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Someday Will I Be the Greatest Alchemist?
https://anilist.co/anime/177506/Izure-Saikyou-no-Renkinjutsushi
(I just remembered I had to work on that other article I left unfinished thanks to this failed embed! Hooray!)
Yes!
‘Someday Will I Be the Greatest Alchemist?〘Izure Saikyou no Renkinjutsushi?〙aka (localized ENG title) Possibly the Greatest Alchemist of All Time is bound to get the slave juices in your saliva glands moist!
Damn, do I love this story!
I’m a little ticked off right now, but I haven’t seen episode 12 yet. Not even sure if it’s out at this time…
Do you want to know why I’m ticked off?
Well, stop reading if you don’t want no spoilers!
As of episode 11, the slaves ain’t slaves no more!
Like what in the actually fuck!
Damnit!
I signed up for slaves, damnit!
Fuck!
Fuck!
Shit’s so lame, dude!
Anyways, so slaves ain’t slaves no more, and Akane had sought refuge.
The great escape was a tad hoaky, but whatever. It’s all good!
I’m still giving the anime a masterpiece rating because slaves (even if they aren’t slaves anymore—for fuck’s sake).
Filled up with noticeably large quantities of mouthwash, I suspend all regret only in the name of guessing who came first in last week’s race!
‘Take it or leave it!’ I respond quietly and assuredly, but you’ll have to forgive the delay.
Happening and chance take a backseat here and here alone, so don’t get cocky.
/end…—☆
Categories
Caught myself in a l∞p
I’d learned about cranberry juice recently in treating nicotine withdrawal.
Still, it’s bonkers how easy it is to just keep smoking when you have a (hopefully) temporarily gimped up foot.
Today, I was able to go for a good walk, and for some reason, the left foot, there, fixed itself temporarily.
Why have you not healed in three weeks, foot?
So, I’ve hit a roadblock, and then, a small breakthrough with my vocal exercises (for increased VE production), so I’ve been trying to remind myself who I am: to beat the moneysink that smoking is.
I know I’ll have to resort to nicotine-cessation, and so, I’m planning to make a same-day appointment with my doctor: to get some pills, i.e., cranberry juice is expensive, and I don’t have the money to sustain this way of life with the moneysink that buying litres and litres of cranberry juice is.
Bupropion is on the menu!
okay
OK
O.K.
Okay
K.
K followed by a period.
OKAY
ok
O-o-o-ok-k-k-kay
No, I’m not going to go out of my way to figure out if Shinku has all those female bits. She’s a doll, people. Give it up already! I do feel bad about Shion and Rika, Lizlet and Kuesu, and Yukari and Mizore getting the short end of the pixel.
Now, go listen to Oshichauzo!!〘押しちゃうぞ！！〙, and then, give me crap for not figuring out how to get Arifureta in there.
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———————— incoming are more personal updates, etc.
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Finally, I’d like to take a second to express some meaningful words of another order: I’m very sorry to all those who got roped into my very stressful hospital stay. At least eight people took it poorly, and that’s my fault obviously.
Simply, I was doing everything in my power to not have a mental breakdown, and that meant riding the high of a much more fascinating world than it really is too long. As far as I’m concerned, it was for survival that I went into the deep end more, and I bit the backlash for it, definitely.
I came out with a need for another medication to treat what are known as pseudo-seizures (I forget if I’d already mentioned that on this website). Sorry if I’m repeating myself.
I’ll tell you something: It’s really something else to have something that’s obviously happening to you (pseudo-seizures) and seemingly no one taking you seriously. (I even got security called on me for giving another patient a hug!) Honestly, I have so many shit memories from that stay, and being treated like an asshole the entire time really made me wonder what the fuck I was doing wrong.
I expect normies to not give a fuck what happens to a lolicon, but guess what! Normies aren’t my gang to begin with, so fuck all y’all!
Now that the dust has settled some, I’d like to make it clear: I’m trying my best to stay among the living again—back/neck issues willing—and there’s some light I’d stumbled onto, too: A new exercise I can do with my voice in efforts of getting back my singing voice, though I am a long fucking way off from that, so don’t stick around holding your breath expecting it’ll happen in my lifetime!
There’s probably a saying by someone to the effect of ‘Treasures are found at the ends of a man’s various miseries.’
As far as I’m concerned, the people who were supposed to be supporting me betrayed me. And that has wounded me greatly. (I need to carry around these three dice now because they comfort me.) There, among a select few other choice words (I’d have with them if I had it in me to not avoid conflict), there, I would find the answers to all the shit I’d stirred up.
When I get Jupiter’s moons to line up so perfectly again, you’ll see a new post on my website! Huzzah!
Huzzah!
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We’re adding the y now because VST is already a thing.
I settled on it, and it’s final because I said so!
Scales and singing sound nice, but there’s much fat tied up to them. Too much fat! But be forewarned, the pressures you’ll experience will change, and if you take an hour out of your day one day, you’ll find the states I speak about in my VSTy pieces without fail.
If you choose to keep the fat and pursue scales and singing instead, states will arrive; however, so much slowly, you’ll gladly convince yourself what I speak of hasn’t a tinge of truth within it.
Method (as understood by Curtis Copley): Maintain what you’d learned of the easy flow of air, and take care not to press too hard when you reach maximums that face behind you. You’ll be dealt a coughing fit so sharp, it’ll hardly make you confident you’re on the right path.
Keep the words of your master close, for you are stepping into another world. It is one that I’d been forced to explore thanks to missteps I’d taken in the past.
① Pay no attention (at first) to how hard you’re throwing your voice (remember when he said you were looking for the place that felt right that made your lips vibrate?)
② Work as though you’re fitting more and more VE vertically through your vocal folds. You’ll likely not stumble upon this exact state at first (and I say that with no confidence because today I am working with so little VE I ought to get an award!)
③ Remember when your master told you to activate the abdominal muscles. It is, indeed, for stability, sustain, power, and reaching ever higher (when it’s accessible).
④ Don’t fall prey to the allure of wailing/belting. You’re just cutting yourself off at the knees as far as this time-sink is considered.
⑤ And I say this with confidence: Center yourself on your larynx and nowhere else! Use your eyesight as a guide for what straight forward feels like. Feel free to play with tilting focus, but you’ll just hurt your larynx doing that.
I do an hour at a time. Some warmup in the beginning and some warmdown to close for the sake of feeling like I’m doing things right.
This exercise takes inspiration from logic found in VST (final edit) (that first superbly written paper). And I put my absolute confidence in its potency!
Good luck, aspiring vocalist! Take care not to forget what it sounds like when your voice is tired!
Incoming!
We may be seeing more from Curtis yet.
I went from wanting to get on MAID somehow (for the second time) to being tentatively optimistic regarding the progress of my voice.
Simply, I’d noticed a great change in my voice not too long ago (relating to a state it had moved into). And if that wasn’t enough, (which it wasn’t) I donned the training cape once more, and I was struck by the results!
It’s been four days of hard training, and my falsetto is coming in clearer after each session (In fact, it had a bit of power just 10 min ago).
Of course, that doesn’t mean it sounds good; however, it’s ACTUALLY there after 13 years of practically nothing!
I have to make some recordings of the recordings I’d made now (because they’re on a voice recorder!)
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I am so far away from believing it’ll only take a couple months to have the VE I was born with; however, that’s not going to stop me from keeping that window of time in my head!
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They’re all on the computer, now. Now, I need to make them into a video, or put them on soundcl—maybe I’ll just do that!
Categories
Was it just that I hurt his feelings?
‘Was it just that I had hurt his feelings?’
That keeps rolling around in my empty head.
He claimed I was manic, then later, after some explaining (it’s quite the story), he acknowledged I wasn’t.
But get this: I’m still certified, so I guess it’s not so easy to be a grown-up in this grown-up world.
I am a little bitter, though I wonder what the point of anything is with a memory that cannot grasp most any speech that’s too fast. It’s a mighty ugly reality, and certainly tries my hope for recovery-of-the-brain.
Then, the big question is, ‘If I’m not manic, why am I still certified?’!
Oh oh! I know! It’s because his feelings got hurt. (The number of caveats I’m omitting would fit on a Christmas tree, but we’ll just ignore that – because I want to be perfectly in the right, and not just a little right.)
Like the fucking guy was pointing to my empty Listerine bottles in the bathroom as evidence!
I’m sorry, but no… They’re there to remind me of how important my teeth are…
Anyways, I felt the desire to write come hell or high water, so here I am writing this shit.
The real trouble is, I know this won’t be something that can sustain itself.
These meds, dude! They really fuck me up!
I keep gravitating to cigarettes because it’s the only thing that I can see myself buying even if it doesn’t solve anything—there’s a chance a smoke session will make me feel like I can game out. They’re so few and far between though.
Plainly, it’s typically just me abusing bupropion to beat the addiction I always end up in.
I get the feeling treating my brain this way isn’t good, but what choice do I have? (Hands up to those of you who can fathom ‘not being able to do anything.’
Yea, that’s me. Always feeling like I can’t fucking do anything. Psychiatric drugs aren’t good, my dude/dudette.
Those fucking cigarettes though, man!
Why can’t they just leave the tobacco alone?
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E-fashionista
The obvious way to understand a situation you can’t in your right mind is, evaluate it in like a knee-jerk-off way, and that’s rudimentary,my dear boy!
Long time fans of this channel will remember an article a couple back; it’s hard to believe they found me on meds again, but I really don’t care anymore. (I used up my last bit of good gliding vibes, so that I could be myself a little of a year.) (Thankfully, my speech is back being slow, and thoughts are harder to formulate my usual logics again. /s)
You really have to recognize how much physical agony I’d been in, knowing the feeling of my back falling apart, and be faced with persons so rash, no amount of eloquence could end the suffering—its clockwork: grand and desirable to the homeless, but no! That isn’t for me.
As I sit here waiting for an appointment that’ll (likely) go nowhere. I’m about ready to give up the seeking, and just go eat a rock.
Remember when I said this? ‘… [H]ave to recognize how much physical agony I’d been in’. Yes, unheard w/ video proof. And still, managed to fixate on any thing he could to—what’s that term? ‘<something> bias’?
Oh, don’t be naive! I’d may as well be consumed by fatalism. Would I recognize myself if I just choose to stop being me? Because dying alone is a rice cookie, afterall—BUT I’M SITTING HERE WITH A 20% MENDED VOICE, thinking ‘You don’t even realize who I am!’
I lost my voice, you sons-of-bitches!
He lost his voice, you sons-of-bitches.
I lost my voice, you sons-of-bitches!
He lost his voice, you sons-of-bitches.
Fucking give me sanity long enough to have contributed something other than this theatrical fantasy where no one plays the lead.
I expect greatness from those ‘treating’ me now. And they’ll never come any closer to understanding how the voice works, either. Now, isn’t that special?!
Let’s leave it up to future-me to partake in the looting in the far away and after!
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Music got me hearing; lost silk after the hike, too.
Now that I’m sleeping so much again, I can theorize new ways to modify sleep into what it needs to be: congratulations!
Congratulations!
Also, as a side-note, my neck hurts soooooooo much if I turn it just ever so slightly in either direction: left and right; forward and back are someway less predictable.
Music got me here! But boy, it takes a tall order of pain to touch certain phrases.