambo being acapella....

Eyes on the prize Ozzy. This is nothing compared to the rest of the week.

Don't remind me...

You keep cutting me off. The rest of the week is nothing compared to what you have faced in the past years. You walked through heart-break, loss, and rejection. It was not flawless, but no one can go through those things perfectly. And each time, you somehow emerged even more you.

... You are still confused on how I do that.

Of fucking course I do, but that's beside the point. The director could've done the percussion herself. Hell, she planned on doing so for Fight Song. But instead, she chose you, putting her trust in another.

.... Damn it why do you always have such good arguments.

They're about you. A person who harnesses their past to write poetry and songs. Mr. Percussion Man, scorned by the band director for being "unprofessional", and unappreciative of you writing an entire fucking song for the Band. Most people consider it an honor for a piece to be written with them in mind.... Wait... That's the root of your insecurity isn't it.

... Oh my god it is. FUCK YOU! I'M GOING TO GO PROVE YOUR ASS WRONG!

And off he goes... Well Reader, I hope this has been as eye-opening for you as it was us. Perhaps I'll convince him to write more in this style.

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

TW: Mentions R*pe

You know, I didn't expect my junior year to include a r*pe report. But I take after my sibling I guess; I'm the easiest to tell.

Of course it was between 2 people I know. Of course I only got one side. I was shaken to the core and was in a panic so bad I needed to be taken out of school.

Monday. Word has gotten out. She must've told more than just me, cause I haven't said shit. There is only so much choir can help when you're congested. Exhaustion creeping in, but what am I to do? School is the distraction I need. Digital Murder can come after.

And yet it will not leave my mind. The pain; The shocked feeling of being hit by a truck. The sick feeling that I knew that man.... And it wasn't as hard to believe.

The one she blamed for lack of support told her not to go. Begged her to stay in that safe place. I know they never intended me to get dragged into this but it's too late. I was chosen to make this problem end.

It's tiring when you have to be the hero.

But I guess it is what I signed up for.

If only I didn't have to constantly hear his name.

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

A small puddle remains on the roof from the snow we got a week ago. The sky flirts with the earth, playfully threatening to release rain. It never does.

But the wind gusts, twisting and turning in a dance only it knows; Making the water twist and ripple in turn. Streaks, circles, waves. There is no guessing what will come next.

I wonder if that puddle is meant to be my life. The winds of fate toying with my sanity, always causing problems I can never expect, only for life to return to normal before the next gust.

I'd like it to stop blowing.

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

"Hey Ozzy, why did you wake up and choose violence?"

Because I'm exhausted despite proper sleep, having headaches, in pain, and all of it might be from the ONE ANTI-VAXX IDIOT THAT WENT TO AN ANTI-VAXX RALLY AND GAVE MY FAMILY COVID!!!

It's been a month and I still feel partially like shit. Don't underestimate this damn virus people!

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

What is wrong with me?

A month out from covid. Sleep out of whack. Constantly nauseous. Hot cold roulette. Is it mental health affecting physical or physical affecting mental?

I've got no way to know. No one will take me seriously.

I haven't seen a therapist in a month and I am therapissed. School is a struggle I cannot keep fighting through. It's too much. But I have to go on. Do I have to go on?

I wanna be a writer. I've got to finish that song. But then who will listen to me? I broke down at martial arts and was unable to think.

Is it mental health affecting physical, or physical affecting mental?

I need a day I don't have to find who I am again. I lost me somewhere back in the flood. Yet everyone is acting like it was just a few drops of rain.

It's unfair that people can be out half the year and still pass. Meanwhile I'm clinging on to a telephone pole in a hurricane. They all say it's just a little breeze, but I'm outside the eye of the storm. I'm out of time.

Is it physical health affecting mental, or mental affecting physical?

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

I'm watching the supports I thought I could lean on vanish into silence.

Not even a yes or no for salt in the wound

Made a crucial mistake in trust

I screwed up

I admit it

But the reset button's suddenly locked

This year's already started killing me

One punch after another; Only so much I can block.

I wonder how I'm still moving?

Glancing back at him despite the pain

Does he realize I feel like he's angry and upset?

The tone in his head could be all in my head

And yet nothing said will stop me from believing it's real.

The one time I cried for help you weren't there

But I thought you told me you'd never be too late

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

"You'll only get a mild cold if you get Covid with Vaccines"

Trigger warning for the squeamish

Good for you. Mine was 3-4 days of hell.

It was a sore throat for a few days. Then I decided to relax in the shower and it hit me like a bus. I still had to try to attend school as I was having a temperature crisis.

I couldn't eat any of those days due to dry heaving. Light hurt. Being awake hurt. My throat was raw from cold air.

My mother had it worse. It's been 2 weeks and she still sounds like a chain smoker when she coughs. She's never smoked a day in her life.

My way out was induced vomitting. I used milk to take tylenol and prayed both worked. An hour of waiting with a bucket and I finally coughed it all up.

Somehow, after that, I was fine.

I had a bit of potato right after, and my fever disappeared, as did my headache. I felt lighter. My best guess is that the dry heaving indicated there was something in my stomach that needed out. It might not even have been covid at that rate since the flu is running around too.

Regardless it sucked.

I'm not here to be anti-vax. In fact we traced this back to a coworker who went to an anti-vax rally. I'm here to say take every precaution. Nothing makes you invincible. But everything can help.

Do not try my stunt at home either. I'm a certified dumbass. Don't take advice from the certified dumbass.

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

“Alright, but in this timeline he hesitated.”

"Milord, why the hesitation? You've come so far."

His first in command was right. He'd come far. So many sacrifices had been made in order to gain the ultimate power. He just needed to step forward and end it before the enemy got to him.

And yet his feet refused to move, bound by all the tragedy he had caused. He embarked on a journey to protect his loved ones but broke apart countless families. Would their deaths be in vain if he never moved?

He looked at his right hand man and saw for split second, a smirk. The look of crazed for power he'd come to recognize. He grabbed hold of the necklace they had given him... And the chain snapped with the force he controlled.

"Indeed, I have come far... But here and now, I say it ends."

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

My GM Makes Me Practice Not Poetry

The binds within a cave break of with the heat of the angry pheonix. Just as he had planned. Igniting his sword with as icy flame, he surged forward, assuming there was nothing left to do but slay the bird. Everything was just like he'd read in the book of the old library. 

"NOT TODAY!" 

Even the lowly heroes were playing their part, marching to their doom as the pheonix readied it's flame. He thrusted down his sword to seal his enemies into an icy tomb and claim his prize... 

... That didn't hit the ground. That was flesh. He looked down. 

"H-Hi... dad..." 

"Niia...?" 

His eldest's arm was frozen to the ground. The child was no more than 10. The pheonix pointed his mouth down to his sword, his child, in order to destroy the one thing in the world that could end it's life. He had a choice. 

So he stepped in front of the flame. 

He had heard death was supposed to be swift. A sudden black that whisks your soul away. This... Was a lot of boiling, burning sensations. Memories of his research flowed around him the the light.... And then memories of his family he had thrown away. Comparing the two, it wasn't worth it.... Saving his son was. 

More pain, this time in dark, but this didn't feel like an end. 

He opened his eyes and saw bandages. 

But most importantly, he saw his son's face.

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

If gay person is missing that they're getting hit on by their prefered gender

If a trans person tries to hint at their pronouns and no one picks up on it

If someone keeps hitting on someone who is clearly Ace

Are they missing the LGBT Cues?

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

Have you not heard my tales and songs? How jealousy hath led fools to cast me out and call me a witch? How I have traveled far to hone my voice, that I might rise to be remembered for centuries?

I am Asrin Ceceilia Mackearn, or Ozzy! The Wandering Bard that can spin a song from their very fingertips! Outcasted from their home Kingdom on false accusations of weaving magic! Has my name truly been slandered to oblivion?!

... Would a song, perhaps, finally spark your memory?

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

Every day I wonder what I'm doing here. Learning things people took years to discover. It feels as if I won't be prepared for anything once I get out. As if my only hope is for a rich person to come adopt me so I can spend my life writing as I please. But I am no optimist. No prince is coming to sweep me away. And yet? I write like my life depends on it.

Reality slaps me again and again, screaming for me to get my act in gear and find a career worth pursuing. I refuse. I will blindly cling on to my pen and pray it'll take me somewhere. I'm not fit to be a coorperate slave. Where can I run? I don't know. But anywhere has to be better than here.

The drum is my heartbeat and words my lifeblood. It feels like if either stops flowing, I'm doomed to a fate worse than death. And yet I have no clue where to go from here. I need guidance I have no way to receive. I'm stuck in an ocean of unknowns.

Am I drowning?

[ozzyisaboredwriter]

My sibling got the Pokemon remake recently. Got stuck, but is enjoying themselves. They kept clips so when I visit, I can see what some of the new mechanics are. During one of these clips... I saw what part of their team had my namesake...

It was a Starly.

My first reaction was offense. They had so many others they could've named me after. Their starter, the Budew, or the Shinx? No. I was the Starly. Tiny little birb.

But there was something I forgot.

Most veterans know... Starly by itself is a bit meh. But it evolves into Staraptor. Trained right? It's a force to be reckoned with. And that bird was not leaving their team.

They never really stick to one team now that HMs aren't needed. The Budew; The Shinx? They might not stay on that team. But Starly? They are there to stay.

And that's why they choose my name.

So I sit here now close to tears... And I wonder... Who is my Starly? Maybe they aren't a Starly for me, but they are still the Pokemon that will always have my back. They'll never leave my team. Everyone needs that person really.

Maybe you are someone's Starly. You just don't know it yet.

But they? They know. And they're eternally grateful.