It's Hard Being an Artist · 1:04pm May 4th, 2016
Don't judge lol I made it last night out of tiredness. I have more, considering posting them as a blog. Who'd like to see them? XD
Don't judge lol I made it last night out of tiredness. I have more, considering posting them as a blog. Who'd like to see them? XD
My mental health is kind of up and down at the moment. Feels like I take one step forwards and three steps back every time I try to "sort myself out."
One of my cats seems to be sick. He's thrown up four times in the last two and a half hours. Three of those times it was on my bedroom floor.
Well, I'm alive.
Thank you to those of you who offered support in the blog I posted earlier. I know it was a bit of a rant blog and there wasn't really much anyone could do for me, but just knowing that that support was there helped me a lot.
Stuck in a writing funk. Even when I know where I want something to go, I have some trouble coming up with the words sometimes. Still, I'm continually looking at it and things jump out to me once I bother putting fingers to keys, so not all hope is lost yet. Electricity is being turned off for an indeterminate amount of time soon, though, so I'll spend that time actually writing on real paper to make up for lack of real typing going on.
It's a thing I wrote while mostly-asleep last night. It's a garbage fire of semi-connected thoughts, meme references, and scenarios that characters canonically would probably not even touch with a 10-footlong stick.
Nevermind the fact that I didn't even have a coherent plot the entire time I spent writing the thing.
47,943 have been crafted this October.
That's a lot of words.
And I'm not even done.
I've spent over thirty minutes laughing at this. Please send help.
One of the things I frequently harp on my friends who identify themselves as Leftists is the large divide between needing to read 87 books to understand a ten-page Leftist joke, and the fact that there’s often a struggle within academia and in leftist politics to condense information down to people that, quite frankly, don’t have time to read said 87 books. My friend RoMS was asking what I meant by that, as one of the topics I frequently point toward is the difference between the oral culture
I've just posted what may be the most personal story I've ever written, given that my middle name is Trixie, my nickname ever since high school is Trickster, and my mother has dementia. There are other deep parallels I'd rather not discuss here.
My long but Incomplete Summer Sin Celebration pn0y story is out! It begins with naughty Sparity imagery, but becomes Spiharynx with romance headed to Sporax. Also I accidentally discuss issues of consent for thousands of words.
You'll get it, alright.
I couldn't sleep tonight, and I was bored, so I thought I'd come on here and write a long blog post. Fair warning, I'll be using a fuck load of equipment jargon in this post. If you don't know what I'm talking about, click here for an Imgur album I made explaining what everything is.
I wanted to talk about WW2 equipment and, more specifically, reenacting. This'll be a more of a stream of consciousness thing, so bear with me.