1432 – Frank 12 | Read With Me | SWM+ Sneak Peek

Episode 1432 – Frank 12 | Read With Me | SWM+ Sneak Peek

SCOOTER: Friends beyond the binary, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s time for a tale. Not sure if you could say it’s gonna be tall, but it’ll probably be long and pointless and full of meanders. You say, my…you say, is it a tall tale? I say, more…it’s more like a swirly…one of those curly…what do they call them, swirly straws or curly straws? If they don't call them swirly straws, they really missed out. I would assume they do, because your drink swirls through them. My tall tales are swirly and whirly, and for some, they feel churly after listening. But it’s time for Sleep With Me. Hopefully you won't feel that way. Also, FY…or FMEI for my information…is churly a word? I mean, we’ve all…I’ve felt churlish many a times. Oh boy, even if it’s not a word, I hope it’s…I feel like there’s about…33% of the time I’ve got a churl going on. When they see me walking down the street, they say there’s a churl in that boy’s step. Anyway, it’s time for Sleep With Me, the podcast that puts you to sleep.

Intro: Hey, are you up all night tossing, turning, mind racing? Trouble getting to sleep? Trouble staying asleep? Well, welcome. This is Sleep With Me, the podcast that puts you to sleep. We do it with a bedtime story. Alls you need to do is get in bed, turn out the lights, and press Play. I'm gonna do the rest. What I'm going to attempt to do is create a safe place where you could set aside whatever’s keeping you awake. It could be thoughts, things on your mind from the past, the present, the future, plans, or…whatever it is. It could be thoughts, it could be feelings, emotions related to the thoughts or emotions that are just there, it could be physical sensations, it could be changes in your routine, your temperature, your time, whatever’s going on. There’s so many things that I’ve heard from listeners, and it all shares a lot of things. So, let me just go off-script here. The reason I make the show is because you deserve a good night's sleep, and ideally, if I can do anything for you, it’s to underline that fact, but also to help you feel less alone.

Even though this is digital and it’s a podcast, I'm here to keep you company, because if you can't get to sleep, at least you deserve to kinda feel like you have a friendly voice in the deep, dark night. So, now I got mixed up 'cause I normally don't go…I went off script. I don't have a actual script. Whatever’s keeping you awake, thoughts, feelings…whatever it is, I'm gonna try to take your mind off of that and keep you company. Oh, I guess it was just a different way of saying what I already say; keep you company while you drift off. That’s really what my job is, to be your bore-friend, your bore-bae, your bore-cuz, your bore-sib, your bore-bestie, your bore-bor, your neigh-bor…I got that mixed up. Some listeners said, hey, what about neigh-bore? I said, oh, bore-bor? They said, we knew that’s what you meant, Scoots. Thank you. Okay, but whatever’s keeping you awake, I’d like to take your mind off of that.

What I propose to do here is to create a safe place or a safe that feels approach…a safe…an approachable safe, one of the great…that wasn’t…that was…I tried to pitch that to…I said, what about the new…what about New Marple? How does that sound to you? They said, we don't have the rights to that. I said, The New Marple Mysteries? We could just use that…and they said, no you can't. I said, The Case of the Approachable Safe: A New Marple Mystery. They said, Scoots, one…wait a second…and they said, we…this…we never took this call. There’s no record…and then they said, the call is coming from inside your imagination once again, Scoots. A New Marple Mystery, The Case of the Approachable Safe. It was a early morning when the great safe store of wherever…where are we gonna be? In the Lakelands area. The main safe store for all regions nearby, where everybody got their safe, was having a big event called The Approachable Safe Event.

Oh sorry, I'm supposed to be creating…oh, so, I'm gonna try to create a safe place or an approachable place that you say, well, I kinda feel safe. I'm not so sure about it. That’s why…they said, step right in. Old…I don't know whoever runs the safe…the old…approach…The Case of the Approachable Safe. I guess we’ll do…that will be the title of tonight’s episode. Let’s just do that so I can move on, right? What was the other thing I got stuck on? That’s one of the things that happens in this. People say, what are you…? I say, yeah, I get…not only do I get mixed up; I get bogged down in my own thoughts. My thoughts are bog-like already. Then I say, there’s…these…there’s boggy thoughts in this here bog. Anyway, so, I'm gonna try to create a safe place where you could set aside whatever’s keeping you awake by sending my voice across the deep, dark night. I'm gonna use lulling, soothing, creaky, dulcet tones.

If there was…The Comforting Bog; another…that’s not…that’s where The New Marple Mysteries…she lives out on the end of a lane near the Comforting Bog. That’s what she calls it. That’s where she does her thinking. Now she’s known as Lady Marple, not Miss Marple, because she’s royalty or whatever, OBE. Or, I don't know how any of that works, but…so, you don't say old Lady Marple, because only Scoots says that. Then she says, no, Lady Marple. I say, yes, Miss Marple. I’ll call you Lady Marple until I forget. But when I'm using…when I'm narrating you thinking out on the…whatever, the Comforting Bog…is that what it was called? Okay, so, anyway, what are we talking about here? Send my voice…oh, creaky, dulcet tones, pointless meanders, superfluous tangents. You've witnessed all of those in just a few moments. In just eight short minutes of intro, I went way off topic and got mixed up, because I'm here to keep you company and put you to sleep, not entertain you or engage you or make any sense or get to the point or ever really get started.

So, if you're new, a couple things you might want to know. This podcast is very different. It’s very strange. So, if you feel a reaction to it, it does take some getting used to. Of course, you might be doubtful or skeptical when you get to this podcast, 'cause you probably tried a lot of other stuff to put you to sleep, right? Maybe not all of that worked. Maybe none of it worked. So, I'm here to try to keep you company while you fall asleep. So, this is a podcast you don't really listen to. You just kinda barely pay attention to it, but you can listen. So, it’s kind of a…it just takes getting used to doing that. It’s like looking at the clouds when you feel like it, I guess. I don't know. I don't know how to describe it, because the podcast doesn't even make any sense to me, 'cause my job’s not to make any sense. So, it’s a podcast you just barely listen to that’s here to keep you company. It also doesn't put you to sleep. It’s here while you fall asleep.

I'm here to take your mind off of stuff and be your friend, like I said, your companion so that it doesn't feel as lonely as it’s felt for some of us in the deep, dark night. The good news is if you can't sleep, I’ll be here for an hour to keep you company whether you're awake or asleep. So, if you're not listening to me, I'm here to keep you company. But if you are, I'm here to keep you company. So, no pressure to fall asleep. No pressure to listen. I make the show because I know how it feels and you deserve a good night's sleep. Our world will be a better place if you get the rest you need and you deserve, 'cause I want your life to be better. You deserve it. So, that’s why I make the show. Also, the…for new listeners…what up, regular listeners? How about that? We just invented…I guess I’ll say…I don't think Lady Marple…the New Lady Marple Mysteries is…'cause I’d say, no, no, it doesn't have anything to do with Miss Marple. This is Lady Marple, and it’s new.

When they approach me not with an offer…they say, this is not an offer to do business with you. I’d say, well…I’d say, you don't think that’s a good idea, The Case of the Approachable Safe? It’s a very approachable mystery. It never gets…here’s a spoiler; it never gets solved. So…oh, structure of the show throws people off. So, if you're new, I want you to know the structure of the show is very intentional, but I understand if it throws you off. It starts off with a greeting so you feel seen and welcome, then there’s listener support, like support for you, then there’s support for the show via Patreon and our sponsors, then there’s the intro which goes on and on and on. Some people think it’s part of the business or the housekeeping. It’s not. It’s a show within a show that gives you time to wind down. It’s familiar every time and it’s different every time, and it gives you a chance to get some distance from the daytime and get ready for bed.

So, whether it’s part of your bedtime routine and you're winding down or you're doing your…brushing your teeth or you're in bed, you're petting your pets, or you're doing some other chill activity, the intro…you could fall asleep to it. There is a percentage of listeners that fall asleep. There’s a percentage of listeners that skip the show. But the intentionality behind it is that it gives you a chance to wind down. So…but you can use…the great thing about the podcast is it’s flexible. People use it in all sorts of different ways. So, that’s the intro, then there’s business again. The business keeps the show free, coming out twice a week, which has always been my goal, to keep it free, not as part of some company. Then there’s a story. I thought it was gonna be one thing. Tonight I guess it’ll be some sort of investigation, at least, into whatever I just said. The Case of the Soothing Spa? I don't think it was that one. That one won't be solved, because I say, there’s no spa that could soothe me, unless I can walk around…unless it’s like a spa…a pacing-based spa.

A spa you could pace in, Scooter’s Spa. Come around, come on in, walk…don’t sit still. The spa where you don't sit still. Way off topic. So…oh, the…so, there’s a bedtime story. That you could fall asleep to, but other people listen to it for companionship in the deep, dark night or a break during the day, or if you just can't sleep. You got plenty of time. That’ll go on for like, forty, fifty minutes, an hour plus, then there’s thank-yous at the end of the show. So, that’s the structure of the show. That’s why I make the show. Alls I can say is I'm glad you're here. I work really hard. I yearn and I strive. Give the show a couple tries and see if it helps. If not, there’s other sleep podcasts and stuff at sleepwithmepodcast.com/nothankyou. But I'm happy you're here and I really hope I can help you fall asleep. Thanks again for coming by, and here’s a couple of ways I'm able to be here for you for free twice a week.

Friends beyond the binary, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this is the second time you get to hear me say that welcome, because this episode is constructed from a intro from the past and our read-with-me episodes here. It’s a Frankie and Victor episode with our friend Frank and his…so, I'm reading from the book Victor and Frankie, also known as a famous Mary Shelley novel. This is a little bit different than episodes we’ve done with Sleep With Me, but we tested this out on Sleep With Me+. It was so popular we wanted to bring it to everyone. So, it’s me reading through a book, also paraphrasing, making stuff sleepy. But it’s not perfectly sleepy. I mean, just like everything else we make, you know? It exists within this world, but it’s pretty chill. So, I hope you enjoy it, and without further ado, more of Victor and Frankie. Thanks, everybody.

Alright everybody, Chapter 22. The voyage came to an end. We landed and proceeded to Paris. I soon found that I had overtaxed my strength and that I must repose before I could continue my journey. My father’s care and attentions were indifiguable…indefeatable? Indigfigable? Indefatigable? Infatible. Were almost…I mean, not quite perfect, but pretty good. But he did not know the origins of my suffering, and sought erroneous methods to remedy the incurable woe. I mean, like I said, dad, can't you see? You don't get it, man. Even when I was telling him to move my pillows, he did it wrong. He wished me to seek amusement in society, but I loathed being…I said, no, no, no, I want to be on my own, except I want you here all the…I mean, bring me amusements. When I say ‘loathed’, I realize people in the world were my fellow beings and the world was a place I existed in, and I totally loved every person for each and every one, even the ones I didn't like.

I figured them beings of an angelic nature in a celestial mechanism. But I felt I had no right to share in the glee…I was so unique, so much more resilient, much more visionary. I couldn't share in their normality. None among them had created a leaf-based being who was still walking about and whose joy it was at this point…you know who had to turn down that being, and the being said he’d probably take it out on other people, not on me, and revel in their frowny faces. Then they would…I mean, I guess I'm being honest; they would find out and then they would say, that Victor, this is all his fault. Maybe he felt…and they said, by the way, the earth…we're sending you off, kinda like Napoleon, which doesn't…my dates may be off. Of course they are, but…they weren't gonna send me to a tiny island. They were gonna…say, you know. But they were gonna allow me to be around, but just not welcome anywhere, and they would say, yeah, it’s all your fault, Victor.

Now, my father yielded at length to my desire to avoid society and strove by various arguments to banish my despair. Sometimes he thought it was the whole thing at that town of them telling me I did something I didn't do, and he endeavored to prove to me the futility of pride. Alas, my father, I said, how little do you know me? Human beings, their feelings, their passions, would indeed be degraded if such a wretch as I felt pride. Justine, poor, unhappy Justine, was innocent, as innocent as I, and she almost had an equal…but not quite even equal…but she did have some courage similar to mine, and maybe I could have spoke on her…but she…it wasn't fair for her, either. In fact, since I never spoke up, it was kinda my fault, and then William, Justine, Henry, father, all roads lead back to me in some sense. My father often, back in Ireland, had heard me make the same assertion, blaming myself, and sometimes he desired an explanation.

At others he appeared to consider it as the offspring of my delirium, and that during my unwell times, some idea of this kind had presented itself to my imagination, the remembrance of which I preserved in my convalescence. I avoided explain…I mean, he wouldn't get it, and maintained a continual silence concerning the leaf-based being. I had a persuasion that I should…people would think, this Victor, he really has…he really thinks he is the greatest being on all of Earth, and that it was all in my imagination. Then they wouldn't believe me when I tried to tell them it was time to believe me. But besides, I could not bring myself to disclose the secret which would fill my hearer, in this case my papa, with consternation, and within his heart realize that any pile of compost or leaves could be sentient. I checked, therefore, my impatient thirst for sympathy, and was silent when I would have given the world to have confided in him.

If only he knew that I had defied all previous scientists and that…then he would understand, but I had to keep it quiet. As much as I tried, words like those that I have recorded would burst uncontrollably from me. Luckily they were hidden in words, confusion. I could offer no explanation of them. But their part, in truth, the truth within them relieved the burden of my mysterious woe. That’s W-O-E. Not Joey Lawrence’s whoa. Upon this occasion, my father said, with an expression of unbounded wonder, my dearest Victor, what infatuation is this, my dear son? I entreat you never make such an assertion again. Father, you don't get it, man. I'm perfectly clear-headed, man, I said energetically. The sun in the heavens have viewed my operations with great interest, I might add…can bear witness of my truth. My brilliance changed the trajectory of all of them…for all of them. They changed realms because of my machinations.

A thousand times I would have shed my own tears, tear by tear, in exchange for their tears, but I could not, my dear father, and indeed I couldn't…I had to have courage in the face of compost. I know that’s confusing to say. The conclusion of this speech convinced my father that my ideas…what is this kid talking about compost for? Any time I brought that up, he instantly changed the subject of our conversation and endeavored to alter the course of my thoughts. He wished as much as possible to obliterate the memory of the scenes that had taken place in Ireland, and never alluded them or suffered me to speak of my misfortunes. As time passed away, I became more calm. Misery had her dwelling in my heart, but I no longer talked in the same incoherent manner of my past. Sufficient for me was the consciousness of them.

But the utmost…by the utmost discipline, I curbed the imperious voice of my wretchedness, which some…sometimes I had to declare…I felt like I should declare it to the whole world, my brilliant and my…I'm the worst of the worst and the best of the best, man. But yeah, because I didn't, my manners were calmer and more composed than they had ever been since my journey to the sea of ice. A few days before we left Paris, on our way to Switzerland, I received the following letter from Elizabeth. My dear friend, it gave me the greatest pleasure to receive a letter from my uncle dated at Paris. You are no longer at a formidable distance, and I may hope to see you in less than a fortnight. My poor cousin, how much you must have suffered. I expect to see you looking even more…like I remember in Geneva.

This winter has passed most miserably, and I’ve been thinking a lot about it with anxious suspense, yet I hope to see peace in your countenance and find that your heart is not totally void of comfort and tranquility, yet I fear the same feelings now exist that made you so miserable a year ago, even perhaps augmented by time. I would not disturb you at this period when so many misfortunes weigh upon you. But a conversation that I had with my uncle previous to his departure renders some explanation necessary before we meet. Explanation? you may possibly say. What can Elizabeth have to explain? If you really say this, my questions are answered and all my doubts satisfied. But you are distant from me, and it is possible that you may dread and yet be pleased by this explanation. In a probability of this being the case, I dare not any longer postpone writing what during your absence I have often wished to express to you but have never had the courage to begin.

You know very well, dear Victor, that our union had been the favorite plan of your parents ever since our infancy. We were told this when young and taught to look forward to it as an event that would certainly take place. We were affectionate playfellows during childhood and I believe dear and valued friends to one another as we grew older. But as brother and sister often entertain a lively affection towards each other without desiring a more intimate union, may not such also be our case? Tell me, dearest Victor. Answer me. I conjure you by our mutual happiness with a simple truth; do you not love another? You have travelled. You have spent several years of your life at Ingolstadt, and I confess to you, my friend, that when I saw you last autumn so unhappy, flying to solitude from society of every creature, I could not help supposing that you might regret our connection and believe yourself bound in honor to fulfill the wishes of your parents, although they are opposed themselves to your inclinations.

But this is false reasoning. I confess to you, my friend, that I love you, and in my airy dreams of futurity, you have been the constant friend and companion. But it is your happiness that I desire as well as my own when I declare to you that our marriage would render me eternally miserable unless it was the dictate of your own free choice. Even now, I weep to think that borne down as you are by the cruellest misfortunes, you may stifle by the word ‘honor’. All hope of that love and happiness which would alone restore you to yourself, I, who have so disinterested an affection for you, may increase your miseries tenfold by being an obstacle to your wishes. Ah, Victor, be assured that your cousin and playmate has too sincere a love for you not to be made miserable by this supposition. Be happy, my friend. If you obey me in this one request, remain satisfied that nothing on earth will have the power to interrupt my tranquility. Do not let this letter disturb you.

Do not answer tomorrow or the next day or even until you come if it will give you pain. My uncle will send me news of your health, and if I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness. Elizabeth. The letter revived in my memory what I had before forgotten. What the fiend had said, that darned composter; I will be with you on your wedding night. Such was his promise, that he would employ every art to leafify my wedding, maybe even cover a glimpse of Elizabeth from my face by covering me in leaves, smelling up our wedding with rotten leaves, even rotten fruit or vegetables. The entire happiness of our wedding party ruined. I had glimpses of this in my mind, and…you know, at times, then he probably wants to consummate it by saying, and you, too, shall Victor be compost, or hang with the leaves. Was it not Luca Brasi, somebody that slept with the leafies? Well, be it so, but I'm not gonna lay down.

If there’s anything proven, it’s the strength of my character, and be it so, I would stand up for myself and like I’ve stood up for all the other people in my life, so clearly I would be victorious. I should be at peace and his power over me would be at an end if he stood face-to-face with me. I would vanquish him and I would be a free man. But alas, what freedom such as no others? I mean, what about the…when I'm adrift, alone but free, such would be my liberty, except that my Elizabeth, my treasure, balanced by all this stuff in my head that I'm thinking about, he would still be there, the compost of my mind. Sweet and beloved Elizabeth. I read and reread her letter. Sometimes softened feelings stole into my heart and dared to whisper dreams of love and joy, but the apple was already eaten. It was already in the compost pile. The angel’s arm barred to drive me from all hope. But I would do whatever it took to make Elizabeth happy, because I still had to deal with this leaf-based being.

I considered whether marrying her was a good idea. Secretly, maybe I knew I loved another much more than her. Who could that be? It’s somebody I see in the mirror, you know. I mean, but I needed to make…but the person I saw in the mirror was clearly heroic, right? My standing up might arrive sooner than my wedding, but I couldn't postpone my wedding because of him, either, because he would figure something…he’s too smart, because I created him, obviously. He has some of my smarts. He had avowed to be with me on my wedding night, yet he did not consider that as binding him. There would be peace for the meantime if my calculations were correct, for as if to show me that he wasn't satiated yet…I mean, there was Clerval, and my father was a pale Clerval as far as doing stuff to cheer me up. So, thinking about it, I resolved therefore, if my immediate union with my cousin would conduce either to hers or my father’s happiness and deal with my compost friend’s designs against me, would it slow things down or speed them up?

In this state of mind, I wrote to Elizabeth. My letter was calm and affectionate. I fear, my beloved girl, I said, little happiness remains for us. Yet all that I may one day enjoy is centered in you. Chase away your idle fears. To you alone I consecrate my life and my endeavors for contentment. I have one secret, Elizabeth, a very organic one. When revealed to you it will chill your frame, and then, far from being surprised at my frowny faces, you will only wonder at the vastness of my resilience and my overcoming so many obstacles, enduring so much more than any on Earth ever had. I will confide this tale of misery and frowny faces and woe to you the day after our marriage. That shall take place, for, my sweet cousin, there must be perfect confidence between you and I. But until then, I conjure you, do not mention or allude to it. This I most earnestly entreat, and I know you will comply. In about a week after the arrival of Elizabeth’s letter, we returned to Geneva.

The sweet girl welcomed me with a warm affection, yet tears were in her eyes as she beheld my…I don't know, my face? I don't know if I was looking peaked or what. I saw a change in her, also. She looked down and not the same, and I hadn't realized so much time had passed. There was something missing, that heavenly vivacity that had before charmed me. But her gentleness and soft looks of compassion made her a more fit companion for one as blasted and as miserable as I was. To think, man, the grass is always greener, right? This is not the Elizabeth of my mind. Was her resilience even…could I transfer some of mine to her? But I had some…the tranquility I had thinking about Elizabeth’s shortcomings did not endure, 'cause memories came, and that brought all…everything. When I thought of what had passed, everything that had happened, everything, again, that I had…I didn't overcome it yet.

Sometimes I got irritable, maybe even a bit furious, sometimes low and despondent, and neither spoke nor looked at anyone, but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries that overcame me. Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me from these fits. Her gentle voice would soothe me, teleported by passion, and inspire me with human feelings when sunk in torpor. She wept with me and for me. When reason returned, she would remonstrate and endeavor to inspire me with resignation. Ah, it is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace. The agonies of remorse make…go sour the luxury…there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief. Soon after my arrival, my father spoke of my immediate marriage with Elizabeth. I remained silent. Have you then some other attachment? No, father, none on Earth. I love Elizabeth and look forward to our union with delight. The groove, father, is truly in my heart.

Let the day, therefore be fixed, and on it I will consecrate myself to the happiness of my cousin. My dear Victor, do not speak thus. Heavy misfortunes have befallen us, but let us only cling closer to what remains and transfer our love for those whom we have lost to those who have yet live. Our circle will be small but bound close by the ties of affection and mutual misfortune. When time shall have softened your despair, new and dear objects of care will be born to replace those of whom we have so been deprived. Such were the lessons of my father, but to me the remembrance of the leaf-based being returned. No? Can you won…? Of course you're gonna wonder that…this was a omnipotent being I had made, right? And he was coming to talk to me about composting and how I didn't make him a partner, and he did pronounce with the words, I shall be with you on your wedding night. I didn't realize; maybe that was like a leaf on my shoulder saying, you know, softly kiss, dear Victor, kiss softly.

But I regarded it as a guarantee that was unavoidable. But I just…as long as I had Elizabeth, that would balance it back out. I, therefore, with a content and even cheerful countenance, agreed with my father that if my cousin would consent, the ceremony should take place in ten days, and thus put, I imagined, a seal to my fate. Great goodness, if I had for one instant thought was might be the intention of my leaf-based being, I would have rather headed out of town forever and wandered a friend…as a friendless outcast over the earth. Huh, who does that remind me of, wandering like a friendless outcast among the earth? I mean, what does that leaf-based being think, trying to put me in that situation? I mean, who would consent to that…such a thing? But as if possessed by magic powers — I didn't see the whole picture — somehow the compost covered up my eyes. I mean my greater eyes. Somehow the dampness of leaves dampened my brilliance to the real intentions.

When I thought that I had prepared only for me…'cause I said, me is the one who the leaf-based being is gonna mess with. I said, as long as I protect myself and my stuff…I did not realize he would be up to other things. As the period fixed for our marriage grew nearer, whether from cowardness or a prophetic feeling or putting it off…like, you'd think if this was a TV show or a film, I would have started building things with my brilliance; surprises, rakes for leaf…maybe even invented a blower or a vacuum for compost, maybe something the compost would stick to made of…I could have done a lot of work to get ready. But my heart sunk within me and I concealed my feelings by appearance of hilarity. Oh, ho, ho. That brought joy and smile and…to my…countenance of my father. I did some rolls and I laughed hysterically in-between avoiding getting anything done. But I did not deceive the watchful eye of Elizabeth.

I mean, she did look forward to our union with placid contentment, but not unmingled with the idea that something else was going on, which I guess her history with me and our past had impressed upon her, and that what now appeared certain and tangible happiness might soon dissipate into an airy dream and leave no trace but a deep and everlasting regret. Is that what she really thought of me, that I was somebody that caused that kind of stuff? But preparations were made for the event. Of course, everybody wanted to stop by. Congratulatory visits were received, and all wore a smiling appearance. Now, by the way, I didn't want to be a part of any of this, so I shut up as well as I could in my own heart my feelings, and entered with a seeming earnestness into the plans of my father, although they would only serve as the decorations of my frowns. A lot of work, man. I said, father, you doing all the work is making me feel tired.

Through my father’s exertions, a part of the inheritance of Elizabeth had been restored to her by the Austrian government. A small possession on the shores of Como belong to her. It was agreed that immediately after our union we should proceed to the Villa Lavenza and spend the first days of our happiness beside the beautiful lake on which it stood. Now, in the meantime, I wasn't coming up with plans to deal with the leaf-based being for everybody. I was working on a couple things for myself, like pockets full of giant garbage bags, or our version of those, which would have been burlap sacks back then, a small rake, even a thing to grind up coffee. Grinding up leaves I thought would work, too. I kept…I wore all these on me, a bit like a tinker, I guess, I presented myself. But I was always on watch. I said, what…? Is that…? It sounds a leaf…was that a leaf? What was that, the sound of plopping into compost? By these means I gained a greater degree of tranquility, though, 'cause I was always ready.

Indeed, as the period approached, I thought maybe this is all…again…eh, I’ll just over-blow this whole thing. This isn't…this compost being isn't regarded as worthy to disturb my peace. While the happiness I had hoped for in my marriage wore a greater appearance of certainty as the day fixed for its solemnization drew nearer and I heard it continually spoken of as an occurrence which would…was gonna happen no matter what, the date was set, the date was saved, and the date was planned. Elizabeth seemed happy. My tranquil demeanor contributed greatly to calm her down. But on the day that was to fulfill my wishes for my destiny, she was melancholy, and a presentiment of a frown pervaded her, and perhaps also she thought of the secret I had promised to reveal to her following the day of our wedding. I mean, I knew she must be overjoyed at marrying me, but…so, it had to be something else. It couldn't be…I mean, all the feelings she could feel must have been limitless joy.

My father, obviously he knew how to be joyful for me, so he was over…I mean, I said, he’s too much joy, man. Elizabeth; not enough joy. My father; too much joy on my wedding day. Then he was doing all this bustle and presentation and getting ready. He barely recognized the melancholy of his niece. He just thought it was…yeah, he said it’s…don't worry, Vic. It’s so much joy about marrying you that she’s over…tired from joy. It’s called joy tiredness. It’s kinda like being overjoyed, but then you need to nap. So, I don't want to get into the details and bore you, how fancy it was, how legendary it was. But after the ceremony was performed, a large party assembled at my father’s. But it was agreed that Elizabeth and I should commence our journey by water, sleeping that night at Evian and continuing on our voyage the previous…the next day, the following day. The wedding…whatever. But that day was fair. The wind was favorable, and all smiled on our nuptial embarkation.

Those were the last moments of my life which I enjoyed the feeling of happiness. We passed rapidly along. The sun was hot, but we were sheltered from its rays by a kind of canopy while we enjoyed the beauty of the scene, sometimes on one side of the lake, where we saw Mont Saleve, and the pleasant banks of Montalegre, and at the distance surmounting all, the beautiful Mont Blanc and the assemblage of snowy mountains that in vain endeavored to emulate her. Sometimes coasting the opposite banks, we saw the mighty Jura opposing its dark side to the ambition that would acquit its native country in an almost insurmountable barrier to anybody that wished to come to…you know, without permission. I took the hand of Elizabeth and I said, you're sorrowful, my love. Oh, if you only knew how sorrowful…everything I had been through, you wouldn't be…you'd put on a happy face for me.

All that I’ve endured, Elizabeth…you would endeavor to let me taste the quiet freedom from despair this one day. Today is the one day I can enjoy, and you're kinda…what the heck? Be happy, my dear Victor, replied Elizabeth. There is, I hope, nothing to distress you. Be assured that if a lively joy is not painted in my face, my heart is contented. Something whispers to me not to depend too much on the prospect that has opened before us, but I will not listen to such a voice. Observe how fast we move along and how the clouds, which sometimes obscure and sometimes arise above the dome of Mont Blanc, render this scene a beauty still more interesting. Look also at the innumerable fish that are swimming in the clear waters, where we can distinguish every pebble that lies at the bottom. What a divine day. How happy and serene all nature appears. Thus, Elizabeth endeavored to divert her thoughts and mind from all reflection upon melancholy subjects. Finally, I said to myself.

But the thing was, it was not true. Her temper was fluctuating; joy for a few instants shown in her eyes, but it continually gave place to distraction and reverie. I said, this is my wedding day. Can't you be here now with me? Even though I'm not here now with you, your job is to be here now with me to make it peaceful for me. Oh, Elizabeth, come on. The sun sank lower in the heavens, and we passed the river Drance and observed its path through the chasms of higher and the glens of the lower hills. The alps here come closer to the lake, and we approach the amphitheatre of mountains which forms its western boundary. The spire of Evian shown under the woods and its…the woods that surrounded it and the range of the mountain above mountain by which it was overhung.

The wind which had hitherto carried us along with amazing rapidity sank its sunset to a light breeze. The soft air ruffled the water and caused a pleasant motion among the trees as we approached the shore, from which it wafted the most delightful scent of flowers and hay. The sun sank beneath the horizon as we landed, and as we touched the shore, I felt my cares and my thoughts revive, which soon were to clasp me and cling to me forever like wet leaves. Oh boy, huh. But so, I knew we needed a break. So, I said, Elizabeth, can't you get this boat going any faster? She said, of course, dear Victor, I shall. But it was a nice view, and I took a nap for a time, 'cause I was so tuckered out from think…trying to be in a good mood. So, I’ll be back soon after my nap to tell you more. Goodnight. 

[End of recording]

Transcription performed by LeahTranscribes

Read With Me

Miss Marple

https://www.novelsuspects.com/articles/miss-marple-and-the-women-of-cozy-mysteries/

https://anglotopia.net/british-entertainment/brit-tv/brit-tv-and-film-a-history-of-miss-marple-in-cinema-and-british-television-which-marple-is-your-favorite/

https://www.all-about-agatha-christie.com/10-things-you-should-know-about-miss-marple.html

Joey Lawrence – “Whoa”

http://www.athleisuremag.com/the-latest/2024/4/16/woah-joey-lawrence

https://screenrant.com/blossom-show-joey-lawrence-whoa-catchphrase-keanu-impression/

https://www.suburbanlifemagazine.com/article/189/Joey-Lawrence

Luca Brasi / The Godfather

https://nofilmschool.com/luca-brasi

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/347742537_Luca_Brasi_Sleeps_with_the_Fishes_The_Gastromythology_of_The_Godfather_Trilogy

https://thephantomdentist.wordpress.com/2015/09/14/killing-luca-brasi-visual-foreshadowing-in-the-godfather/

Tinker

https://gr.ign.com/gallery/83035/the-tinkerers-long-history-as-a-spider-man-villain

https://www.americanscientist.org/article/the-tinkerers

https://invention.si.edu/invention-stories/re-discovering-lost-art-tinkering

Evian

https://beverageuniverse.com/blog/post/the-history-of-evian-water.html?srsltid=AfmBOopWhJpHCBB5WOcCCT37c4CepIvHuvbHtwAJy56Ea-Zu2g5d_epz

https://www.forbes.com/sites/ronaldholden/2017/09/18/water-water-evian-water-everywhere-and-every-drop-to-drink/

https://www.globaltimes.cn/content/962496.shtml

Teaser: 

Not sure if this tale is gonna be tall

If they don’t call curly straws Swirly Straws, they really missed out

Plugs: Sleep With Me Plus; SleepPhones; Story Only Feed; Emily Tat Artwork; Crisis Textline

Sponsors: Helix Sleep; Zocdoc; Progressive; Coyuchi

Intro: 

• Whatever is going on
• Let me just go off script here
• I don’t have an actual script
• I got neigh-bore and bore-bor mixed up
• An Approachable Safe
• The New Marple Mysteries
• The Case of the Approachable Safe
• My thoughts are bog-like already
• The Comforting Bog
• Lady Marple now
• Like looking at the clouds when you feel like it
• This has nothing to do with Miss Marple
• This is Lady Marpbel now
• Spoiler: the case never gets solved
• The Case of the Soothing Spa
• No spa could soothe me
• The Spa Where You Don’t Sit Still

Story:

• Chapter 22
• We proceeded to Paris
• I overtaxed myself and needed to rest
• My father was still trying to solve my incurable woe
• He wanted me to seek amusement
• I just want to be alone
• I like people, but I’m so unique that I can’t be with anyone
• Sharing in Normality
• I fear people will send me off, metaphorically, like Napoleon
• My father tries to banish my despair
• The futility of pride
• I try to explain why everything is my fault while not explaining why everything is my fault
• My impatient thirst for sympathy
• If only my father would know how great I was but I can’t say it
• My brilliance has changed the trajectory of all the people I love
• Courage in the face of Compost
• My father is always confused by my compost talk
• I became calmer as time passed, but misery still dwelled in my heart
• Curbing the imperious voices of my wretchedness
• I get a letter from Elizabeth
• She sees how much I’ve suffered
• Elizabeth has to express some stuff to me
• A wedding has always been planned between us
• Are we more siblings or lovers?
• She assumes I love another
• I have been apart from her for so long
• She fears I’ll regret our connection
• Elizabeth does love me
• She’ll be miserable unless I want to get married
• My wish, not just my father’s wish
• If I’m happy, then she’ll be happy
• Then I remember the LBB’s promise
• “I will be with you on your wedding night”
• He’s gonna compostify my wedding!
• Didn’t Luca Brasi sleep with the leafies?
• Oh boy, let me get my hands on him
• I yearn to face him and then be free
• The compost of my mind
• Sweet, lovely Elizabeth
• But the apple has already been eaten
• I want to be happy but I have to deal with this LBB thing
• I do love someone more than Elizabeth (when I look in the mirror)
• Of course, I’m so smart, so the LBB is naturally smart, too
• LBB isn’t satiated yet
• My father is no Clerval when it comes to cheering me up
• I write a calm, affectionate letter to Elizabeth
• All my happiness remains in Elizabeth
• I will reveal my “organic” secret the morning after our wedding night
• And she’ll realize how amazing and resilient I’ve been
• We returned to Geneva a week later
• She has tears in her eyes when she sees me
• So much time has passed 
• This was not the Elizabeth of my mind
• Sometimes I just got despondent, thinking of all my miseries
• Elizabeth alone could draw me out of my misery
• She wept with me and for me
• For the guilty, there is no peace
• I remain silent when thinking of marriage
• But I do go forward with it
• Let us cling closer together in our misfortune
• New, dear objects of care will be born to replace those of which we have been deprived
• But what about the omnipotent being that will come for me?
• A leaf on my shoulder still lingers
• The ceremony will take place in 10 days
• Somehow compost covered up my greater eyes
• I didn’t realize his intentions wouldn’t necessarily have to do with me
• If this was a TV show, I’d now be using my brilliance to build anti-compost devices
• My heart sunk within me
• I concealed my feelings with an appearance of hilarity
• I couldn’t deceive the watchful eye of Elizabeth
• She senses something else is going on
• I get tired just thinking of all the work my dad is doing to prep for my wedding
• Some of Elizabeth’s wealth has been restored by the Austrian government
• We’re gonna spend on our wedding night on a villa on Lake Como
• Pockets full of giant garbage bags
• A small rake
• A “leaf” grinder
• I kept these on myself to defend myself
• I heard the sounds of compost everywhere
• I was always ready so felt some relief and tranquility
• The wedding draws near
• The Date Was Saved and Planned
• My tranquil demeanor calmed Elizabeth down
• On our wedding day, Elizabeth seems so down
• My father has too much joy, Elizabeth has too little
• He doesn’t recognize the melancholy of Elizabeth
• It’s called Joy Tiredness
• I won’t bore you with how legendary our wedding ceremony was
• We start off on our journey immediately
• Embarking on the lake to Evian
• That was the last moment I was happy
• No way Elizabeth is as sorrowful as me
• I try to cheer Elizabeth up (aka tell her not to be sad)
• Come on, Elizabeth, make this day peaceful for me
• Traveling across the lake to Evian
• It’s very pleasant as we approach the shore
• Then I remember our situation
• I take a nap before what comes next…

Summary:

Episode: 1432

Title: Frank 12 | Read With Me | SWM+ Sneak Peek

Plugs: Sleep With Me Plus; SleepPhones; Story Only Feed; Emily Tat Artwork; Crisis Textline

Sponsors: Helix Sleep; Zocdoc; Progressive; Coyuchi

Notable Language:

• Intro (1041)
• Swirly Straw
• Churl
• Neigh-bore
• Bore-bor
• Marple
• Story
• W-O-E
• Sharing in Normality
• The futility of pride
• The offspring of my delirium
• My impatient thirst for sympathy
• Courage in the face of Compost
• Airy Dreams of Futurity
• The compost of my mind
• Joy Tiredness

Notable Culture:

• • Intro (1041)
  • 1041
  • Miss Marple
  • Agatha Christie
  • The Case of the Approachable Safe

• The Comforting Bog

• The Case of the Soothing Spa

• • Story

• Frankenstein

• • Mary Shelley
  • Joey Lawrence

• The Godfather

• Adam & Eve

Notable Talking Points:

• Intro (1041)
• Whatever is going on
• Let me just go off script here
• I don’t have an actual script
• I got neigh-bore and bore-bor mixed up
• An Approachable Safe
• The New Marple Mysteries
• The Case of the Approachable Safe
• My thoughts are bog-like already
• The Comforting Bog
• Lady Marple now
• Like looking at the clouds when you feel like it
• This has nothing to do with Miss Marple
• This is Lady Marpbel now
• Spoiler: the case never gets solved
• The Case of the Soothing Spa
• No spa could soothe me
• The Spa Where You Don’t Sit Still
• Story
• Chapter 22
• We proceeded to Paris
• I overtaxed myself and needed to rest
• My father was still trying to solve my incurable woe
• He wanted me to seek amusement
• I just want to be alone
• I like people, but I’m so unique that I can’t be with anyone
• Sharing in Normality
• I fear people will send me off, metaphorically, like Napoleon
• My father tries to banish my despair
• The futility of pride
• I try to explain why everything is my fault while not explaining why everything is my fault
• My impatient thirst for sympathy
• If only my father would know how great I was but I can’t say it
• My brilliance has changed the trajectory of all the people I love
• Courage in the face of Compost
• My father is always confused by my compost talk
• I became calmer as time passed, but misery still dwelled in my heart
• Curbing the imperious voices of my wretchedness
• I get a letter from Elizabeth
• She sees how much I’ve suffered
• Elizabeth has to express some stuff to me
• A wedding has always been planned between us
• Are we more siblings or lovers?
• She assumes I love another
• I have been apart from her for so long
• She fears I’ll regret our connection
• Elizabeth does love me
• She’ll be miserable unless I want to get married
• My wish, not just my father’s wish
• If I’m happy, then she’ll be happy
• Then I remember the LBB’s promise
• “I will be with you on your wedding night”
• He’s gonna compostify my wedding!
• Didn’t Luca Brasi sleep with the leafies?
• Oh boy, let me get my hands on him
• I yearn to face him and then be free
• The compost of my mind
• Sweet, lovely Elizabeth
• But the apple has already been eaten
• I want to be happy but I have to deal with this LBB thing
• I do love someone more than Elizabeth (when I look in the mirror)
• Of course, I’m so smart, so the LBB is naturally smart, too
• LBB isn’t satiated yet
• My father is no Clerval when it comes to cheering me up
• I write a calm, affectionate letter to Elizabeth
• All my happiness remains in Elizabeth
• I will reveal my “organic” secret the morning after our wedding night
• And she’ll realize how amazing and resilient I’ve been
• We returned to Geneva a week later
• She has tears in her eyes when she sees me
• So much time has passed 
• This was not the Elizabeth of my mind
• Sometimes I just got despondent, thinking of all my miseries
• Elizabeth alone could draw me out of my misery
• She wept with me and for me
• For the guilty, there is no peace
• I remain silent when thinking of marriage
• But I do go forward with it
• Let us cling closer together in our misfortune
• New, dear objects of care will be born to replace those of which we have been deprived
• But what about the omnipotent being that will come for me?
• A leaf on my shoulder still lingers
• The ceremony will take place in 10 days
• Somehow compost covered up my greater eyes
• I didn’t realize his intentions wouldn’t necessarily have to do with me
• If this was a TV show, I’d now be using my brilliance to build anti-compost devices
• My heart sunk within me
• I concealed my feelings with an appearance of hilarity
• I couldn’t deceive the watchful eye of Elizabeth
• She senses something else is going on
• I get tired just thinking of all the work my dad is doing to prep for my wedding
• Some of Elizabeth’s wealth has been restored by the Austrian government
• We’re gonna spend on our wedding night on a villa on Lake Como
• Pockets full of giant garbage bags
• A small rake
• A “leaf” grinder
• I kept these on myself to defend myself
• I heard the sounds of compost everywhere
• I was always ready so felt some relief and tranquility
• The wedding draws near
• The Date Was Saved and Planned
• My tranquil demeanor calmed Elizabeth down
• On our wedding day, Elizabeth seems so down
• My father has too much joy, Elizabeth has too little
• He doesn’t recognize the melancholy of Elizabeth
• It’s called Joy Tiredness
• I won’t bore you with how legendary our wedding ceremony was
• We start off on our journey immediately
• Embarking on the lake to Evian
• That was the last moment I was happy
• No way Elizabeth is as sorrowful as me
• I try to cheer Elizabeth up (aka tell her not to be sad)
• Come on, Elizabeth, make this day peaceful for me
• Traveling across the lake to Evian
• It’s very pleasant as we approach the shore
• Then I remember our situation
• I take a nap before what comes next…