So things have been better. I'm definitley getting better. It's been about a month and one or two weeks since I started taking the medicine, and I hardly notice coincedences anymore. It's just so hard to get a grip of yourself when your past is telling you something that's completely opposite. When your past is telling you that you're doomed to hell and that you're going to die because God has definitley forsaken you or something along those lines, it's hard to get a grip. It's nearly impossible to get a grip. I feel like I'm shooting myself in the neck, or slapping myself really hard. Really not fun.
I got all my hair cut off, it used to be past my shoulder blades, but now it's boy short. I really like it. Tomorrow will be fun, I get to show all my friends. I don't really know why I did it. I just wanted to. My hair was pretty when I put some effort into it, but most of the time it looked sloppy and tangled and just not good. So I cut it off. It looks much better now. I look a lot older now, if I didn't already look older. People all the time mistook me for being at least a senior in high school, but today when I went out to eat with my dad they asked me if we wanted any wine and then back at his apartments someone thought I was his girlfriend. *SSSSSIIIIIIIGGGGHHHHH*
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Got some Medicaments!!
I don't know how to say "got some" in french, just medicine. J'ai les medicaments. I think that's right. Sometimes I'm a little apprehensive about using French outside of the classroom environment. But yes, I did get medicine. The psychiatrist I went to see prescribed Pexeva, which is relatively new, apparently. I can tell you that it does feel like it's starting to work pretty well, and I started taking it on Saturday or Sunday.
Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning were both good, except Wednesday night I had an breakdown in the middle of church when they started talking about demon possession. Yea...that wasn't fun. It was a little embarrasing because I was pretty inconsolable for a while, there. But Thursday was good, especially because we had a school-wide retreat day.
You see, since I go to an arts school we're pretty much expected to do things that other schools don't do aside from being overpopulated by homosexuals and girls. This is why we have retreat day. You get seperated from your friends and get put into a group with people you may know if you are in any way social. I am not social and neither are my friends. NO ONE KNOWS US. :D We like to keep it this way because our favorite activity is gossipping about people we hate. So this was already not a good idea. When I'm around people I don't know and am having an OCD attack I get pretty touchy: I don't want to make a team cheer or a team name or God forbid a team poster. I think "Dark Rain" is pretty much the lamest and stupidest name anyone could have ever come up with, we could've had something ridiculous, random and meaningless like "Rabid Elvis" like all the other teams. No, I don't want to do a race which involves me doing jumpingjacks in front of the hottest teacher in the school. That's embarrasing, and I've already embarrased myself enough in front of him.
However, I did recover from this fog of hate and participated in several fun activities. That was nice for a while. But then after letting us talk to people we actually like at lunch they hauled us back into classrooms with our groups and gave us rolls of oddly colored duct tape to keep us quiet for a while. It was around this time I began to feel like something was not right. And then I knew that something was very not right. So I asked to go to the office. It was on this trek to the office that I noticed the something was VERY WRONG. And then I knew. Suddenly my stomach felt like someone was impaling with knives and my legs felt like they were being beaten with hammers. I NEEDED SOME MIDOL, if you get my drift. Luckily, I love the people in the office. If you asked me, the office is just about the best place in the world. After downing ibuprofen I decided that I would try to tough it out after sitting in the office for about five minutes. Well, after five minutes I decided that there was no way in hell I could tough this out and I didn't know why this cycle would be different than every other one. So I got to sit in the comfy chair with those rice things that you heat up for two hours playing with crossword puzzles and wordsearches.
Now let me explain something, my school is quite oddly shaped. It is a combination of four buildings: all but one are borrowed. The first building is ours, we just bought it and we still aren't finished moving everything in yet. This is the reason for the next three buildings. The second building is The Church Side. It is a church. The next is the Annex side, and we share this with two other schools. But we know we're the best and the two other schools know that, too. We have musical instruments, bitches! The third building is the ugliest and most terrifying, this buiding PCA. It takes tenth graders at least 8 minutes to walk from PCA to Main. And that's without backpacks.
So where I was going with this is that one of our buildings is a church and after school there was a funeral at the church so they had to clear us out fast. That meant that I had no time to change plans and ask our mom to pick us up instead of us walking to her work. So we walked. What's the good thing is that it isn't too far, I could say that I can see it from the school, but that's really only because it's so tall. But it's close enough. So we walked and stayed there for about an hour before we left for an appointment with the therapist. I always like going to the therapist, it's like going to the office, it feels very safe and warm and nice. I like going to the office, I like going to the library, I like going to mom's work, and I like going to the therapist's. After the therapist though, my mom had to go back to work but my sister and I could get some things to do so we wouldn't bother her while she was working. (We definitley didn't want to be home because our grandmother is crazy).
I decided I would take a book, my journal (in which I write everything in the world), and Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets. But the DVD didn't work on the computer. And what should've taken my mom about an hour ended up taking about four hours. We left her work at 11:30. I did get to spend the last hour sleeping though since I take the anti-depressents at 9 or 10 at night and they make me really tired, so I slept under her desk. And that was my day.
Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning were both good, except Wednesday night I had an breakdown in the middle of church when they started talking about demon possession. Yea...that wasn't fun. It was a little embarrasing because I was pretty inconsolable for a while, there. But Thursday was good, especially because we had a school-wide retreat day.
You see, since I go to an arts school we're pretty much expected to do things that other schools don't do aside from being overpopulated by homosexuals and girls. This is why we have retreat day. You get seperated from your friends and get put into a group with people you may know if you are in any way social. I am not social and neither are my friends. NO ONE KNOWS US. :D We like to keep it this way because our favorite activity is gossipping about people we hate. So this was already not a good idea. When I'm around people I don't know and am having an OCD attack I get pretty touchy: I don't want to make a team cheer or a team name or God forbid a team poster. I think "Dark Rain" is pretty much the lamest and stupidest name anyone could have ever come up with, we could've had something ridiculous, random and meaningless like "Rabid Elvis" like all the other teams. No, I don't want to do a race which involves me doing jumpingjacks in front of the hottest teacher in the school. That's embarrasing, and I've already embarrased myself enough in front of him.
However, I did recover from this fog of hate and participated in several fun activities. That was nice for a while. But then after letting us talk to people we actually like at lunch they hauled us back into classrooms with our groups and gave us rolls of oddly colored duct tape to keep us quiet for a while. It was around this time I began to feel like something was not right. And then I knew that something was very not right. So I asked to go to the office. It was on this trek to the office that I noticed the something was VERY WRONG. And then I knew. Suddenly my stomach felt like someone was impaling with knives and my legs felt like they were being beaten with hammers. I NEEDED SOME MIDOL, if you get my drift. Luckily, I love the people in the office. If you asked me, the office is just about the best place in the world. After downing ibuprofen I decided that I would try to tough it out after sitting in the office for about five minutes. Well, after five minutes I decided that there was no way in hell I could tough this out and I didn't know why this cycle would be different than every other one. So I got to sit in the comfy chair with those rice things that you heat up for two hours playing with crossword puzzles and wordsearches.
Now let me explain something, my school is quite oddly shaped. It is a combination of four buildings: all but one are borrowed. The first building is ours, we just bought it and we still aren't finished moving everything in yet. This is the reason for the next three buildings. The second building is The Church Side. It is a church. The next is the Annex side, and we share this with two other schools. But we know we're the best and the two other schools know that, too. We have musical instruments, bitches! The third building is the ugliest and most terrifying, this buiding PCA. It takes tenth graders at least 8 minutes to walk from PCA to Main. And that's without backpacks.
So where I was going with this is that one of our buildings is a church and after school there was a funeral at the church so they had to clear us out fast. That meant that I had no time to change plans and ask our mom to pick us up instead of us walking to her work. So we walked. What's the good thing is that it isn't too far, I could say that I can see it from the school, but that's really only because it's so tall. But it's close enough. So we walked and stayed there for about an hour before we left for an appointment with the therapist. I always like going to the therapist, it's like going to the office, it feels very safe and warm and nice. I like going to the office, I like going to the library, I like going to mom's work, and I like going to the therapist's. After the therapist though, my mom had to go back to work but my sister and I could get some things to do so we wouldn't bother her while she was working. (We definitley didn't want to be home because our grandmother is crazy).
I decided I would take a book, my journal (in which I write everything in the world), and Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets. But the DVD didn't work on the computer. And what should've taken my mom about an hour ended up taking about four hours. We left her work at 11:30. I did get to spend the last hour sleeping though since I take the anti-depressents at 9 or 10 at night and they make me really tired, so I slept under her desk. And that was my day.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
I'm not a hero :)
Hey, I didn't ask for OCD. I really didn't. But it's here. There wasn't anything I could do to prevent it from coming, was there? I can stop it from coming back, though. And that's good. I just have to remember that I'm the one in control, and I have to remember how to stay in control. I mean, get a grip, amirite?
Well, I still NEED TO GET SOME MEDICATTIONNNS. I'm okay, really. I mean, I'm handling it. The thing that's hard is having to keep going like I'm fine, I kind of want to be able to tell someone: "hold on, I'm having a moment", take a pause and catch my breath and then finish whatever I was doing. Because I'm not fine, I'm really not okay. Things aren't going so great, I'm scared, I'm worried, I'm obsessive compulsive and all I want is to go back to normal. Wherever that was. I want to go home. Wherever that is.
A home has not been a home for a year, I've been terrified of home. I'm rewriting my life, I'm starting over. I have to be okay with that even if I myself am not okay. I just want things to go back to normal. Seriously, I'm no hero. I may be an adventurer on World of Warcraft, but that's as far as my exploits go. I don't want to fight, but I will. I will fight, I'll fight hard. I have something to fight for. I love this world, I love it so much. I love my sanity, I love my mom and my sister even though she's easy to hate. I love music, I love Joy Division, and Bauhaus, and I love Nightwish, too. I love singing, and I love acting. I love looking at the stars at night, I love microwaving water to make tea. I love wearing jewelry even though I'm allergic to metal. I love the smell of the pages of my favorite books, I love the first and second Harry Potter movies but I hate the rest. I love candles, even though I don't like matches. I love life. And all I want is my life back. That's it. Even if I don't move to the house in the woods that I want so bad, at least I'm living like a sane person, at least the shadow hanging over me is gone. At least I don't have to feed the monster in fear.
Hey, I didn't ask for this, but hey, I can deal with it. I will fight.
And now, an inspirational ooshy-gooshy quote:
“…learning to fight for yourself, don't just defend yourself. Fight for yourself. And when you do it, fight like a girl. Girls fight when they have something to protect. Whether it's their bodies, their children, whatever. When they really fight, they fight to the death.
So if you really wanna fight hardcore, fight like a girl. That’s the message”
--Emilie Autumn
Well, I still NEED TO GET SOME MEDICATTIONNNS. I'm okay, really. I mean, I'm handling it. The thing that's hard is having to keep going like I'm fine, I kind of want to be able to tell someone: "hold on, I'm having a moment", take a pause and catch my breath and then finish whatever I was doing. Because I'm not fine, I'm really not okay. Things aren't going so great, I'm scared, I'm worried, I'm obsessive compulsive and all I want is to go back to normal. Wherever that was. I want to go home. Wherever that is.
A home has not been a home for a year, I've been terrified of home. I'm rewriting my life, I'm starting over. I have to be okay with that even if I myself am not okay. I just want things to go back to normal. Seriously, I'm no hero. I may be an adventurer on World of Warcraft, but that's as far as my exploits go. I don't want to fight, but I will. I will fight, I'll fight hard. I have something to fight for. I love this world, I love it so much. I love my sanity, I love my mom and my sister even though she's easy to hate. I love music, I love Joy Division, and Bauhaus, and I love Nightwish, too. I love singing, and I love acting. I love looking at the stars at night, I love microwaving water to make tea. I love wearing jewelry even though I'm allergic to metal. I love the smell of the pages of my favorite books, I love the first and second Harry Potter movies but I hate the rest. I love candles, even though I don't like matches. I love life. And all I want is my life back. That's it. Even if I don't move to the house in the woods that I want so bad, at least I'm living like a sane person, at least the shadow hanging over me is gone. At least I don't have to feed the monster in fear.
Hey, I didn't ask for this, but hey, I can deal with it. I will fight.
And now, an inspirational ooshy-gooshy quote:
“…learning to fight for yourself, don't just defend yourself. Fight for yourself. And when you do it, fight like a girl. Girls fight when they have something to protect. Whether it's their bodies, their children, whatever. When they really fight, they fight to the death.
So if you really wanna fight hardcore, fight like a girl. That’s the message”
--Emilie Autumn
Thursday, September 23, 2010
"What is Goth?"
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Jillian Venters, (a.k.a. The Lady of The Manners), the author of Gothic Charm School and site author of the website gothic-charm-school.com ( <3 ) has said that there is no real definitive answer, and that it's difficult to describe what goth is exactly. While I adore The Lady of the Manners and love everything she has to say, I'd have to disagree. Goth has a definitive answer, it's a long answer, but it's an answer.
In the first post I gave a brief description of what goth is, a subculture that formed from the music, and I named some bands that were classified as goth rock (Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Joy Division, The Cure, etc...). Let's break it down even further. Goth rock is in off-shoot of punk rock/post-punk that began in the late 1970's and early 1980's.
- (Punk rock: The Sex Pistols, The Ramones, The Clash, etc...)
- (Post-Punk: many goth rock bands are also classified as post-punk).
So, it began with music in England. Most goth rock bands you encounter will be from England. At this time in the 1980's, goth was at it's peak. There were many goth clubs, such as the very famous Batcave in London (founded by two members of the band Specimen - very influential). The Batcave featured many bands from Alien Sex Fiend to Siouxsie and the Banshees.
A Tangent: Why do we mention this Batcave? It's very important, often described as the birthplace of goth. Old-school goths have sometimes been called Batcavers. Not to be confused with the term ElderGoth to describe old goths.
SO...as goth rock began to separate itself from post-punk, the followers of the bands began to become recognizable. And there you go, goth was born. In the same style as the somber music, so the goths styled themselves. In black clothes, in black make-up. It was more than just a musical movement, it was a lifestyle.
The goth style began to branch out, it didn't change, it was just borrowing pieces from history. There are Victorian goths, Gypsy goths (like me ;D ), Flapper goths, and on and on. There are still more styles that aren't historical, such as the Fetish goths, who incorporate BDSM into their wardrobes.
Now here's what's important: There are no sub-sub-cultures in the goth subculture. There is no specific Victorian Goth subculture. There are only goths who dress differently...yet still gothy, amirite?
What's sad is that as time went on goth began to become a term that was loosely thrown around to describe anyone who looked sad/wore black. And then moreover, anyone that was violent to themselves or others and wore black. So that now, goth is thought to be no more than a teenage phase, something that is temporary and has no meaning behind it, no history. Dare I say that goth is not a superficial subculture! While it is about dressing up and looking pretty, the goths tend to have a certain mindset that is unafraid to delve into the dark secrets and is fascinated by the ethereal and spooky - acknowleding the darker aspects of life, not wallowing in our err..."pain".
Even if goth is just a teenage phase, for god's sakes, why does it matter if they're actual goths? Honest-to-goth Bauhaus fans? It shouldn't matter. But since goth has gotten such a bad reputation over the years and so few people have even the slightest idea what goth really is, it's difficult to accept young goths. The term "babybat" has been used to describe any goth that either: a) doesn't know what goth is and uses it as a way to shock their parents/friends/teachers or b) is simply a younger goth. The term can be quite degrading when used on a young goth that actually knows what they're talking about.
Now, I'm not very involved in the local goth scene, I'm a babybat! So I don't know what's it's like here, but I side with Jillian Venters on this one; goth is going to have it's day again. The style is too involved in the mainstream - even with all the misconceptions. It's always going to be around, we'll just hope that when it does get bigger it's for the 30-year history as a musical movement that doesn't involved popular metal bands.
THE ESSENTIALS:
So what have we learned...
Goth is a musical movement that began in the 80's that gave rise to the goth subculture. Goths aren't interested in harming themselves or others and they aren't depressed. They also wear black.
That's the very-VERY-short version. See everything I told you up there, too? Yea, that's the short version. :)
So now some misconceptions that I didn't mention.
Misconceptions:
- Goth is a cult - goth is not a cult.
- You have to be a certain religion to be a goth - no way.
- Goth is a religion - nope.
- Goths self-harm - lies.
- Goths are depressed - still a lie.
- Goths want to hurt other people - not at all.
- Goth is only a phase - heck. no. It would never have survived this long.
- Goths listen to metal - no, we listen to goth rock, often synonymous with post-punk
- Goths are looking for attention - no, actually we don't need people staring at us all the time, if anything it's actually a bit disconcerting
- Goths are whores - NO. Maybe this idea comes from the slutty gothy halloween costumes? But no, no, no Goths are not whores.
Make sense?
-- G. Andromeda
P.S. If you want to know more, you can always visit gothic-charm-school.com which features lessons on being a friendly goth, there are TONS of other internet resources as well, for god's sake you can wikipedia it. :D
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Dear World, I have OCD
I have OCD.
OCD is an anxiety disorder, and it's more than just being mildly annoyed by something being out of place. It's being afraid of it being out of place or that something bad will happen..or...something.
Now, that's not what happens to me. I have no issues with things being askew. I get thoughts. Thoughts that have no business being in my mind, evil ones, dark ones, thoughts that I don't want. And I have to get rid of them. I may say something in my head over and over again, or I may count. At one point, I remember actually saying the words under my breath. I know I must've sounded CRAZY! :D I remember it being over the summer, and telling my babysitter that I was just singing. It would take a long time to explain. I find it necessary to tell you that I had no idea that I had OCD at this time, I thought something was just wrong with me and I would just have to wait until it went away. That was when I was maybe nine years old. I don't remember my exact age. But I remember how terrifying it was. I remember breaking down on the stairs, at nine years old, praying to God, "why, why". I didn't understand where the thoughts were coming from, because I certainly didn't agree with them. But they wouldn't stop coming, no matter what I did.
I suppose that eventually I was rid of them. I don't remember what I did or how I did it, but they began to go away at some point and they haven't bothered me for many years. Twice in my childhood did it happen, and now once as a teenager they came back. This time around, however, I was determined to find out what was going on in my skull and in this lump of clay sitting inside it (brain).
They came out of nowhere. Of course, I was stressed out from school and from a rather disturbing incident, and so out of nowhere they were born and invaded my Somewhere. My past came back to me and I couldn't wake up. I was questioning everything going on in my brain. I wanted to know why I was counting in my head, and why these thoughts were coming.
That week - excuse me, last week - I stayed home from school for several days because I was so preoccupied with trying to dispel the thoughts with my rituals. I didn't care what answer I got, I just wanted an answer, any answer. So where did I go? The therapist. Because something was wrong with my brain.
Well, I got my answer. SURPRISE!!
DEAR WORLD
I HAVE OCD
OCD is an anxiety disorder, and it's more than just being mildly annoyed by something being out of place. It's being afraid of it being out of place or that something bad will happen..or...something.
Now, that's not what happens to me. I have no issues with things being askew. I get thoughts. Thoughts that have no business being in my mind, evil ones, dark ones, thoughts that I don't want. And I have to get rid of them. I may say something in my head over and over again, or I may count. At one point, I remember actually saying the words under my breath. I know I must've sounded CRAZY! :D I remember it being over the summer, and telling my babysitter that I was just singing. It would take a long time to explain. I find it necessary to tell you that I had no idea that I had OCD at this time, I thought something was just wrong with me and I would just have to wait until it went away. That was when I was maybe nine years old. I don't remember my exact age. But I remember how terrifying it was. I remember breaking down on the stairs, at nine years old, praying to God, "why, why". I didn't understand where the thoughts were coming from, because I certainly didn't agree with them. But they wouldn't stop coming, no matter what I did.
I suppose that eventually I was rid of them. I don't remember what I did or how I did it, but they began to go away at some point and they haven't bothered me for many years. Twice in my childhood did it happen, and now once as a teenager they came back. This time around, however, I was determined to find out what was going on in my skull and in this lump of clay sitting inside it (brain).
They came out of nowhere. Of course, I was stressed out from school and from a rather disturbing incident, and so out of nowhere they were born and invaded my Somewhere. My past came back to me and I couldn't wake up. I was questioning everything going on in my brain. I wanted to know why I was counting in my head, and why these thoughts were coming.
That week - excuse me, last week - I stayed home from school for several days because I was so preoccupied with trying to dispel the thoughts with my rituals. I didn't care what answer I got, I just wanted an answer, any answer. So where did I go? The therapist. Because something was wrong with my brain.
Well, I got my answer. SURPRISE!!
DEAR WORLD
I HAVE OCD
The First
Welcome one and all to Somewhere. In case you haven't noticed, you are, right now, in the Somewhere. That's where I am all the time, me, Gloom Andromeda. The blog of In The Somewhere will be updated weekly? monthly? with various posts, maybe it will change, but it depends on whether or not I can actually keep up with this thing.
So, I'll start with telling you a little about myself. Well, I'm a Goth. Now, don't roll your eyes at me. It may not mean what you think it does.
A Tangent: Goth: Goth came from the 1980's when Post-Punk sprang out of Punk and, gloom-shrouded and atmospheric, became what's known as Goth Rock or sometimes Post-Punk. These bands that formed a genre include: Joy Division, Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, etc. The music formed the people, the subculture. There are tons of goth rock bands, most old, some new. It also means that I dress like a Goth, black clothes, big boots, makeup, you know what I mean. To a lesser extent it also includes a certain "mindset", this mindset has mainly to do with acknowledging the spookier parts of life (and the sadder ones as well). That doesn't mean goths are sad, depressed, self-harm, do drugs, or anything like that. That's why I italicized "acknowledging". To quote The Lady of the Manners, it's about "finding beauty in dark and unexpected places". But don't forget that it's the music that makes the Goth, that's much much important.
Sorry about that.
For some reason I felt like it was necessary for me to tell you that. It's just that most people don't know and end up judging me before they know me, that's why I really don't tell people that I'm a goth.
So where were we? Oh yes, my favorite subject: ME! I like to read. Duh. I like the Green Rider series. They're my faaaaavorite.
Here are some little things:
I like Tim Burton and Edward Gorey(again, duh.)
I like Alan Menken
I like to write
I like to act
I like to sing
I like Greek Mythology
I like World of Warcraft
I don't like stupid people
I don't like catty people
Stupid/Catty people are my pet peeves, that and rotting food. I just can't deal with it. I strive to make sure I'm accurate, constantly. With so much information at my fingertips, how can I not be? The internet is a treasure trove of information and I looooove information.
For example, I know tons about Greek Mythology. Everything from the 12 Olympians to the Rivers of the Underworld. From Aurora to Psyche, from Thanatos to Hippolyta.
I think I've covered most everything!! Well, I've covered everything meaningless and superficial, really, what does any of this stuff matter in the end? I don't know, maybe I'll find out one day.
I'll see you in the Somewhere
--G. Andromeda
So, I'll start with telling you a little about myself. Well, I'm a Goth. Now, don't roll your eyes at me. It may not mean what you think it does.
A Tangent: Goth: Goth came from the 1980's when Post-Punk sprang out of Punk and, gloom-shrouded and atmospheric, became what's known as Goth Rock or sometimes Post-Punk. These bands that formed a genre include: Joy Division, Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, etc. The music formed the people, the subculture. There are tons of goth rock bands, most old, some new. It also means that I dress like a Goth, black clothes, big boots, makeup, you know what I mean. To a lesser extent it also includes a certain "mindset", this mindset has mainly to do with acknowledging the spookier parts of life (and the sadder ones as well). That doesn't mean goths are sad, depressed, self-harm, do drugs, or anything like that. That's why I italicized "acknowledging". To quote The Lady of the Manners, it's about "finding beauty in dark and unexpected places". But don't forget that it's the music that makes the Goth, that's much much important.
Sorry about that.
For some reason I felt like it was necessary for me to tell you that. It's just that most people don't know and end up judging me before they know me, that's why I really don't tell people that I'm a goth.
So where were we? Oh yes, my favorite subject: ME! I like to read. Duh. I like the Green Rider series. They're my faaaaavorite.
Here are some little things:
I like Tim Burton and Edward Gorey(again, duh.)
I like Alan Menken
I like to write
I like to act
I like to sing
I like Greek Mythology
I like World of Warcraft
I don't like stupid people
I don't like catty people
Stupid/Catty people are my pet peeves, that and rotting food. I just can't deal with it. I strive to make sure I'm accurate, constantly. With so much information at my fingertips, how can I not be? The internet is a treasure trove of information and I looooove information.
For example, I know tons about Greek Mythology. Everything from the 12 Olympians to the Rivers of the Underworld. From Aurora to Psyche, from Thanatos to Hippolyta.
I think I've covered most everything!! Well, I've covered everything meaningless and superficial, really, what does any of this stuff matter in the end? I don't know, maybe I'll find out one day.
I'll see you in the Somewhere
--G. Andromeda
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