Category: Junior Literary

If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book. In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle.

this is the first paragraph of the book “the bad beginning” by daniel handler, otherwise known as lemony snicket – but we’ll save that for the next article topic. this book is the first in a 14-book children’s series known as “a series of unfortunate events,” which outlines the lives of the three baudelaire orphans and an unruly man’s chase after their parents’ life savings. 

readers have a tendency to hold out hope for their characters, clinging to any little bit of redemption they can claw out of the pages. i’m guilty of it, and you probably are too. we scratch and scrape at every detail, looking for something or someone or some way to help, and when we can’t, we give up. we wish our characters the best of luck, and stand in the sidelines from then on, watching them make bad decisions over and over again, with no investment to the characters’ well-being. daniel handler does not give us this option, and it’s one of my favorite literary tactics i’ve ever seen.

in other books and series, there’s a dwindling hope from the beginning – the expectation that something will work out until it doesn’t. once that trust is broken, it’s never rebuilt. 

I am sorry to tell you that this story begins with the Baudelaire orphans traveling along this most displeasing road, and that from this moment on, the story only gets worse. Of all the people in the world who have miserable lives – and, as I’m sure you know, there are quite a few – the Baudelaire youngsters take the cake, a phrase which here means that more horrible things have happened to them than just about anybody. 

this is the first paragraph of “the reptile room,” the second book in the series. similar in tone to the first paragraph of “the bad beginning,” handler uses the constant push and pull of luring the reader into holding out hope, then crushing their spirits yet again.

this consistency holds out through the entirety of the series, and i definitely think this is the best literary device i’ve seen used to keep readers hooked.

Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” plays faintly in the background, as a warm mug of hot cocoa with precisely six mini marshmallows, warms your hands before you raise the mug to take a small sip.  It leaves a tiny mustache above your upper lip before you lick it clean. Decorations ranging from frosty whites to emerald greens can be seen displayed in a neat sort of disarray in every direction. The cold of the outside fights at the window seals for an unwanted entrance as a muted holiday special plays from the television. This is how I know it’s Christmas.

Excitement for the 25th day in December starts on December 26th. Right after the mess of abandoned gift wrappings and torn boxes are cleaned, my heart does a little sigh that the day is almost over. Yes, I know Christmas starts as soon as your feet hit a chilled floor, but it’s over just as quickly. Once your anticipation over what you have received has passed, and the joy of watching someone open a gift you bought dies down, Christmas is good as over.

Some people celebrate Christmas for more holy aspects, and that is completely respected. But, you see me, I celebrate Christmas for the pretty lights and the joy of giving. I’d like to consider myself a rather generous person. (Sometimes) So, being the sweet angel I am, I look at potential gifts year-round. As soon as I think I know what a person not only wants but needs, I make a list of it. Can I ever find those lists when I need them? Of course not! But, it’s the thought that counts. 

If you are anything like me, you may find yourself listening to Christmas music in July. Once the Christmas spirit enters me, it rarely leaves. That Christmas spirit hasn’t found me yet. I’ve already bought gifts, listened to “All I Want For Christmas” at least twenty times trying to awaken the spirit, and it still hasn’t found me. I even went to view Christmas lights with my friends over break.

Maybe the weather isn’t cold enough yet. Maybe my mind sensed that this year has been anything but normal. I hope that the skinny legend, Mariah Carey blesses me with some holiday spirit on the 25th play. My voice may go out if I continue to try to hit those high notes. Maybe I should pass out candy canes to spark the joy for Christmas. Or binge of some of my holiday favorites.

Let me know I’m not alone in this holiday funk I’m feeling. Tell me how you get into the holiday spirit. 

With a soon to be hoarse voice,

Candy Cane Snatcher

     This November, my classmates and I took on the task of writing an entire novella in just one month. National Novel Writing Month, better known as NaNoWriMo, challenges writers to complete a novel in thirty days. It wrapped up Monday, and despite only reaching 83% of my goal, I’m still proud of myself for taking up the challenge. Today, I wanted to share some excerpts from my novella and give you a little insight into my experience writing them. This won’t be so much about the time constraint I was under while writing this, but more so about the writing itself and why I made certain choices within the work.

     About a quarter mile further stood a modest, rustic house, waiting to welcome them home. The pale, light blue paint on the exterior wooden walls had been chipped away over time, and the same could be said for the dull, white coat that covered the small front porch. Two handmade wooden rocking chairs looked down at them; the cushions occupying them were frayed and the once vibrant colors of the cloth were muted by the heat of the blistering sun. The outline of a large, burgundy barn could be seen peeking out from behind the residence.

     As she often did, the young woman observed the surrounding scenery, taking in the beauty of the lush, green grass and the boldness of the scattered patches of colorful wildflowers. Some were short with a deep, golden color covering the tiny petals, and others were meek, sporting wispy white floral leaves, and several tall, lavender flowers were sparsely scattered across the land.

     I rewrote this description at least half a dozen times. Certain drafts, I felt, were too short, and others were too long. I kept teetering between not providing the reader with enough imagery so they could properly envision the scene, and paying too much attention to detail to the point that the chapter was getting a bit stale. There’s no perfect answer to finding a balance between these two literary evils, but I always recommend that writers take a moment to close their eyes and imagine what the narrator is seeing. If you stay there long enough, you’ll be able to successfully depict the setting, but if you linger too long, you might lose yourself in insignificant details. With this illustration, I chose to write it in a way that would make the reader think of the farm as fondly as the main character does; she sees it as a safe haven, and I wanted to establish that sense of security in the reader as well.

     Like she did nearly two years before, Rose spent a few hours gathering the strength to tell Oliver that if he did not leave the company, she would leave him, except this time, she was painfully sober. He chuckled at first, sending a dismissive wave her way and immediately returning to his work. When none of her sweet laughter filled his ears like he expected it to, he turned to face her, and his stomach dropped at the sight of her placid face and teary eyes. He told her all of the things he usually did when she brought up something he did not want to talk about. First, he asked if the conversation could wait until he was finished whatever he was doing; next, he tried to convince her to push off talking about it until morning; and finally, he would try to embrace her, mentioning something distracting like the errands they needed to do tomorrow. Somehow, he always roped her in, but not this time; she could no longer shove this issue into the deepest corner of her mind and pretend it did not exist. They argued for hours, but Roselyn did not remember what they were saying to each other, only the suffocating lump that formed in her throat and the agonizing ache that enveloped her heart when Oliver began to cry.

     This is an excerpt from a very long reflection that takes up the majority of the first chapter. For context, the protagonist, Rose, used to be in a relationship with another character, Oliver, but she left him after giving him an ultimatum to leave his job, which brought a lot of turmoil and danger into their lives. The novel takes place a few days before her wedding to another man, Thomas, whose home was described in the first excerpt. In this section of writing, I wanted to not only inform the reader of their history but also give them some clues as to what their relationship was like before the split. There is a recurring pattern of manipulative behavior shown by Oliver that Rose previously chose to ignore, and the fact that she is no longer allowing the issue to be dismissed tells the reader a lot about the severity of the situation and how important it is to Rose that he quits his job. As both a reader and a writer, I find that it is more effective to walk the reader through events and allow them to build their own understanding of the dynamic between two characters rather than simply saying, “Character 1 is this type of person, Character 2 is this type of person, and this caused a problem because…”

     This morning, she woke to warm, orange rays of sunlight delicately dancing across her skin; her eyes fluttered open and she tried to absorb the brightness in the room but ultimately succumbed to the comforting shield of her hefty, dull white comforter. She found solace in its weight. It reminded her of the way her mother embraced her as a child when she got in trouble: excessively tight and accepting, despite knowing about her flawed behavior. The comforter understood the lies she told and the confliction she felt, and it spent countless mornings absorbing the guilt-ridden tears that were brazen enough to slip out. It held her in a way she could never allow Thomas…

     I highlighted this moment from Chapter 2 so the reader could get a feel for just how lonely the protagonist really is. She feels ashamed for still having feelings for her former partner, so she is not completely open with her current one, but she also feels guilty for not being the partner she feels Thomas deserves. She is left in a truly isolating position, and in many ways, only has herself to turn to for comfort, which manifests in her connection to an inanimate object, like her comforter. The average person might not compare the weight of their blanket to a mother’s hug, so the analogy gives the reader a bit of insight into her mental state and how much pain she had endured from being in this situation. The way people interact with physical things can be very telling to who they are and what they’re going through emotionally; it is a tool that many writers, including myself at times, forget to utilize. 

     This is all I’ve got for now, but I hope you enjoyed reading a bit about the thought that went into these bits of writing! Catch you next time :’)

This is the next chapter following Chapter 2: a Raven.  BTW, these chapters are NOT in chronological order. They are just in the order that I come up with them. 

Hope yall enjoy!!!

Chapter 3 - Familiar 

I watched from the rafters of our newly built cottage as my Mistress worked on one of her new recipes. The potion was for Ms. Harrget's knees so that they wouldn’t hurt as badly. That was what I had been told when I asked why I had to go collect herbs from the muddy side of the creek. Mistress knows I hate getting dirty. But I get muddy when the Mistress needs me to. Only when she needs me to.

Mistress's Hatchling played close to her feet, pulling on her dress every now and then for no reason. I still wasn't sure if I liked him. He would throw his tiny wooden soldiers at me sometimes. Or pluck out my feathers. And throw his food at me. But Mistress had shown concern for her hatchling because he made no noise. Whenever something was wrong, he would just throw stuff or bang on things, but no sound would pass from his lips.

That didn’t stop Hatchling from wanting to do everything with Mistress. And if Mistress had something to do in the village, she would call me over, place me in front of Hatchling, and run out the room. Then Hatchling would grab me as if I was one of his stuffed toys. He wouldn’t let go until she returned. It was odd.

But today Mistress’s Mister came home! And I get to ride on his shoulder and sleep in his lap when he gets home. Sometimes, he even takes me hunting. He taught me to fly through the woods, and when I see a small rabbit or squirrel or something, I either dive and bring it to him or I fly back to Mister and show him where it lives. It is very fun! Then we go home and then we all get to eat yummy stuff!



I turned into a boy today! Mistress said I did well - it only took me 2 days of trying! And she gave me a name - Ki. She said it means strong. But I am a weak crow, I don't have strength like Mister. So I'm a little confused with my name, but Mistress gave it to me, so it’s a good name. 



It's Hatchling's birthday today. He is turning 3.  Mistress said I was to stay as a boy while Mister’s sister, (i was told to call her Aunt?) stays with us for a month. Clothes are difficult. But if Hatchling can wear them, so will I! 

 Aunt said she came all the way from the capital - she even brought gifts for all of us! I got a toy soldier. I don’t know where “the capital” is but Aunt says it is a very fine place with shops and crowds and markets and royalty. But Aunt had to explain what those things were, and then she got onto Mister for not teaching his children right.



Mistress says we have to move today. Mister and I loaded the cart with food and things. They said we’re moving to the cliffs, and I got permission to fly ahead and be on the lookout! If I see anyone on the road, I fly back and tell Mister so he has time to hide the wagon. I’m not sure why they want to avoid other people, but it’s fun getting to fly so much! 


Our new house has a secret hole in the back wall - and Mister and I got to explore them today! We wandered around for a long time and I didn't realize how many trips it would take to map them all out. The tunnels and caves were actually a huge network leading all over the place. Eventually, once I was old enough, Mister would take me with him to the different towns we could access for supplies and stuff. That was when I got my first taste of humans shopping in crowds. It was chaotic. And smelly. And I got lost multiple times. But mister was always able to find me. Then we’d travel back through the tunnels-making sure no one followed us of course. 

But this time it was different. I was in crow form, sitting on Mister’s shoulder when some guards of the town started attacking Mister for no reason! I managed to claw one guy's face off and take out his eye, but one of the other guards got hold of me. Mister was beating most of them, as he was a very strong fist fighter and swordsman, but once he realized I was trapped he barreled into my capturer, knocking 2 guards and himself to the ground. After that, it was a flurry of arms and hands as the guards grabbed Mister’s hands and held them behind his back. I managed to fly out of their reach and I circled above their heads, knowing there was much else I could do. 

I watched as they dragged Mister down to the jails of the building with banners I had been told to avoid - a black flag with a witch-burning sewn on in red. And I knew I had to tell Misstress what had happened.  

The Order of the Ravens had captured Mister. And no one stays sane after being caught by the Ravens.  

        I had a fairly progressive childhood when it came to the movies I watched with my family, or really, my dad. I grew up watching American Pie, Van Wilder, Armaggeddon, The Green Mile, Hellraiser, Scarface, and so on. Most parents would never let their four-year-old watch movies like that, but my family was different. My dad worked for ten or more hours a day and came home to cook and clean, so every night, after dinner, my dad, my big sister, and I would sit in the living room, sprawled over the couch and the floor, and watched a real movie. We didn’t even own hardly any kids movies. We only owned one Disney movie, The Jungle Book.

      And to this day, I still enjoy watching those same movies, even though my family doesn’t anymore. I organize my movies like my music library on spotify, in playlists. We all know that the types of movies that you watch so much you memorize them say something about you. Most of the people to see my “playlists” of movies tell me that they don’t particularly like my movies because at least half of them depict very sexual, party-loving, carefree young adults (mostly college students).

         Now, I know that this is a very basic category, and almost every male that enjoyed the 90’s era would know like the back of their hand. But, even though they are very basic, I enjoy and identify with the “slacker” movies. I mean, first of all, I’m a very masculine person, my favorite shows are Ridiculousness, The Fresh Prince, Friends, and the list goes on. I was raised by my dad, who, unfortunately at the time was the biggest slacker I have ever met (including myself) even though he had a grueling career in construction. He had the same taste in films as I do in regards to that film “playlist”.

     Growing up, you probably heard the story of the first Thanksgiving celebration. The story has slight variations depending on who tells it and where it is told, but these excerpts from a version on http://www.apples4theteacher.com/, a website that provides resources commonly used by elementary school teachers, are representative of the general idea of the story most Americans were told in their youth. I’ll show you a statement made in this short story called “The First Thanksgiving” by Nora Smith, and then, I’ll give a brief description of the actual events that took place. TRIGGER WARNING: A certain part of this blog will discuss the intense subjects of murder and assault; please read with caution and keep this warning in mind as you navigate this post.

Some of the Pilgrim fathers, with brave Captain Myles Standish at their head, went on shore to see if they could find any houses or white people. 

     Calling Myles Standish brave is an interesting choice; I suppose one might consider the military advisor brave, if their definition of bravery is only characterized by one showing sheer undantedness in the wake of brutal attacks on whom that person perceives to be an enemy.  After an indigenous person named Corbitant challenged a treaty established between the pilgrims and a group of other natives, Standish planned an attack on the shelter in which Corbitant was believed to be sleeping. As frightened Pokanokets attempted to escape the terrifying scene, Standish’s men outside fired their muskets.Some friendly Indians had visited the Pilgrims during the winter, and Captain Myles Standish, with several of his men, had returned the visit. In another instance, he and three other men of Plymouth stabbed Pecksout, a Massachusett warrior and leader of a group he found to be threatening, and put three other Massachusett warriors to death for their association.  Standish returned to Plymouth with a man’s head.  A bold man, sure, but brave? I don’t think so.

One of the kind Indians was called Squanto, and he came to stay with the Pilgrims, and showed them how to plant their corn, and their peas and wheat and barley.

     Squanto, who is often referred to as “the friendly Indian,” was also called Tisquantum, but historians concluded that neither is probably his real name. He belonged to the Patuxet tribe, which was a branch of the Wampanoag Confederacy. At some point during his youth, Squanto was sold into slavery in Europe by English explorers who captured him and many other Native Americans. When the Pilgrims arrived, he himself was a prisoner of the Wampanoag, and he served as a translator. He proved himself to be an expert on resources and taught the group of Europeans how to cultivate crops that would help them survive the next winter. However, many say he did not simply assist them out of good-heartedness. He was described as someone who “sought his own ends and played his own game.” He is said to have exploited the influence his fluency in English provided him, often demanding favors and making threats.

Kind as the Indians were, you would have been very much frightened if you had seen them; and the baby Oceanus, who was a year old then, began to cry at first whenever they came near him. They were dressed in deerskins, and some of them had the furry coat of a wild cat hanging on their arms. Their long black hair fell loose on their shoulders, and was trimmed with feathers or fox-tails. They had their faces painted in all kinds of strange ways, some with black stripes as broad as your finger all up and down them. But whatever they wore, it was their very best, and they had put it on for the Thanksgiving party.

     This entire excerpt has a condescending tone that accompanies many white Americans in their retelling of the Thanksgiving story. Phrases like “Kind as the Indians were, you would have been very much afraid if you had seen them…” and “But whatever they wore, it was their very best…”  are gross and belittling, to say the least. The person who wrote this clearly tried to diminish the problematic nature of these statements by describing the Natives positively before or after they were made. The entire point of this version of the story is to perpetuate the idea that the natives were friendly and eager to help the pilgrims, but somehow, like so many before her, the writer uses harmful, incorrect stereotypes about Indigenous people to tell the story. Notice how unnecessary it is to include those details and consider how little they add to the context of the Thanksgiving story. It plants a seed in young children’s brains and grows a predisposition towards Native Americans; they are taught to see this group of people as “frightening.”

     All throughout the text, the word “Indian” is used to identify Native Americans. They have been inaccurately described as Indians since the Pilgrims arrived in America. Christopher Columbus was under the impression that he sailed across the Indian Ocean and therefore referred to the residents of the land as “Indians.” It is profoundly ignorant to use this term to describe Indigenous Americans, and it is extremely harmful to teach children to use it as a way to describe someone with that identity.

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myles_Standish

https://www.pri.org/stories/2014-11-17/native-americans-get-chance-tell-their-side-pilgrim-story

https://allthatsinteresting.com/squanto

https://www.ferris.edu/HTMLS/news/jimcrow/native/homepage.htm

I Wonder By Madison White

As my mind drifts forth and back and forth and back and forth and back  - 
In a cycle 
that never seems
to end.

And as my soul seeks out the hope, the end, the hope, the end, the hope, the end - 
on a graph 
that can not 
begin.

As my feet take me far and near and far and near and far and near and far - 
Down a trail 
of endless walking,
without halt.

And as my hands silently reach and grasp and reach and grasp and reach and grasp - 
Yet it all 
Slides through, lost
my grip. 

As I begin to feel the hurt, the pain, the sorrow, the grief - 
That has avoided 
And eluded me 
For years. 

And I begin to feel the things oh the things and the things, oh the things and the things - 
the world offers
Yet no thing 
Satisfies 


So still 
I wonder 

Life likes to move in circles. Well, I guess it could move in triangles. Or Squares. But that means it could move in Rectangles too, right? Along with hexagons or pentagons. Or maybe it moves like dice, showing a different face for different scenarios. 

Nevermind. Let me start over. 

 

Life Moves. 

 

How about that. It’s that simple. Life moves.

It moves in any and every way possible. It moves backwards, forwards, frontwards, toward-wards, high-wards, round-wards, and loop-de-loop-wards. It will shove you through some doors and yank you out of others. It will hurl you into windows or fling you up chimneys or make you crawl up blistering stairs. But it doesn’t let you stop. 

Granted, it may slow to the pace of a snail, dragging you, day in and day out. But other times it may keep you shooting about like a rocket ship on a racecourse, making sharp, jarring turns and baffling you with the fact that your ride has yet to fall and flip over – even though you thought for many a time that it was going to anyway. 

But I’ll say it again –  Life Moves. 

 

And that poem, titled I Wonder, is about what happens when someone who had inwardly become numb was finally gifted their feeling back into their cold body. Correction, they finally wanted to be able to feel again.  

But they found they were unsatisfied. They found that what they had tried so hard to escape from, still existed. And the poem ends on that note. 

 

So let me ask a question:   Did you relate to that poem?  Did it remind you of someone?   And are you going to fall into despair again after seeing that you might not always find what you are looking for?  

Or are you going to continue to allow yourself to hold tight to what you have regained, to let life guide you, and continue to feel – even if it hurts. 

CW: Mention of eating disorders.

All images and lyrics belong to GHOST.

GHOST, also known as Ghost and Pals, is one of my favorite musicians of all time. Their unique art style showcased their videos, wonderfully written lyrics, and interesting themes in their music are all things I really admire and always have me pumped for a new release. Ghost, which I will stop capitalizing from now on for the sake of being a bit easier on the eyes, is one of the most popular English Vocaloid producers. More popular releases of theirs include Honey I’m Home, Housewife Radio, and Candle Queen.

If you’re reading this and you’re not sure what Vocaloid is, that’s completely understandable! Vocaloid is a Japanese singing voice synthesizer software that enables users to synthesize “singing” by typing in lyrics and a melody for various voices or characters. It stems from a real voice actor’s or singer’s voice, much like Siri! These characters are designed and treated like virtual idols of sorts, and you’ve probably heard of a few. Hatsune Miku, Gumi, Megurine Luka, and Kaito are the most popular Vocaloid voices to use, and their characters are super recognizable on and even off the internet. It grew in popularity across the world in the mid-2000s and continued to skyrocket. The most well known English Vocaloid producers include Creep-P, VocaCircus, Crusher-P, Steampianist, and, of course, Ghost. The main appeal of Vocaloid is the unique sounding vocals that give off a robotic and interesting sound and the control it provides in music production.

Now, let’s dive into the meat and potatoes of this post. Appetite of a People-Pleaser was released on January 23, 2018, and, as of writing this, has accumulated almost 4.5 million views. Ghost uses v4 Flower, a lesser-known but still popular Vocaloid in the community. It tells the tale of a girl who’s so obsessed with becoming the ideal and pleasing others that she starts to lose touch with her own identity after the following mental anguish she faces realizing the negative consequences of this. The song has a few different interpretations, and since it’s one of my favorite songs of all time, I thought why not write a blog going into it?

The video starts out with a content warning for themes of disordered eating. The video does include depictions of bulimia nervosa and binge-eating disorder, but I believe these are metaphors for the character’s addiction to the validation of others. I’ll go into further detail later on. So, like the video says, if you think these subjects could upset you, I’d recommend you carry on with caution.

In the first shot of the video, we see the hand of a young girl, who I will call Flower for the rest of this post, holding a fork and going in to taste a cake on a plate in front of her. She takes a tiny bite before exiting from the frame. The cake here represents the validation of other people, and this was her first real taste of it.

Soon after, the song starts and the lyrics appear onscreen.

“Ideas forming out of thin air
These indulgences none can compare
So many flavors that one would abhor
Even though I’ve had enough…
I still demand:
Give me more!”

Here we see Flower beginning to build a dependence on the validation she tasted with the cake. “Ideas forming out of thin air; these indulgences none can compare” could either mean she’s thinking of ways to better please her friends and peers to an excessive degree, or that she’s having negative thoughts of herself and needs the validation of others to have them go away. “So many flavors that one would abhor” could refer to the many personalities she’s created to please others, but could also refer to personality traits that she thinks poorly of. “Even though I’ve had enough, I still demand: give me more!” is a cry from Flower for more validation from others to the point where she even sees it as a possible problem.

“I need a whole personality
Something inordinately sweet
Order anything you’d like
Nothing’s changing my mind
I don’t care how unhealthy it is
Because there isn’t anything I’d rather be.”

“I need a whole personality; something inordinately sweet” relates to her need to change her entire personality to suit other people, and for this time, she needs something “inordinately sweet.” “Order anything you’d like; nothing’s changing my mind” shows us that she’ll continue to cater to people regardless of the concerns of others or for the sake of her mental health. “I don’t care how unhealthy it is because there isn’t anything I’d rather be” shows that she’s aware of the negative consequences that could come from this, but she loves the results of her people-pleasing so much that she continues. The graphic depicts her with a tranced and obsessed look on her face as if she’s being driven crazy by the validation and love she’s getting from others.

“Call me obsequious, I guess I’m a bit dramatic
Sometimes my appetite is eerily erratic
Give me your dire expectations, and I’ll consume perfection
You are what you eat, after all.”

“Call me obsequious, I guess I’m a bit dramatic” shows us that others, or possibly herself, call her obsequious (to be obedient or servile) and can notice what she’s doing, but she brushes this off by saying she’s just “a bit dramatic.” “Give me your dire expectations, and I’ll consume perfection;
you are what you eat, after all” ties into the metaphor of her people-pleasing being an eating disorder. She consumes all the expectations of others and becomes them. She considers this perfection.

It’s at this time that the video theme and tone of the music shifts. The vocals become distorted and the piano grows louder and more ominous. The bubbly and colorful background is now replaced by a somber black one with classical designs. 

“Everything
Combines into one
So many flavors that one would abhor
I know I’ve had enough, I’ve gone too far.”

This marks when the negative effects of Flower’s behavior start to break through. “Everything combines into one; so many flavors that one would abhor” shows that her personalities are beginning to meld together into an amalgamation that she thinks is unappealing and undesirable. “I know I’ve had enough, I’ve gone too far” shows that she recognizes that she really does have a problem, but she’s gone too far down the spiral.

This tone change quickly goes away much like it appeared, and soon we’re taken back into the candy and cake wonderland of the video. The lyrics, however, keep this concerning and somber tone. 

“Now that I’ve become a full-course identity
Take a bite of me
I hope that I’ve become a favorable delicacy
That I’m worth something
I’ll eat ‘em all, the thoughts of anyone I’ll ever meet
Just to make them happy
Wondering why I’m a burden, or so it seems
Aren’t I everything?”

“Now that I’ve become a full-course identity; take a bite of me” demonstrates that she’s done crafting a personality for someone and she wants them to enjoy her and give her validation and love. “I hope that I’ve become a favorable delicacy; that I’m worth something” reflects on how she only gets self-worth from others and how she can only hope she was successful in becoming their perfect person. “I’ll eat ‘em all, the thoughts of anyone I’ll ever meet just to make them happy” shows how she won’t stop absorbing the thoughts of others to “improve” herself because she wants to make people happy. Every comment, insult, or recommendation gets turned into an ingredient for her personality so she can appeal to them more and get them to like her. The next line, “wondering why I’m a burden, or so it seems; aren’t I everything?” is a glimpse into her inner worries about this. People are growing tired of her presence because of her people-pleasing tendencies and she’s confused as to why because she’s put in so much time and effort into crafting the perfect person for them.

“Maybe if I try a little harder, it will be okay
One day
Keep on eating more and more.”

Even though her people-pleasing is the reason people are starting to distance themselves from her, she doesn’t know what to do. Instead of trying to stop and try being herself, she begins to work even harder to please them so they won’t leave her. The graphic shows Flower devoring more and more of the cake (validation) to keep her satisfied, and she now needs more than ever.

“Divide my life away
Into servings
And go beyond the point of no return.”

Flower is now reaching the point where she is almost beyond help. She’s devoted her life to other people and has left no time for herself to heal. She’s losing more and more parts of herself every day.

“I know I’m subservient, but all of this is necessary
Sometimes my appetite is violently contrary
Irreconcilable perceptions appeal to my obsessions
The nausea is overwhelming!”

“I know I’m subservient, but all of this is necessary” shows once again that Flower knows what she’s doing isn’t completely appealing, but she thinks it’s the only possible way for people to like her and has become her main focus and goal in life. She’s become addicted to validation from others and needs it to function, so she will stop at no limit to get it. “Sometimes my appetite is violently contrary” suggests that Flower may be the exact opposite of the way she acts, but she continues anyway because she doesn’t know how else to be. “Irreconcilable perceptions appeal to my obsessions; the nausea is overwhelming!” shows us that the toll all of this is taking on Flower’s mental health. Everything is stacking on top and making her overwhelmed and nauseous, but she’s lost the ability or will to stop.

I should probably stop before this blog gets too long, so I’m going to be splitting this “analysis” into two parts. Most of this song is pretty self-explanatory, but I just wanted to talk about it and share GHOST’s work with more people! I’m excited to continue this. I may do one for Honey, I’m Home and Housewife Radio afterward since I’m actually really enjoying working on this! They’re a bit more complicated, so we’ll see how it goes. I guess I’ll have a lot of content for blogs if I go through with this idea! 🙂