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Gave up on the top5 of 2013 meme and instead just wanted to be done already.

Just a warmup, she said.

It'll be super quick, she said.

What is a face?

What is a name?

I kind of like his.

Minerva

What is depth?

What is value?

Dir en grey Tour '13 Ghoul, 11/08 Baltimore @ Soundstage

Since the instructions for the meet&greet specified that I should be there no later than 5:45PM, I left the motel at 4:40, thinking I'd be there for sure by 5:15. Turned out Google maps severely underestimated Baltimore traffic, and by the time I finally ran out of the parking deck two blocks away from the venue, it was already past 5:30. I didn't want to risk wasting time at the coat check, so I packed only the essentials (Driver's license, credit card, $40 cash, phone, keys, parking stub) that would fit into the zip pockets of my coat aside from the gift bag for Deg...and walked all the way to the venue before I realized I'd forgotten to take the most important document of all: my proof of purchase for the VIP meet&greet.

Cue moment of horrific panic.

It felt like the past few months of consistent running/working out was done just so I could be in shape to make this one dash of my life - I clocked back into the venue right at 5:43. The girl by the booth told me to wait back outside, so I slumped out in relief...only to realize with fresh horror that I'd developed a post-race fit. Extremely nostalgic of indoor track days, as I clutched my throat and leaned against a lamppost next to a street trashcan while coughing so hard it was a miracle I didn't throw up, with tears running down my face and high prayer that my eyeliner was holding up. Surprisingly, the line/crowd (less than 80 people) did not flinch or show signs of disgust/avoidance, and simply quietly let me be as I hacked away like I was dying by poison gas. The presence of so many smokers in close proximity did not help my case, after all.

At close to 6PM, a venue staff finally came out to call VIPs into line...and to my third horror of the night, I saw that over half of the people present were all VIPs. When these tickets were sold back in July, I was under the impression that there were only 5 available per location. Reality suggested it was closer to 50, and it dawned on me that this would be nothing close to the personal kind of meet I had in mind.

As to the actual fanbase, it was impressive/a relief to see that the proportion of males was about as high as 40%. Eye-catchers were mostly punk-rock rather than the goth lolis or animu maids/nurses of earlier years, thank god. One guy donned an impressively faithful cosplay of Kyo from Obscure's PV. One girl sported a simplified version of Kyo's makeup for this tour on exactly half her face. I was shoved in line close to a group of Japanese-speaking girls whom I suspected came from Japan - and suspicions were confirmed when they pulled out passports instead of licenses as their picture ID. The venue didn't even need our printed proof of purchase; they simply looked at our ID and checked the name against their list. I had run to my car and back for nothing.

My coughs, at least, had dropped in frequency by this time, and again, I could not be more thankful that no one looked disgusted or gave me a hard time over it. When Deg's camera man came over to roll across the line, I managed to be standing upright and still without breaking into a fit, and even managed to smile and wave at the guy, whom I could see smiling back from behind the camera.

At 6:07 we were let into the venue after some simple instructions. It turned out there was no coat check at all; we had to hold onto our own stuff. On the one hand I was relieved for not having a purse; on the other, I began to sweat profusely at the idea of having to wave the pre-autographed poster and Unraveling CD I received as part of the VIP package in my hands while in the mosh pit.

The venue had a bar to the side, and next to it in the rear, a railed-in section for cafe-like tables and chairs. The 50 or so of us VIPs were penned in like lambs into this cafe section. As soon as everyone was locked in, we saw a certain five people walking towards the bar, spreading out into a line, and standing still into cool-looking postures. People cheered and phone cameras flashed. My fit had finally, thankfully, subsided by this point, or else that would certainly have drawn unpleasant attention right in front of them. I was toward the front with six or seven heads in front of me, and with minor shifting I was able to see that they stood very far away, perhaps 10 yards from even those at the closest edge of the pen. Looking at them from this distance was no different from looking at cardboard cutouts; heck, from the pit we were closer to even Shinya on stage than we were to any of them at this so-called "meet" and "greet".

Speaking of Shinya, compared to the rest, he really was worrisomely skinny, and I could not take my eyes off how tiny his legs appeared. He was the only one not wearing thick-soled/hidden-heeled shoes, which explained why he looked so much shorter than Kaoru in pictures from previous meet&greets. Kaoru was the only one without facial obstruction, and he was also the only one who moved at all, joking with a staff on the side, versus pretending to be a cardboard cutout like the other four. In either case (and typical of Kaoru), he looked into our general direction but not at any one in specific, and my imagination made me think I caught his eye perhaps once. Kyo wore the standard black shroud over his head like I have consistently seen in pictures before, so that was no surprise. Thankfully, he generously let half his face peek out instead of completely covering everything like he did at a previous venue.

Nora facilitated a group Q&A by taking random hands, walking back to ask the band, and then walking back to us to yell out the translated answers. The only noteworthy one was when one kid asked what was their favorite part about touring in the U.S., Toshiya said he liked everything - performing, meeting fans, visiting places - even living on the bus was fun. Considering what I've read from Kei (Chinese lady who moved to and works in Japan just to follow the band; my source of all the latest Deg sightings/nuances/news) on weibo about how much they get sick of eating pizza/burgers every night and missing Japan, I found the answer particularly hilarious. Somehow my brain froze, and I had no idea what or for whom I had questions. I did not raise my hand even once.

After 10 or 15 questions, we were instructed to prepare our cameras to give to Nora for our picture with the band. I had my fourth heart attack of the night as I completely didn't expect they'd allow us to use our own cameras/phones. I didn't even bring a camera; all I had was my extremely old and shitty phone. In any case, the assembly line was moving fast, I had no time to make friends or to ask favors, so I grit my teeth and handed my phone over for inspection. They did not allow me to personally pass them any gifts; I had to leave my prettied-up gift bag of instant miso at a table for later collection. I counted three people ahead of me, the line mercilessly chugging along. Two. My heart was in my throat as I was completely clueless over where (or next to whom) should I stand. One. A decision arose and reverberated inside my head: "Go to Kyo, go to Kyo, go to Kyo." My turn. And, to my utter shock, my feet somehow gained a consciousness of their own and carried me straight to Toshiya in a beeline.

No instructions were given on whether we were allowed to touch them, and in the rush I did not dare to personally ask him whether I could. I simply put my hands close toward him and bowed whispering はじめまして, to which he held out his hands and responded with a smile and a deep nod. Did we touch? I couldn't even tell. That was all the time I had before Nora started the countdown for picture, so I whirled around and quickly inserted myself between him and Die, not daring to touch either. We only got one shot, and then it's on to the next person. Snap, next. Snap, next. I had to pick up my phone immediately afterwards and did not have the chance for even a backward glance at Kyo. I bolted straight toward the pit, knowing it had to be made up there by the actual concert.

The rail was already full, so I picked my usual off-center slightly-to-the-left position in the second row, where I had been for both of my previous two concerts. I don't think it was by choice in 2007, and in 2008 I learned that that was the most strategic spot anyway if I wanted to be close to as many of them as possible.

It was around 6:50 by this time, and door for general audience was supposed to open at 7, with Dagoba's opening act starting at 8. I inspected the picture on my phone during this time and was extremely surprised to realize that these guys were not at all as emaciated as they look in pictures - even Shinya was healthily around the same size as me (my legs were possibly even smaller(!!) than his, WTF?!), and everyone else was bigger for certain. For years I've apparently had the wrong impression that they were Phil's or Pritt's size. To the exact contrary of how the camera adds 20 pounds onto everyone else, it appears to actually shave off 20 for these guys. After poring over the extremely-poor-quality picture for some time, I finally concluded it was because they have these gigantic heads that totally screw up your sense of proportion and make their bodies look smaller and skinnier as a result.

Prime example: compare Kaoru's head to mine.

I then compared pictures with the girl who filed in on my left side, and marveled at the fact that Kyo was clearly smiling/smirking from under his shroud in her picture. I asked whether I could stow my CD and poster in her backpack for the concert, and to my utter surprise, she agreed at once without a second's hesitation. After explaining my phone, she even said if only I'd let her known earlier, she would have been perfectly happy to have let Nora take my picture using her legit camera instead of mine. In my extreme gratitude (albeit obviously too late) I quickly made friends with her; Sarah was her name. From time to time we checked the gathering crowd behind us, and were surprised that up until the moment Dagoba was right about to open, the floor was still only about 3/4 filled, and this already was a small venue to begin with compared to the two I've previously been to in NY. The stage was small and crowded, and the gap between stage and rail was also the narrowest I've ever seen - no more than 4 feet wide, and if performers wished, they could probably put a foot right to the rail while still standing on stage.

Lights were promptly off at 8, and Dagoba's drummer, Franky, was the first one on stage. Short but well-built and amazingly cute with a head full of long braids. Loved to twirl a drumstick between two fingers, tossing it ten feet into the air and catching it between the fingers again. Breathtaking smile, extremely cognizant of the audience, and easily recognized me later in NY despite having had no interactions other than eye contact here between stage and pit. Vocalist Shawter was unimpressionable at first (Sarah would like to disagree), but became better-looking quickly the more you looked at him. The guitarist and bassist were both about as inactive on stage as Kaoru, which...does not make them visible or memorable. However, the guitarist wore a sleeveless shirt that said "DIAMOND DUST"... so combined with the fact that these guys were French, I couldn't stop lol'ing in my head thinking about Saint Seiya's Camus.

Sound-wise, they had some extremely catchy rhythm and riffs...even though they all sounded similar except for one song. I was looking at Shawter and I could clearly tell he was singing, even melodiously at some parts, but the sound quality was so terrible that I didn't even know what his singing voice sounded like until NY. So, unfortunately, I spent the 45 minutes that Dagoba performed mainly staring at Franky. (Oh. So maybe that's why he recognized me so easily in NY, loool.) He and Shawter were all the visual entertainment Dagoba had to offer, other than the one instance where the wire of his mic crossed over with the bassist's cord, so the latter had to awkwardly untangle them both by crawling under Shawter's cord while he remained oblivious during the entire ordeal and kept singing.

To prove my earlier guess on how narrow the gap was between stage and rail, Shawter stepped over at least four times during performance, standing right against the rail to sing over our heads. His gut was right in the face of the girl two or three people over to my right at the rail, and she turned around to avoid touching him and awkwardly smiled when she saw I noticed. Shawter had a fun time directing the mosh, requesting the crowd to split down the middle or to form a circle gap for a wall of death, and it was pretty amazing that people actually obliged. Aside from the first three rows who clung onto the rail, the people behind us looked dangerous, dancing and crashing into each other in the space they continuously milled and pushed to create. When I was not looking at Franky I was turned looking backwards at the crowd - compared to how everyone would just uniformly squeeze forward trying to get as close to the stage as possible for Deg, the dynamic here is simply that these people were having fun.

The crowd gave a decent cheer as they promptly finished at 8:45, each member taking their own short videos of the audience and having a roadie take the band's picture together with us as the background. Crewmen from both bands spent the next 20 minutes clearing the stage and equipment-testing for Deg. It was heartwarming to see some familiar colors, if not familiar instruments. Kaoru had his signature ESP in a bright metallic purple glitter body as well as a black; Die had his classic red as well as the black-and-red mottled I had seen before in a guitar lesson on youtube. Toshiya, unfortunately, never uses my favorite black-on-white again, and stuck with a sharp-looking black ESP-00. Also extremely amusing was how the mic stands for the three guitar-holders were filled with rows of picks, sticking out like protrusions on a spinal column. Purple for Kaoru, red for Die, black for Toshiya. Judging by how few were plucked and missing, this was likely their supply for the entire tour.

After the somewhat physical proximity through the opening act, I spent this interval getting familiar with the people around me to break the ice for the imminent cuddling/dry humping of the following two hours. The girl directly in front of me was thankfully no taller than 5'0" while over twice my width, and she did not mind one bit that I held directly onto her, or that my arms were perpetually stuck sticking up once I raised them to either side of her head, with no place to rest other than onto her shoulders. She wore her drawstring bag by hanging it from the neck, and before we were informed that we were allowed to drop our belongings onto the other side of the rail, I helped her relieve the weight by pulling up the string so it wouldn't dig into her skin. This was the kindest crowd I had ever met, and I tried to reciprocate at every turn. I took off my jacket at this point, but didn't have to worry about holding it for the rest of the show because it was tightly caught between my body and the girl in front.

Nora and crew finally gave the flashlight signal at 9:15, and the stage promptly darkened, making everyone scream. I listened hard at the intro background music, but it was not Kyoukotsu no Nari or Sa Bir or any tune that I could recognize. Exciting, therefore, to consider that it might actually be from the new album, but there was no time to let this sink in because barely after it started, Shinya's glowing white shirt slipped on stage from the left, followed quickly by Die, Toshiya, and Kaoru. Toshiya was wearing a turquoise sleeveless turtleneck along with his signature pleated skirt and black leggings. They picked up their instruments without much acknowledgement to the crowd beyond a raised arm, and I registered once again just how crowded they were on that tiny stage right as Kyo made his entrance. He wore black skinny jeans and an open leather jacket, the black shroud draping over his head like a hood trailing so long onto the floor that he stepped on its corner, slipped for a microsecond, but recovered lightning fast before the crowd even had time to react, and rushed headlong into a growl that opened up Obscure.

I soon realized that his makeup, compared to photos at previous stops of the tour, was unique for each show. Baltimore was so far the only place where he drew a third eye, and, compared to later NY, this facepaint job was more sophisticated and detailed by the addition of red to the basic black and white. His single red glove shone in the stage light.

It also became apparent what they meant when they said they would bring more elements of their lives in Japan to the States: at each venue, they projected unique visualizations into the backdrop for each song. For example, songs that had their own PVs definitely had elements that hinted at the official videos, but songs that didn't also had mesmerizing, abstract or otherwise imagery.

I breathed a sigh of relief that I could at least hear Kyo's voice over the rest of the band (unlike how it was for Dagoba), but the sound quality was still undoubtedly the worst I've encountered out of all previous shows. It was impossible to admire Kyo's performance (as both here and later in NY, his voice had been in superb healthy condition, the best I've heard); it was all about physically rumbling from Toshiya and Shinya while deaf in the ears from Kaoru and Die. This was the set list as I remember. The first three songs and the last song I'm quite sure about, the order in the middle I'm more murky:

Obscure

Juuyoku

Karma

Dozing Green

Ryojoku no ame

Bottom of the Death Valley

Karasu

Rinkaku

Different Sense

Dead Tree

Vinushka

The Blossoming Beelzebub

Kasumi
- encore -

The Final

Reiketsu nariseba

Hageshisa to koto mune no naka de karamitsuita shakunetsu no yami

I was a little disappointed by the lack of Vanitas and Diabolos (present in the Japan tour according to Kei), but given the presence of both Vinushka and Beelzebub, I feel I hardly have the right to complain.

I roughly occupied the spot between Kyo and Toshiya. Since the backdrop was not a still banner like previous lives I'd attended, I found my attention split way too many ways - on Kyo, of course; on Toshiya, whose breakdancing was obviously and depressingly restrained so as to not risk crashing into Kaoru or Kyo; the ever-changing and fascinating projected imagery; and, lastly, my sudden comfort and energy to thrash in the pit with every ounce I could give. Gone were the old days of '07 and '08 when I cowered, confused and scared, passively shoved around like a limp dead fish. I was sandwiched by two fleshy human walls, in front and behind, who were both thankfully all flesh and no bone, so even during the worst of the moshing, I was merely squeezed between two human buns rather than being skewered by elbows from every which way.

When stray guitar notes loosely began to morph into the intro for The Blossoming Beelzebub, the video projected onto the backdrop suddenly changed into a stark closeup of Kyo's face. It took a moment to hit home that this was a live shot of us. Surely enough, Kyo had retreated next to Shinya's fortress, back turned, cowering into a video camera pointing toward the audience. The next ten minutes was a wild trip riding on his every nuanced expression from underneath all that makeup - I'd never seen anything of the like in any recorded DVD live. Intensely eerie, intensely appropriate for just this song.

As previously mentioned, Toshiya's movement was largely confined by the tight space, and it was clear he didn't dare pull off his crazier and flashier antics. During one song, however, he grabbed his mike stand and rubbed it against the neck of his bass, somehow playing a few phrases while dancing and using the metal rod of the stand. He swept his gaze across the audience without personally connecting with any one's eyes. For the intro of Bottom of the Death Valley, he played the 2013 version.

Kaoru mostly stuck to his left corner of the stage as usual, all business and close to no showmanship. I craned my neck to the right a few times to check on Die, and I could swear that somehow, every time I did, Die also happened to be looking in my direction as well. It was too far (plus his eye makeup was too heavy) to tell whether it was direct eye contact. Similarly so with Kyo - he swept his eyes across us many times, but it was difficult to judge eye contact through his white contacts. In any case, there was nothing comparable with the one connection we shared at my first concert in '07.

Some cheering and yelling occurred for the encore, but not enough (and especially not compared to NY) that it didn't even hit me that that was the encore; I thought it was simply a regular break for the band. When they returned, I immediately understood what Kei had meant when she raved about wanting some of that magic makeup remover of Kyo's: he didn't wipe off what was on his throat and chest, but his face had somehow become completely whistle-clean in the three or so minutes they were offstage.

Before Hageshisa [insert rest of super-long name], Kyo suddenly stepped to the very edge of the stage and yelled: LASS SONNN! To which we replied as one: NO!!! And this exchange repeated three or so more times before Die and Kaoru dove into the intro. This was the only time Kyo spoke to us, and he stayed right at the rim of the stage. The other three followed suit after briefly swapping sides, eventually all lining up less than four feet away from us, in a row, as every hand reached toward them, just barely out of grasp. It surprised me a little that Kyo did not strip at all other than tossing away his shroud - I was looking super forward to meeing his Buddhist thousand-arm Kannon tattoo.

I realized only the following day that this was the occasion when I had the air squeezed out of me, enough to form a bruise on my sternum and hip the following day. At the time I did not notice at all. The girl in front of me, I, and the person behind formed a three-people sandwich/dry humping train as we thrashed in sync through the entire song.

And then, abruptly, it was over. Kyo was the first to slip off the stage, while the others stayed to spray water and throw picks/drumsticks/drum covers. I was "blessed" by Shinya's holy water as well as catching a full bottle of unopened water from Toshiya. I poured a draft into my mouth and then fed it to Sarah on my left, two grateful girls to my right, as well as the girl in front. Did not catch anything else, but I also couldn't help but notice that the picks and etc. they threw were new, unused, and certainly unkissed, unlike the one I caught of Die's back in '07. Therefore...oh well.

I waited around for Sarah to retrieve her bag from the other side of the rail, put my jacket on again, and headed over to the merchandise table. Most shirts were $30, but what I really wanted at that point was the $20 tote bag to hold my CD, squeezed-flat poster, and Toshiya's bottle. I went through both of my zipped pockets twice, emptying and turning each inside out, and could not find my $40 cash. Whether someone took them or they somehow fell out of my zipped pockets (was not on the floor of the pit anywhere when we checked) I would never find out, but, very kindly, my drivers' license and credit card as well as keys and phone were safe and sound. I could always get merch later, and since I still had everything else that were more important, I was grateful for having only lost cash.

After Sarah purchased her merchandise, we huddled outside the venue with 40 or so people. The group of Japanese girls were also there, and I realized they were going to attempt a wait-out. I discussed this with Sarah, and we decided to join in on this quest. The temperature was not unbearable at ~40 degrees, we both came from out-of-state, lodging at motels, and didn't have time constraints for tomorrow. In our words, we had nothing to lose by waiting. It was 11PM at this time, the concert having finished exactly on time. We made a short trip to a 711 one block away for food, then returned to the bus, huddled, chatted, watched people hang out or leave. I was feeling completely fine and even energetic, the polar opposite of my half-dead state back in 2008. I concluded it was because I was physically in shape this time, and started wishing I had purchased tickets to the Philadelphia show for the following day as well as for NY.

Dagoba's Shawter was walking around taking pictures with random fans, and we saw Franky around the corner as well. Roadies from both bands were loading up the compartment in the back of the bus with instruments, largely ignoring the crowd. We saw no hint of being shooed away by the venue, so we continued staking it out.

At 1:15AM (~20 people remaining by this time), Shinya and Toshiya walked out from a side entrance toward the bus, surrounded by a crew of roadies. We made an immediate dash toward the rail that guided toward the bus entrance, and the roadies were alarmed into trying to block us. But we were a quiet and calm group, doing no more than whispering a few お疲れ様でした or おやすみ and shooting them glances of love. No screaming, no squealing, no flashes of camera. Both had their sunglasses on and did not slow down or show signs of having noticed us. One Japanese girl squeezed in for a split second to hand her Toshiya-sama a card with a full bow, and retreated right after he took it. I was standing almost immediately next to the bus's entrance behind the rail, and watched them climb the steps less than two feet away. The roadies tried to tell us that everyone else was already on the bus, but of course no one believed them.

At 1:50AM (~10 people remaining by this time; even the Japanese girls had gone), Kaoru and Die walked out from the same entrance, surrounded by a smaller crew. One was trying to playfully videotape them, but Kaoru (no sunglasses) continuously waved him aside jokingly, and also entirely ignored us as he made it onto the bus. Die, however, we could tell was looking at us one by one even with sunglasses on. He did not say anything, but nodded here and there when we said the same words of good night to him. He smiled at me when he was still a ways down the rail, and nodded and smiled again right as he climbed up the steps next to me.

At this point we already felt like everything was worth it; everyone marveled at how friendly Die was. A few more people left, and it was down to five or six of us who still did not give up on seeing Kyo. At around 2:30AM the bus door opened to let out four or five roadies, and, suddenly, Die. He was not wearing sunglasses this time, and our group of five was spread-out and did not have time to crowd around or even react. By pure luck I was off the rail but still standing quite close to the bus entrance, and watched with wide eyes as Die didn't even bother with the railed path, instead cutting through to squeeze around right beside me. He smiled with a nod as he approached, turned and smiled again right as he brushed past me, and then did a double take to smile one last time before finally walking off toward some area one block down with bars. The handful of roadies loosely followed him away as we stood, jaws dropping. He looked unbelievably youthful, even younger than me. He could have been 20 years old.

Those who felt they could not ask for any more had left, too, after that. It was just me, Sarah, and a third girl by this time - we stuck by our principle that we had absolutely nothing to lose, we wanted to see Kyo, and we could wait through the entire night if that was what it would take. At 3:30AM Die returned, alone and way ahead of the rest of the crew. They came back by a different way, I suppose to avoid attention, but a bit pointless since they would still need to return to the bus regardless of which route they take, and we...were right at the bus.

Since it was just us three, he did not back down when we moved closer. Sarah suddenly asked whether she could hug him, and he nodded a yes. After she was done, the other girl asked for a picture, to which he also obliged. I asked, Can I get a hug, too? Die was all smiles. I had no time to think and simply closed in, giving him a tight squeeze. Again, he was not emaciated like how he looks in some pictures. He's...normal-sized. Very nice leather jacket, and very much a gentleman, arms above the waist. When we separated he was still smiling at me as I said Thank you, and we whispered each other Good night. He gave a last wave before he entered the bus.

The third girl left, and it was just me and Sarah. Soon afterwards, a Dagoba roadie came out for a smoke and started a conversation with us, curious over why we're still waiting. When we explained about our hopes for Kyo, he told us, sincerely, that Kyo had already been sleeping for some time. He was the first one back on the bus, and usually sneaked in before any of the fans were even out of the venue. If we simply wanted Kyo to sign something, he would be very happy to pass it to him on the bus for us, but to wake Kyo up just to meet us would be a bit much. After conversing a bit more we finally believed him, and Sarah and I slowly, reluctantly made our way to my car.

By the time I dropped her off at her hotel and had driven back to mine, it was around 4AM. I did not sleep that morning until after 5:30, waking up again at 6:47. I tidied up and ate two pieces of toast. By 8:20AM I was on the road, driving to Princeton to see moose.

Die recognized me as soon as he got on stage.

Those quiet chords after Kyo whispers "Minerva..." were played personally for me. Don't think I'll ever go back to my old default between-Toshiya-and-Kyo position ever again.

Last straw to finally push me to get a better phone

Held hands and spoke one word with Toshiya; stalked the bus long enough to get a squeeze-hug from Die. Hopefully a better report tomorrow.

Dir en grey Tour '07 Inward Scream, 2/10 New York @ Nokia Theater

Ah, if only I had been able to avoid the trip to Queens, and waited outside the Nokia since nine in the morning (as was the original plan)! I was later told by DanLee that he'd managed to sneak into the place at ten-ish, got backstage and observed the band members from some mere feet away before he was kicked out by a staff. ("'Ey! You aren't supposed to be in here yet!" "I work here." "Psh, right. Where're your badge and I.D.?")

The weather hadn't seemed so bad when I initially stepped out of the 42nd St. station at 1:10 PM. I called Dylan, and was slightly horrified when he told me that he, Zhu, and Ridwan were stationed all the way back at around 47th St. When I passed Nokia's entrance near 43rd, I sure-as-heck glared at the bastards who must have camped out since Friday-god-knows-when, all huddling and stamping and weeping from the cold, wrapped in their blankets, eying the line of later-comers behind them with an unmistakable air of feline pride. The thick line along the sidewalk was sectioned and divided, going down 7th Avenue up until just 47th, wrapped around the street corner, and (I imagine) wound the rest of its way around the block. I spotted Dylan's curly mop-head and red jacket just next to the street-corner pay phones, and gave Zhu a greeting punch to the fatty stomach before shifting next to Ridwan. These guys had arrived there around an hour earlier; the line behind them was already growing far beyond the bend.

The next five hours of my life was absolutely the worst waiting experience I have yet undergone. The sun was still nice and comforting until 2 PM; after that, it suddenly became cloudy (and even windy) and the chill was starting to set in everyone's bones. In Jing's case, her worst sufferers were her feet. (Converse does not exactly provide the thickest soles to separate the concrete's iciness from socked feet. Two toes on my left foot remained unresponsive for almost a month before I started regaining feeling in them.) Nelson showed up at around the second hour of waiting, providing Dylan and Zhu with alcohol (that royally pissed me off) which they all passed around, while we played a paper-version of Word Association (the highlight of the 5 hours?). Then the three of them decided to crash at a Friday's one block down 7th Avenue, and left Jing and Ridwan to suffer the coldest hour during that entire afternoon (4 - 5PM) while desperately fighting to keep our spot as the group behind us suddenly decided to push forward as much as they physically can. Some time after five the three returned, all smelly-breathed and rosy in the cheeks, and Nelson checked out at about the same time Dan finally showed up. Apparently the latter left after said encounter inside Nokia and went to Union Square to hang out with some of his Junior friends, instead of, you know...holding the rest of us a much better spot on the line.

The crowd finally began to move at 6:05, which I guess was relatively punctual. It really felt as if they were scanning in the tickets as slowly as humanly possible just to make us suffer even more. In a frenzy, we stuffed our bags one inside another's to facilitate the checking-in later. By the time we (Zhu, Dylan, and I) finally dashed into the venue, there was already quite significant a huddle around the stage. The rail, long-since-invisible, seemed a holy and unattainable place in my head. I looked behind and around, looking for signs of Dan and Ridwan's return from the coat check while checking out the place as a whole. It was amusing to see the seated portion in the back, where the younger audiences and their parents would be filed.

As everyone finally reunited and more people shuffled continually behind us, Dylan blew the first condom balloon. Some idiot hit it beyond the rail and onto the stage, but thankfully, the security guard served it back into the crowd instead of trashing the thing. A second, less-well-made balloon went up in the air, and both were popped soon after. =/ A dumb squealing poser girl tried to crowd-surf even before the concert has started, and was yelled down in no time.

The lights then dimmed as the background music toned down, impacting immediately the crowd's dynamic. As people squeezed forward to the first extremity, I counted the heads in front of me: some obscure number between five to ten, perhaps seven. Our little group was already starting to drift apart; Zhu, Dylan, and even DanLee somehow all ended at odd rows behind me. The only reason Ridwan and I managed to stick together for the entire night was because he held on to my shoulders/waist and wasn't letting go for dear life. Stage lights (green, red) were initially turned in such a way that the crowd was too blinded to very well see those who entered on stage.

Bleed the Dream looked like your average emo band, and the vocalist (kind of cute, but mostly meh) had on this pair of extremely tight pants that went unzipped five minutes into the show. About half the crowd was physically moving along to their music, which all sounded the same after the first or so song. I suppose the highlight here was when he swung the mic by its wire some five times around his neck and managed to not only avoid choking himself, but also unwinding it in quite a non-awkward manner.



===End of original draft===



Dug up this thing that blogger somehow saved for the next six years, a report that I unfortunately never finished. Now that I think about it, my timeline with Deg goes something like this:

2003 - discovery of band
2006 - Deg tests the water in the US, but tickets sold out within the first few minutes at Avalon Club. Jing skipped track anyway to stare at the outside of the venue, bought and ate a pack of expired cashews to commemorate, and morosely went home.

2007 - Successfully bought tickets to the above show with Dylan in person at the venue the day sales started. Highlights include: holding direct eye contact with Kyo for what felt like eternity, catching Die's pick, and getting majorly yelled at by parents because landlady reported to them that I didn't get home until ~1AM.

2008 - Second time I saw Deg, went with Jarek/Jimmyn/Jen. Got as close as second row, touched the bar, but wasn't able to squeeze all the way to the front. The two chicks ahead of me had to have been on drugs because they literally did not stop full-body headbanging for the entire x hours of the show. I had to be physically supported on the way back to Jimmyn's car, surprisingly not bruised. Performance-wise, this was a better show than my first, and my feelings for Toshiya enjoyed a 200% surge ever since he stole the show.

And...nothing for the next five years, apparently, despite Deg having toured the US a few more times.

Until now.

September, two months ago, marked the tenth year anniversary of Vulgar's release. They've grown no less than I have grown.

Kanon Story Mode

Saving this for reference.



Listening to the exchange with Saga starting at 5:03 on repeat, fucking amazed at how Okiayu subtly but distinctively gave them different voices. Squeeing upon hearing traces of Alucard when Kanon trails off at certain words. And, lololololol'ing uncontrollably at how he goes Nii-san this and Nii-san that thirteen years ago.

lulpaintchat

Fun, but a bit of a pain wrestling with the program. If only I realized there were multiple layers available to use earlier... *facepalm* Next time I want to try mashing styles together simply because of how drastically different we are.

Also it's a funny feeling remembering that, as recent as May, I still had no idea how male anatomy worked. And now, still learning all its male kinks, I can't imagine having the enthusiasm to ever draw females again.

Motivational poster through December

THANK YOU BRAVE SOLDIER. SET ME ON FIRE, LET ME BURN

Tl;dr self publishing is literally the most fulfilling thing I've ever participated in and DAT FEEL is nothing short of addicting.

I need at least 5 poster-size images done by the start of December for the 10-year anniversary publication of the Saga/Kanon forum.

Just when I think I've had enough of this haircut

I realize I might have a thing for its blonde version on dudes.

.

.

.

 

Videntia

1. When Die's new solo project was still a base rumor, I was dead worried that this signaled the beginning of the end for Dir en grey. Until, of course, details were released that it's actually a conglomerate of performers who are just doing lives of classic freaking anime songs. And that Die-chan really just wanted to bring DBZ's Vegeta to life. Sounds harmless, right? So naturally I lol'd, kicked back, F5'd for live reports, and the next thing I
WAIT
A FUCKING MINUTE
DID SHE JUST SAY
THE SECOND SONG HE PLAYED
WAS SAINT SEIYA?!!?!??!?!!!!!!!!!!!??
WHAT
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTT
FUCK I'M DYING I can't handle this level of ultra fandom crossover truck I'M ABOUT TO FUCKING IMPLODE SOMEONE HELP


DIR EN GREY (or Die, at least).
SAINT SEIYA

IN THE SAME SENTENCE. SAME CONTEXT.

2. 老莫, my internet Jesus lover crush who penned The World of Yesterday (aka THAT fic), is now writing its sort-of sequel. From Kanon's perspective rather than Saga's. Still unfinished, still serializing (daily updates! She is UNREAL), but already overloaded with so many servings of awesome that I'm pretty much weeping on a daily basis of how good she is. And pretty much doomed to translating this, too, whenever it's done.

...In fact I get the strongest urge to start on one particular segment right the fucking NOW, except...there is...one, last, most important deadline, tomorrow.

So so much love. How am I not bursting?

SSO promo

If everyone can only see just the small thumbnail version at all times, maybe this will actually still look good when I wake up tomorrow morning. Been trying for too many hours straight that I simply can't tell any more.

99% Approval Rate achieved, yet

something still feels majorly off, and I feel I can finally put a finger on why.

After the initial shock/anger passed, his stance essentially is now this: Get the training, get the first year or two of job experience, and then come over to China. I have the resources and connections to have you start your own studio. Draft a 5-year plan, a 10-year plan. No slacking, no drifting, no settling with a 5-digit salaried job. You want to do this, you better damn well make it big.

Which I have no problems with, in principle. "Dream big or go home;" "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough," right? So why am I not happy that I'm getting what I want and earning their support? Why does it feel like oppression instead?

Only now I realized.

Citizen Kane.

While of course not an exact analogous situation, it, still, never really was about me, was it? It's still about his being in control, even if he firmly believes he's doing it all purely for my sake, for the best in my interest. I can throw him curve balls and majorly change the blank in what I want, and he can even be okay with it, but to think he would ever relinquish control, to ever cease pushing? That is foolishness.

And of course, part of this, too, feels like I'm just being a whiny unsatisfiable bitch crying over first world problems. Think of all the sheep children who never could fight to break the DOCTOR OR LAWYER routine. Think of what I have, miraculously it still seems, actually achieved.

I need to work on that portfolio. Deadline planned as the end of this month, as soon as I wrap up my other SSOnly promo.

Nike

Gift postcard for the Gemini table @SaintSeiyaOnly next month in Shanghai.

50% down

 

Came out to mom today. Cat's out of the fucking bag, thumbs up. Now on to the next (always tougher) 50%, and to officially pour fourth with that portfolio.

I actually didn't even remember what this 'ambition' tag was until I checked. And what a surprise, how fitting.

...Almost there.

Gemini

"If I'm gone, will you follow?"

"Mhm."

"But you never came."

"And you've never gone."

"That's because the one who always leaves is you."

"If you go, I'll be there."

"Liar."

"Let go. I'm not leaving."

"Liar! I know you'll disappear as soon as I even open my eyes. No way I'm letting go."

"Go. Live on."

"...What about you?"

"If you go...I'll be there."

Hard pixelated pressure-controlled opacity edge

 

Remembered that I very well liked certain aspects of ChibiPaint, even more than SAI.

Consistency 2

Sexy fucking beasts. Love love love.

And lol fuck you too clean lineart+cell shading. You and I were never meant to be.

Aftermath of Gemini

I didn't buy this book with the intention of deconstructing and psychoanalyzing everything I've ever liked down to the last bit and smithereens. I didn't sign up to be cured of whatever 'disease' that caused me to unduly fawn over some archetype of fictitious characters. It felt like a downright loss of hold and attraction for tangible reality as I kicked bottom in this pool of obsession. I didn't ask for any of this.

That said, Gemini (though I wish it had kept the original much-more-meaningful and much-less-misleading French title of The Meteors) was the farthest thing from a bad book. If one were to read it with zero expectation or assumption, it is undoubtedly the most fulfilling and thought-provoking ingenious piece of literature I have come across in a long while. Unfortunately, I walked in with the intention of seeking fanfiction-esque solace, suffering my worst case yet of being misled by back-cover summaries. As a result of which...

I buoyed in empty limbo for the past ten days, unable to accept the apparent phenomenon that my predominant emotion for them had somehow changed to...nostalgia.

Thank god that 1.Weibo exists and 2. Brave Soldiers timed it just right to release new trailers because MEIN GOTT HOW DID I EVER FORGET

JUST EXACTLY WHAT IT TAKES TO GET MY BLOOD BOILING

LIKE THIS

LIKE THEY DO.

Thank you 老白 for comparing their shots. Thank you for making the joke that Kanon clearly casted for both roles because Saga lazied out and only stuck to playing BB's scenes.

Thank you, Love. Now let us burn for x more years to come.



Also happy birthday Aldrius.

The Dandy Garbage Man

And I thought Underworld's handling of the subject matter was masterful enough. Gemini catapults it straight into the realm of ingenious. Keep on keeping on, Monsieur Alex.

Consistency 1

Part of a larger Chinese meme/practice on drawing the same face consistently. Except in my case, it's doubling as learning how to draw different expressions at all. OTL. Plus at the same time I desperately want to splash in to practicing hair/value/hue/drawing speed/etc. while also simultaneously hitting the doubt that if I don't even have a set style to call my own, does practicing consistency even matter? Ergo, another item added to the endless list of things to--

It feels I'm near conclusion on the search for that eternal spring of passion, and it does not seem to lie with medicine. Visualization, enabler of the future.

First non-textbook bought in how long?

Thus, commemoration required.

Story is about a pair of male identical twins, incest involved. (（ 　ﾟ々ﾟ）⋯⊶≕≍≖≎≢≣≋∺∻⋰⋰ What?) Epic story according to Salman Rushdie.

MY BODY (and imagination) IS READY.

Hair exchange neighbors ver.

Holy crap this took way too long.......and as a result I'm now so tired of seeing this that I can't even complete the simple act of drag&drop layers to complete the shipping version as originally intended. Working...slowly...on a max of three more pairs.

Earning language

I remember when English was a foreign string of words, a list of vocabulary on strips of paper, a table of verb tenses to be studied and memorized. I remember when I obediently wrote jumbled-nonsense diary entries in those long summer days when they were at work and I was left home alone, pre-internet days, bored. I remember first picking up the fourth volume of Harry Potter despite missing about a fourth of the plot, eyes sweeping across words but not understanding, and my subsequent surprise at the amount I missed upon rereading, a month(? Can't be more than a year) later.

And the immediate next thing I recall, I was fluent. Not 'became fluent', but 'was fluent'. Somehow I hold no recollection of when or how the jump occurred; it was zero to fluency with the x amount of time in between a seemingly complete blank. 

How I earned Spanish was a similar mystery, but I can associate that in-between stage's missing memory with general time-based erosion. The case with English...that excuse simply doesn't float as well.

Part of me realizes that the magical ingredient, in both cases, was forced-submersion in daily interaction with native speakers. Can twatter be an effective emulation of that? I wonder.

Passion holds me now.　

そして茨様、私が待ってください。

Something NOT Saint Seiya? WTF

I surprise even myself. Hello, PaintBBS. Long time no fucking see, default colors. And how can I possibly forget you, animations?

But if anything, I feel one thing I've definitely improved upon since those years is a certain taste for value. Therefore, thanks to easy adjustments:

These are how I like things now.

The urge for words

suddenly pours forth. Have I mixed with colors for too long?

Meaning of the color blue. Feelings surging through. Where are you? At vision's edge, if only I could peel back this skin, this air, it intuits true that you would be on the other side. Both or one, you.

Sky and Sea are simultaneously the closest things together and the farthest things apart. Where they meet...

A new oekaki board

Try me.

Fujou is gone, Skylands is gone, and fearsome is slower than a crawl. Oekaki seems to be a thing of 2003. Yet...now, in this age, I have a board. In beta, yes, with limited features, yes, seemingly without even basic options such as changing board-wide template, yes. But...

I wonder.

Random fanaticism outburst #530

So I was in the middle of checking out the new PS3 game that's coming out and then OF COURSE THIS HAPPENED where they introduce the big bad bosses and shit and I'm blown away by Okiayu as per usual and my pants are fucking wet as shit, thank you. Of fucking course.

Also how is Kanon NOT the big bad for the second arc again? ...Oh. Wait.

I swear I will marry this guy and beseech that he speaks to me in only the Saga voice  at. All. Times. WHY AREN'T THERE MORE MMD OR ANY OTHER FANMADE VIDS WITH HIS ACTUAL VOICE WHAT THE FUCK THIS MAKES SHIT SENSE

THE RARITY OF THIS ONE PISSES ME OFF



I'M DYING




Oh and some progress on the next brothers thing I guess. Totes can't tell what's going on.

...

Whelp, looks like that's a failed attempt #2. Although it has gotten to the point that if I go to bed without at least doodling or trying something, the day doesn't feel complete. Too bad I can't keep up having something to actually show for everyday. Frustration is still there, but habit has formed.

If I ever have time in life again...



02. Goodnight kiss