Blue Neighbourhood

This is my take on the poignant, yet powerful music video trilogy by Troye Sivan.

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"only fools fall for you, only fools. . ."

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1. Part ONE - WILD

PART ONE: WILD

Jason. 

   Distraction. 

   Most likely, there's some sort of negative connotation tied to the word 'distraction'. The first thing that might pop into someone's mind when hearing the word itself. Procrastination. Delinquency. Tragedy even. And they're not wrong. Distractions can result in unwanted consequences. However, I have a different experience with distractions. Distraction kept my sprouting insanity at bay. Distraction was my oblivion when the pain was just too real to ignore. Distraction did its best to stave off my self-hatred and averted my attention to something less destructive. 

   Distraction was not a Nintendo, or an iPod equipped with earbuds. Distraction had a name. Its name was Troye Sivan. 

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   At that time, it had been two years. Two years since Mum earned her wings and left my dad and me in the struggle against the current. On our own. A fighter, she always was, and she was adamant in the fact that she wouldn't ever walk out of our lives when we needed her most. But when you're in a war with stage IV breast cancer, no one can really have high hopes for a happy ending. Not to say that she lived every day in depression after the doctors broke the news to her. She acted as if she knew no cancer. Her eyes glistened with faith. She breathed hope. But eventually, she gave up her smile and bubbly personality while on her deathbed and told me she'd have to stop her 'naïve' way of thinking. She had to accept that she was going to go. She died in my arms as she kissed my forehead and I've never felt so enraged with the world. It took my mother away. My confidant. My comforter -- the world took her away from me. Away from me

   My father took it much worse. I remember so vividly a day after her passing away when he said goodbye to his sanity. He wasn't my father anymore. At least, he's not the father I used to know anymore. It was like the mask etched into his face, the man he once was,  was traded out for another man who cared about nothing more than forgetting. Escaping the memories. Getting away from the images of her ghosting in his mind. A harder battle awaited him each passing day. He got a lot meaner. Craved amnesia a little more. Deteriorated a little more. Long nights with vodka bottles became his best friend. Yes, his actions gave him unwanted consequences like losing his job. But he was determined that he wouldn't let the agonizing pain in his heart swallow him whole. 

   It's funny how my dad and I are the same, although I hate to admit it. We allowed anger to infiltrate our lives and almost destroy us. Instead of taking this grief process in stride as father and son, we embark on a wild goose chase for tranquility by ourselves. We did everything possible to fill the emptiness inside us, where Mum's vibrancy used to reign. We were obsessed, obsessed with wanting to forget. 

Then, an eight-year-old distraction named Troye Sivan stumbled into my life. 

[Hi guys! So I hope you liked my first chapter of Blue Neighbourhood! I wanted to give you a little insight on the other boy's life before he and Troy meet each other. I would love some feedback from you guys. I'll be posting the next chapter soon! For now, see ya on the flipside. :)]

 

 

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