#undisclosedtask

[biancaldesousas]

Piece by Piece by Kelly Clarkson

P i e c e  by piece he collected me up off the ground but you  a b a n d o n e d  things

And  p i e c e  by piece he filled the  h o l e s  that you burned in me at  s i x  y e a r s  o l d

And you know

He  n e v e r walks away, he  n e v e r  asks for money, he takes c a r e  of me,

He l o v e s  me

Piece by p i e c e  he restored my  f a i t h   that a man could be k i n d

And a father could  s t a y

TASK # 2

[zgmund-blog]

GLORY AND GORE by LORDE

no one ‘round here’s good at keeping their eyes closed the sun's starting to light up when we're walking home tired little laughs, gold lie promises, we'll always win at this, I don't ever think about death it's alright if you do, it's fine

we gladiate but I guess we're really fighting ourselves roughing up our minds so we're ready when the kill time comes wide awake in bed, words in my brain, "secretly you love this, do you even wanna go free?" let me in the ring, I'll show you what that big word means

The thing about Zig is that he sort of has a death wish, even if he doesn’t realize it. He might not actively want to die or to even risk his life, but he repeatedly does so when he gets in the ring to fight. It’s a source of proverbial therapy for him in a way, working out his aggression so it won’t seep into other portions of his life. The other part of his desire to fight is that it gives him a sense of purpose. He trains at the gym and does fights regularly now, so he’s gotten quite good. For a person who doesn’t think much of themselves, this is a huge deal for Zig. As of right now, he’s lucked out in the fact that all of his cuts and bruises have been minor. They’re easily masked with clothing, or if they’re visible, explained away by mundane incidents. There’s no telling how long that’ll keep up but Zig’s idealistically (and narcissistically) confident in the fact that his cover won’t be blown. If something goes terribly wrong at a fight, the only person who would know about it is Tiny, but Zig doesn’t plan on getting hurt any time soon.

[zgmund-blog]

5 character headcanons - undisclosed task one

Ideally, Zig’s mom hoped for a gentle, mild-mannered son. When he was growing up, she could almost believe that Zig would come to be just that. His father was an angry man, prone to bouts of rage if the right combination of work stress and alcohol were mixed together. All she wanted was for her only son to be spared that trait, so that other people in his life down the line would never have to face that situation at Zig’s hands.

While Zig’s dad eventually moved away from the household (see: abandoned the family without warning or a way to contact him) it seemed that his more aggressive traits had seeped into his son. It was never towards her, but Zig would frequently end up in fights at school. Teasing was usually the thing that prompted it. He came from a low-income family, making it so he had to rely on programs like free lunch and shop at secondhand stores. All Zig wanted was to blend in with his peers, but more often than not, he stuck out like a sore thumb when he donned pants that didn’t quite reach his legs or didn’t have the school supplies he needed. His temper flared any time he was pushed too far. It landed him in detention many a time, and only fueled his mother’s worry that Zig would truly become his father’s son.

At this point, Zig’s mom can hardly look at him without seeing the future he’ll have if he doesn’t work on himself. The rift between them feels insurmountable to Zig, but he’s been able to take a small comfort in the friends he’s made -- namely Tiny. The boy’s life is an intense and oftentimes scary one, and while Zig knows that, he still wants to remain entwined in it. Friends of Vince’s and the people who usually hang around their house have influenced him, namely the guys who street fight. Zig’s interest in the sport is beginning to grow and eventually, he wants to talk to one of the guys to see if he can give it a shot.

Aside from his dysfunctional life concerning his family and connection to Vince, (which ought to be enough of a struggle for one person all on its own) Zig considers his lack of a true talent a problem. He can dabble in things, casually picking up some skills but never applying himself enough to become adept at them. He’s tried music, skateboarding, and more recently cooking. Despite how many hobbies he tries on, Zig can never envision his future fully. There’s always a hole in the spot where he should have a rewarding career, or at least a general direction to go in. While all his friends have distinct interests, Zig feels like a drifter of sorts. Grace has her computer skills, Tiny can dance like no one’s business, and Maya’s inevitably going to become a superstar one day. But Zig thinks he might not ever amount to anything.

It shouldn’t be a surprise by now that Zig is chock full of insecurities. One of the things that gnaws at him, namely when he has a crush on someone, is the fact that he feels incapable of being a good boyfriend. With Tori, he wound up breaking her heart. With Maya, the saga is almost too tangled to work out. He feels as though he has a knack for hurting the girls he cares about. While it’s never physically, he considers emotionally spurning them just as bad. Every time he ponders it, he remembers his mom’s warnings not to take after his father. That’s truly his worst fear -- winding up alone because he’s a hazard for anyone he falls for. The times he’s helped people become irrelevant when stacked up against his failings.

[150milesph-blog]

[fcacoyne-archive]

Task -- make a playlist (describing Fiona) #006 Listen -- Here Tracks -- 10 songs listed below the cut. with lyrics I thought best fit Triggers -- alcoholism, abuse

#001 -- “Oh Well” by Fiona Apple

“ What you did to me made me see myself something different. Though, I try to talk sense to myself but I just won’t listen. ... What you did to me made me see myself something awful. A voice once stentorian is now again meek and muffled. ”

#002 -- “Fighter” by Christina Aguilera

“ I heard that you’re going ‘round playing the victim now. But, don’t even begin feeling I’m the one to blame ‘cause you dug your own grave. ”

#003 -- “I Kissed a Girl” by Jill Sobule

“ Kissed a girl won’t change the world but I’m so glad I kissed the girl (for the first time) ”

#004 -- “Lucky” by Britney Spears

“ She cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart thinking; ‘If there’s nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?’ ”

#005 -- “Pressure” by Paramore

“ ‘Cause I fear I might break, and I fear I can’t take it. Tonight I’ll lie awake, feeling empty. ”

#006 -- “There She Goes” by Sixpence None The Richer

“ There she goes, there she goes again. Pulsing through my veins. And I just can't contain this feeling that remains ”

#007 -- “Rehab” by Amy Winehouse

“ I don’t ever want to drink again. I just, ooh, just need a friend. I’m not gonna spend ten weeks to have everyone think I’m on the mend. ”

#008 -- “I Am Changing” from Dreamgirls Motion Picture Soundtrack

“ I am changing, seeing everything so clear. I am changing, I’m gonna start right now, right here. I’m hoping to work it out and I know I can. But, I need you, I need a hand.  ... I am changing, I’ll get my life together now. I am changing, yes, I know how. I’m gonna start again. I’m gonna leave my past behind.”

#009 -- “Better Version of Me” by Fiona Apple

“ I am likely to miss the main event if I stop to cry or complain again. So I will keep a deliberate pace, let the damned breeze dry my face ”

#010 -- “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + the Machine

“ She hid around corners and she hid under beds. She killed it with kisses and from it she fled. With every bubble she sank with a drink, and washed it away down the kitchen sink ”

[yaelbrn-blog]

Yael records a video diary in an attempt to better understand her dyslexia.

“March first two thousand and sixteen. Eleven twenty three PM. Location: My bedroom.

I’m trying something new here. I’ve noticed that keeping a traditional journal of written thoughts isn’t exactly working for me. It’s hard to really value a journal if you can’t go back and reread what you wrote. So instead, I figured I’d try a video diary. Just me, myself, and also my webcam. I guess this is better than nothing. Anyway, tonight’s topic: The current source of my suffering.

I guess I’ll just jump right into it. No holding back, Yael, you can do this. Here we go: I can’t do the things I love. It just gets harder and harder, you know? Like comic books. I used to go to the comic shop twice a week after school let out and go home with a huge stack of new ones, but at some point, I just stopped bothering to because when I get home and open them up to read them I just… can’t. I can’t read them right. I felt like I was focusing too hard, and sometimes everything would be fine for a while, but then things start to get all hazy and I just have to stop because it’s too difficult.

I told my mom about it. She took me to the eye doctor, they ran some tests and gave me this crazy strong prescription for glasses. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely needed glasses, but they didn’t exactly help with everything that was wrong. Sure, things got less blurry, but I still couldn’t read my comics the right way. I told my mom about it and she brushed me off, saying how I just needed some time to get used to wearing my glasses. And trust me, I gave it time; I gave it so much time, but it didn’t help.

I just… even gaming is difficult. The resolution on the screens for my gaming rig… I struggle with that even. It’s like whenever there’s text on the screen, I can’t make it out properly. But it’s not just my hobbies, it’s even happening at school. And I’m smart. I know I’m smart. But I’m struggling all the time, and I try so hard to pretend that I’m not because my biggest fear is that my teachers or other students will think I’m stupid, and I really don’t need another reason for people to pick on me, you know? And I take extra long to finish reading and written assignments, and I don’t want my teachers to think I’m just being lazy, because I’m not. I might hate school sometimes, but I always get my work done. Always. I just mean that it’s not for a lack of trying. I just need extra time and I know that one day, a teacher is going to reject me or fail me for being lazy and… and I’m not. I know I’m not.

I guess I just want to know what’s happening to me. Is it this hard for everyone? Does everyone struggle to do the most basic tasks? And if they don’t, why do I? Was it all this years of gaming? Has staring at a screen super intently for so long destroyed my eyesight beyond repair? It sounds ridiculous, but what else could it be?

Anyway, I guess that’s it. Night One, complete. Talking to myself for fifteen minutes… it’s pretty strange. But if this is the only way I can record my thoughts and easily understand them later on… I guess it’s a necessary evil. So… goodnight? I guess? I’ll have to think of a better outro at some point."

[quarterbacktorres-blog]

Forty ounces to freedom is the only chance I have to feel good, even though I feel bad.  

Drew hid himself behind the bleachers as he watched the Panthers football team's home opener of the season. He should be out there, leading his team onto the field, not some untalented Grade 10 who's name no one's even heard of. He took a swig from his bottle of choice for the night, he had grown partial to Jameson whiskey as it had become his drink of choice when he was feeling upset. Drew had a type of liquor for every feeling, vodka when he felt like partying, rum when he felt like relaxing before bed, beer in the middle of the day and whiskey was for when he wanted to disappear. He tortured himself watching and nitpicking every part of the game, replacing the quarterback with himself in his head and telling himself what he would have done differently. 

"I'm sorry, Andrew. But with an injury like this, if you even try to play, we will see you back here in less than a week. You will see more tears in that knee and the likely-hood of being able to walk will become more and more slim. I'm sorry, but you cannot play football anymore."

The words played over and over in his head. All it took was one play, one missed block, one second to end his football career. No one understood, Adam and his mother tried encouraging him to find other hobbies but he never wanted to hear it, he had nothing else, there was nothing else he was good at. As Drew continued to watch the game, he began to feel sick. He couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or being so upset that he would make himself sick from time to time. "Screw this." He pushed himself off the ground, stumbling as he got up. He couldn't watch this anymore, it was only tearing at his heart seeing someone else take his place. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as he walked away from the field, he hated crying, he hated feeling this way but he felt it every day.

"Drew, you can't sit up here all day. You need to find something to do." Audra pleaded with his son, it hurt to see him so down on himself. She felt helpless as a mother, she couldn't get him out of bed most days. "Drew...please, honey." Drew rolled over in his bed to face his mother, sitting up he grew angrier. "What do you want from me? You don't get it! No one does! I have nothing okay? I'm not good at anything else! I have nothing! Just leave me alone." He rolled back over, his back towards Audra as he buried his face in his pillow to keep himself from crying again. Audra stood there staring at him, almost in tears at the sight of seeing her son so hurt and down on himself.

Drinking was the only thing that made him feel better anymore, he couldn't think when he drank and that's exactly what he wanted. He didn't want to think about how worthless he was without football or how he had nothing left to live for if he couldn't play anymore. He used to be happy, he used to have fun and now, unless he was drinking, there was no way for him to be happy. After some time, he was standing outside of his house, he had no idea how he even got there, the past twenty minutes were a blur. He went to take another drink from his bottle but was only able to get a drop out of it. "God dammit!" He shouted as he turned around and threw the bottle against a tree, watching it smash to the ground. "Oh shit, that was loud." He chuckled to himself before running to the back door of the basement. He snuck in through the door when he was met with his brother playing video games as usual. He made eye contact with Adam as he leaned against the door and immediately started laughing. "Shhhhhhhh!" As he tried walking normally past Adam, he put a hand on his head, messing up his hair. He leaned forward behind the couch and to the side of Adam's face. "You're a good brother. I love you, baby bro." He hugged his brother from behind, ruffling his hair in the process. He was too drunk to notice the tension that seemed to form between them whenever he consumed alcohol but that was the goal all along. All he wanted was to feel good again and drinking was the only way he knew how.