4ajbukoshka

+++TW: waste of time+++TW: tried to put the mood of this one into a story+++TW: You won’t find what you’re looking for+++
- What if I didn’t want you to be involved in that?
There came no answer as a familiar looking dark eyed child just picked up the bag of raspberry soda.
"Look at diis, it tickles n foams!"
Its curls bounced as it looked up in awe only to be pushed to the side and ignored.
- Don’t you think of me strong enough to survive? I've made it this far. And nobody expected.
“U pwawmissed us!“
Again, they were pushing it to the side, out of sight.
‘I do, I really do believe in you. But consider the costs. They want you broken. Run as fast as you can, that would be my advice. They never cared about destroying you as you could always be replaced. Come with me or run. Please.’
„Can I caaam wit yu? Pweease?”
It came softer this time without it being less pleading.
- But… What if they do care after all?
The response came without even a flinch.
‘I should be pitying anyone they care for. Never came good from evil. Those monsters would be the most terrible thing to encounter indeed.’
…
- I’m sorry that I let you down.
It’s not as if no one warned that poor thing.
‘I couldn’t tell you why I watched it make the same mistakes. Again. And nobody cared.’
“I aawayz do!”
…
Don‘t fit in? This is for you. Noone might see the struggle, the way you’re wrapped in pain and grief.
“But me I do!”
Let me be the first one to hug you this year. No one loves you.
“Why no one love me? Whut I did? Can I be better? I pwaamiss, I can!”
I make you feel as if you‘d drown but at once make sure it won‘t be in sorrow this time. I am every single part you hate about yourself.
“Why shoot we hait awself? What did we do?”
I am your flaws, your insecurities, everything you’d change though you shouldn’t even consider. Let me change the color of your aura. I’m not the darkness, I’m light.
Remember that happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to light the candles. Let me light those candles for you. Sit down, have some tea.
“It whorm an nice. I laaw tea!”
It will help against your stomach pain, too.
“Can I haff sum candy pwease?”
Take a candy. Close your eyes. Everything’s going to be alright and if you ask me to, rather than consider buying you a mockingbird I would gift you the world.
…
I might never have been close to any of their kind, but every person who understands my language feels like home.
’So what if I told you that home was no house - with keys to lock it and ban you to sleeping in a cardboard box. What if I told you there won’t be anyone stabbing your back with a fork anymore. What if I told you that you could just love yourself the way you are. Don’t ever let no one tell you you ain’t beautiful. Be proud of who you are. That’s what a wise man once told me. It is about time you discover it yourself.’
- Want some honey in your tea?
“Faiive spoooms pleath!”
And there went the honey. Only this time no one shouted, no one threatened, no one cried. How easy it could be to not pass toxic behaviors and healing oneself.
- I love you.
“Laaw you too!”
What a tangled mess of curls they made being wrapped up in a hug that could have last a lifetime.
What time was it? Lost track of it.
“It’s time for biskitts!”
‘It always is. Let’s go find all sweets and candies around this place. Might not be here tomorrow anyway.’
“But me I want to stay.”
- Please stay with me. I want you to never leave my side.
“Am I don’t wont to leaf.”
What a re-leaf. Sorry little one. Couldn’t keep it to myself.
“I laik whem you laugh!”
Us too, little one, us too.
———————————
1st note: Sorrynotsorry.
2nd note: You might have guessed two wise men inspired me some way while writing this.
3rd note: If not, it were Dumbledore and Eminem. So if you ever considered my texts subliminal, keep in mind who I got it from and be glad it didn’t turn out worse :’).
4th note: Might be a little bit sorry anyway.

+++TW: Waste of time, procrastination, not much help+++
Another one of those barnyard things? Is this for fetishes who like shooting holes in barns and reminiscing about "the good old days"? Back when people thought the speed of the train (at 25 km/h) wouldn't be sustainable for any heart?
I can't make sense of oud, but I should mention that I'm simply not interested - I only put up my umbrella when someone wants to enlighten the ignorant, including myself.
This bro was right at eye level and just had to be tested because: tree. I wanted to bathe anyway.
So here comes the cluelessness of cluelessness in an attempt to convey knowledge.

Anyone who knows Shaghaf Oud might even understand the following comparison. All others better save their time and perhaps read the teletext on TV - if it still exists.

Here on Parfumo, wonders are written about and talents discovered, compositions analyzed, the origin of rose petals sniffed out to the exact latitude, dictionaries full of neologisms presented, research is done, bickering occurs, advice is given.
Grande Amore to all of you-le-le!
And now... I would also like to flex a bit.
I, Tshajbukoshka, that's my name by the way, can smell consistencies and colors, far removed from the BtMG.

And this is how Extreme Oud smells - extremely strong, as the name suggests - with patchouli, yes, very clearly and certainly, which I don't particularly like on myself, especially not in doses > globules.
It comes off a bit too harsh-herb-smoky, but also, especially at the beginning, too sour-herb and too clear-liquid before it settles, eases up, and plays the Nice Guy.
Huh? What, "clear-LIQUID"?!
Here we come to the consistency and the department store oud: Shaghaf Oud, my show-off bro with the heavy-hitting stick, which smells foggy and solid, doesn't emit any liquid, but rather something Versace-like golden between liquid and solid. You see, I have the parfumoesque talent to invent new states of matter.
Extreme Oud is, in my perception, a clear liquid, color: dark brown-black-gray, one that smells too strongly of something like wood, but rotten wood, unfriendly.
Apparently, wood can also be unfriendly. Okaaaay.
For whatever reason, mosquito repellent spray comes to mind in comparison.
I prefer foggy perfumes, gentle ones. Those that spray or radiate like Cuir Béluga and other Guerlains or Shaghaf Oud - even if the latter is as far from 'gentle' as I am from the Nobel Prize.
Let's get to the good part: The drydown becomes a bit more restrained, calmer, and even somewhat gentler, almost alluring. The sillage, which initially hits you like a tidal wave in a fist shape, fortunately eases up a bit after one to two hours. Oud Extreme remains perceptible even after a shower or until the next morning.
Opinions from those around me were divided. Someone threw out "world shop," "attractive, but not you" raised more questions than it answered, but this review probably did the same.

“Neighbor's vanilla cookies, unknowingly taken, you will spread your charm!”
- I would have thought there’s tonka bean in here!
T: Everyone is helped if you leave the thinking to me. You useless coward, how much longer will it take? I’ve been waiting for seven hours with this PAIN IN THE NECK and see no change!
- Pain in the neck? I’m sweet. What have I done to you? Just because it’s summer? I am the chosen one, an Iiiimmergeh[..,]
“Just a moment, my master, almost done! Cookie dough from the fridge, willingly seasoned! You will […]”
- But where does this almond-vanilla sweetness with a spicy-bitter touch come from, hmm?!
T: Should I find out for you? Legili…
- No, that’s alright! I’ll just read the pyramid.
T: Your nose seems to be less refined than you thought it would be.
- At least I have ei…
T: Avada Kedavra! Nuuun, the motto of this brand is “Gourmandise is no longer a wicked sin.” I would call it redundant. After all, I exist.
- And Bertie Bott's beans in all flavors! I think it’s some kind of citrus fruit!
T: You can’t talk, you’re DEAD!
- Oops! Totally forgot to mention that. There was this guy who accidentally resurrected at Christmas, just in time for the year’s first ‘Christmas baking’ on the radio. Or was it Lars Krissmäs?
…
Doooooong!
The next spray.
“Ladies and gentlemen, here is the first German news broadcast, today featuring a report on the chosen one and the one whose half arm he ate after being doused with a single spray from a mysterious white bottle.”
- Five points deducted for Hufflepuff, because so much stuff comes out of this thing!
“Yeah. Well. Who would…? No. One point deduction should suffice here. Stay tuned! This news is brought to you by Bertie Bott's beans in all flavors!”
- Aren’t they called Jelly Bellys?
…
+++To be continued+++Continuation follows+++or not+++

Hello darkness, my old friend!
I sit here, trapped in my sorrow,
the walls are closing in
and I feel ensnared, shrouded,
but I know one thing:
It will be hard to replace me,
I was here all day today, tomorrow I will be gone.
Am I then somewhere else? Am I then no more?
Maybe you would like to walk a thousand miles in my shoes, just to see what it’s like to be me.
After that, you can judge me.
I will be you, let’s swap shoes, just to see what it would be like to feel your pain.
And you feel mine.
Take my thoughts.
See the world through my eyes.
After that, let no one tell you,
you are not beautiful.
Let them all go to hell.
Always stay true to yourself.
I will do so many things wrong, constantly, just because I have never seen how to do it right.
Because I have no idea how I could prevent that.
- And so she ran laughing into the circular saw and embraced the darkness, her old friend.
It tickled in her nose, tingled on her skin. That must have been adrenaline. And she knew only one thing: She would never get enough of it. Not today and certainly not tomorrow.
She threw on her jacket, shook out her hair, ran her fingers through it and raised her walls.
Pop. She chewed. Once. Twice. Pop. She opened her mouth wide. Smacked aggressively. Provocatively. As if she were screaming for someone to shout “close your mouth while chewing.” Even if she didn’t, someone would do it anyway. And she didn’t care. After all, she wasn’t just here to munch on sweet grass.
People should see that she was not to be messed with today.
Let them all keep their distance and go to hell.
She felt comfortable in the darkness of this autumn night.

-----
-> Today inspired by: Eminem - Darkness (2020), also released on the new album 'Curtain Call 2'.
--> unpaid product placement end

Enemies of meta-descriptions, beware! (Or just wander directly to the next section.)
Salem: Or disappear! Because Tshajbukoshka is doing again what she does far too often.
Salem makes a pathetic attempt to cover his ears with his fluffy paws. After this endeavor fails due to its ineffectiveness, he turns back to Tshajbukoshka.
Salem: Wouldn't you like to turn the volume up a bit more so that you can be heard in every corner of the alley named after it? Why are the unforgivable curses so...
Tshajbukoshka, laughing cheerfully: Unforgivable? Forbidden? Not designed to work for cats?
With these words, she turns around with a mischievous grin. Sour makes funny! She throws a pinch of cinnamon in Salem's face. He doesn't flinch. Then it dawns on her like dragon scales falling from her eyes.
Tshajbukoshka: Oh. I didn't plug in the headphones. I just wanted to play for myself.
Salem: I must have misheard. PLAY? With what? With my sense of hearing? Sense of smell? Or rather with my LIFE and that of the entire neighborhood?! EVERYONE within a radius... of twenty meters should have heard this.
Tshajbukoshka hands him a bouquet of lily of the valley that she had actually picked for someone else: Here, look. Now get a grip! Please.
Salem raises his implied fluffy eyebrows: Exactly. Cinnamon and artificial flowers. How romantically they go together, I want to make a soup out of it - and accidentally shove you onto the hot stove, considering Merlin's probably distant masculinity. What has gotten into you? Do you mean that seriously?! After all this time?
Tshajbukoshka: Always.
Even as she says this, she plugs the jack of the cable into the designated socket and wiggles her fingers, stretching them, only to place them back on the piano. The brilliantly white, whiter than skin, and the silvery shimmering hairline of the gentleman in black-green, who appears before her inner eye and simultaneously evokes both sorrow and joy in her, a feeling of gratitude that she should have gotten used to over the last few years. And yet she never did. She closes her eyes and continues to play.
Should all of this be true or is it only happening in her head?
Salem: Of course, it's only happening in your head, Tshajbu. But why should that mean it isn't real?
As the silky black cat contorts his face in exaggerated pain, he jumps from the white and black keys and into his beloved darkness, which he is all too happy to be engulfed by.
Tshajbukoshka feels the emerging darkness, feels it above her. A few tears silently wander down her face, she does not wipe them away. Because to play the melody, she doesn't need her eyes, she needs her ears - and her heart.
Suddenly, many small lights appear, small but so numerous that they dispel the dark mark above her head.
And with each gentle press on the keys, each tone of the ensemble, a bit of happiness returns there, like a Christmas dessert effortlessly still finding its way into a stomach that should actually be full by now.
-------------------------------
How should I summarize it, how should I express it?
Salem hates the gentleman here. Perhaps out of jealousy.
Salem: Maybe I also hate the indecision, the confusion, the volume, the elegance of a digital piano that can never compete with the virtuosity of quality ingredients and smells worse than three months of plum pudding stored in a coat pocket compared to MY favorites.
Tshajbukoshka: Fool! Jiggly fat! Knickknacks! Squeak!
Salem: Yes, that's one way to put it. Please keep this here, in your so-called 'house,' my personal chamber of horrors. I can't think of a more fitting occasion for this.
Tshajbukoshka: plays on with a smile on her face for a long time, her discipline at least today unmatched.
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For reasons of convenience and readability, invisible quotation marks indicate that not all words and expressions used are my own.
Deeply connected thanks for the inspiration goes out to J.K. Rowling and the person who invented YouTube tutorials - especially this one today: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQnQCqyvo6Y