So, my mum went into my room to put my sleeping medicine in a syringe thingy (no, I do not inject it into myself, I swallow it in liquid form) because she's going out with her friends. She noticed that I have been collecting empty bottles that once stored my sleeping medicine and suggested we should make an art piece out of the bottles, to which I responded with "or we could use them for the next time we go camping". She asked if they were to be used for drinking if that were the case, to which

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It took some doing, but I think I've finally arrived at a conclusion in regards of my guitar rig - I've found the sound I've been searching for. (Well, kinda...)

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Hola, dear Brethren! Followers of The Rain, I bring to you today a personal anecdote telling of the time I was accused of stealing from my local supermarket!

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I played a Firebird today. Not very well, mind you. I...I've never been more confused by a guitar than I have today.

The one I played was beautiful as anything you'd want in a guitar. It was cherry red, where you could see the wood grain, which made it so appealing you could consider it as erotic as your wife or girlfriend wearing lingerie on Valentine's Day. Then I played it, which is where my confusion came in.

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Last month in October, it was my birthday, and I came home with one of my favourite guitars. There's a new guitar shop directly around the corner from my house, so it's a perfect deal if I need new pedals, cables, straps, leads or cleaning equipment and / or cases, so I ended up going over there with my guitar to see how much I could get for it.

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Well, all in all, I now feel like a complete idiot.

It's nothing bad, mind you, but I went out in the past half hour or so to the new guitar shop around the corner, a place I've been a couple of times just out of my love and respect of music and the industry, and I wanted to try out some new amps because I'm considering buying one. I tried out a Fender, as per my love for them, and I jammed on both a sunburst Telecaster and a Duo-Sonic for the first time.

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If you're like me and you've got a case of The Fluffies, you're naturally unable to not go over and stroke a cat that you see on the path on the same side of the street you're walking on.

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About a year or two ago, I got out of a semi-abusive relationship with a girl that convinced me that she loved me. We got along great, we always hung out and laughed together, and I was happy at last to share my innermost self with someone I cared about.

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Context - I start off with an introduction as to how I got started on Fimfiction, the first material I ever wrote, my journey through writing and learning the ropes, persona experiences made through wrongs and rights, the people and contacts I've made and learned a great deal from, my thoughts on creativity...just a lot of different areas. I have a tendency to rant at times, but this is something that I really felt needed to be said.

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"I just got off the phone with your family therapist, and I hadn't realized how many issues your family had."
"That's normal, though, right? You look under the hood of any family, and you'll find problems."
"Well that's... true, but when I look under the hood of your family, I find squirrels."
-Conversation I recently had with my therapist.

Did I ever tell y'all about the time a year ago, right on Christmas Eve, when I finally got my dream guitar?

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So...I had a beyond weird dream last night related to coronavirus. Not weird as in awful, like it was a scene from a horror film, but in an oddly comedic way.

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Story time! I've pondered telling this story for quite a while now, and I think I'll give it a go and tell it today, simply for the sake of it.

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Here's one of my favourite anecdotes from 2015 when I was rehearsing for my very first live stage performance with Adrain Rawlins as the director. The entire show was written and managed by SHE Productions.

Okay, so you know how much the world has pretty much developed into a black veil of hopelessness that is sure to be damned at one point or another? Well, it turns out that not only has the system gone to all hell, but some of the people I've seen around town have taken to it, as well!

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You should always try and be mindful about the feelings of those around you, no matter who they are or where you are.

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There is one thing that I've had my eyes on for a while now. Those who know me well enough know that I'm obsessed with guitars. I enjoy Stratocasters and Mustangs the most. When I discovered what the Fender Custom Shop was, I went nuts over the idea. Unfortunately for inexperienced me, I was like a child on Christmas when I find a guitar on eBay that had a Custom Shop decal on its headstock. That was the first mistake.

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Halloween isn't far off from now, so I figured I'd take this time to tell you a short ghost story. It's from a time long ago when we were living in our second house after some family issues put us in a position we couldn't stay there anymore. It wasn't a willing decision, and we would most certainly still be there to this day if things were different, but we had no choice.

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I was looking through one of my older stories. The Heart That Forgot How to Feel. I want to tell you all about this story, about why I wrote it.

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So, I'm not going to talk about the huge amount of spoilers in the trailers...

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