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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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The Close
On Friday 12 March 2004, I made an account on fanfiction.net and used the nickname kittykittyhunter for the very first time.
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ff.net was the first place where I ‘existed’ online.  I uploaded a fanfic the same day I joined – a poem about Dark Magician Girl from Yu-Gi-Oh! – but later deleted it out of embarrassment.  Over the years, I went on to upload and delete a fair few works for similar reasons: a sense of awkwardness over my earnestness, recognising too many gaping holes in my writing and just… pruning my account when I failed to finish multi-chap stories.  I made some wonderful friends through the site, one of whom remains a precious presence in my life.
Now, my ff.net is an archive my stories for The Prince of Tennis (the ones featuring the Echizen family, anuway). I’m happy with it staying like that. Then, sometime in 2006, I joined deviantART:
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dA taught me a lot about writing.  Suddenly, I was exposed to extremely talented and versatile writers; I understood what it meant to be part of writing communities and give meaningful feedback.  (I utilised these skills during writing workshops at university several years later – by that point, it was natural for me to pinpoint, celebrate and help to refine aspects of a piece.) Only one of my deviations is still visible; I placed the others in storage mostly, once again, due to feeling embarrassed by my earnestness and skill level.  Nevertheless, I am proud of what I achieved on the site – I received through two Daily Deviations, features that were largely coveted in the writing community (I know that I wanted one for years!), and the attention that those works got gave me the confidence to think that yes, perhaps I was a decent writer, perhaps it was not a mistake to think that I might publish books someday. I certainly fell short on some fronts on dA... however, I think it may be time to forgive myself and perhaps, one day, I can make amends. The most important habit that deviantART inspired in me was this:
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A few people I looked up to had a saying: “Comments over faves.”  Written feedback meant much, much more than simply pressing the little star-shaped 'Favourite' button – and that’s something I carried across to tumblr, to some extent.  I use replies pretty liberally here, talking to people who may not want to hear from a complete stranger.  Even so, I definitely want to get better at tagging the artwork I reblog – I know there’s nothing like reading an explosion of feelings under your work. Once again, I met some incredible friends through deviantART.  I’ve had the wonderful privilege of being able to meet some of my online friends in real life.  It’s a very special feeling to be able to embrace someone you’ve lovingly sent texts, emails and letters to.
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Then, on Sunday 30 January 2011, my friend succeeded in persuading me to make a tumblr account.  I suppose that I didn’t really know what to expect from tumblr; however, I fell for the site quickly and now, I can’t imagine having an online presence on any other social media platform, even with the various issues tumblr has had during recent months. I accidentally deleted my original blog in 2020.  I lost approximately 36,000 posts.  I oscillated between feeling distraught and relieved; I despaired at losing a lot of memories and work but, at the same time, was grateful that this meant I wouldn’t subject myself to the laborious task of going through the entirety of my archive and re-tagging my posts for uniformity.  I can be ridiculously pedantic about things like that – so it was good that the option was taken from me. I still haven’t quite connected with the writing communities on tumblr – but I know that there are a lot of skilled writers here. There are a few authors I deeply admire; I would love to get to know them.
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Bizarrely, I joined AO3 on Thursday 12 March 2020 – exactly 16 years after I’d joined ff.net. AO3… I had a lot of plans for this site (including a fanfic list as long as my arm) but, somehow, I could never really warm to the layout… I’m a real elitist and have issues with using/joining sites that are ‘ugly’.  And, while I’ve received some comments on AO3, it is largely a pretty quiet and passive experience – readers come and go and leave a fly-by kudos and, as a writer, that’s not so satisfying. I'm not inspired to upload work there. I might still post the occasional fic (though I’d prefer to spend my time writing original works, sometimes, the allure of fanfiction is pretty powerful), but it won’t be through AO3 – and it won’t be under the moniker of kittykittyhunter. It’s been 20 years.  20 years of brilliant memories and friendships – 20 years where I’ve learnt a lot about myself, others and the world at large.  But I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I’ve decided that it is time to retire kittykittyhunter.  Ultimately, I think want people to associate KKH with the writing that I’ve shared online up until now, so this blog, too, will be an archive of my poetry and prose. It feels strange.  Surreal.  I’ve associated myself with the name kittykittyhunter for so long that it seems as though I’m losing something momentous – like the process of reinventing myself, this time, will be far more arduous than it has been in the past.  I don’t know what kind of reception I will get.  Yet, over the years, I’ve also come to align myself with the phoenix – one who reemerges, again and again, stronger and brighter. My blog icon comes from the Yu-Gi-Oh! card ‘A Feather of the Phoenix’. Isn't it funny that these things are so cyclical? I pray that a good path is meant for me. Thank you to everyone who has been with me up until now: your love and generosity has meant the world.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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The Archive
Introduction On 14 June 2020, I accidentally deleted my tumblr, wiping out a blog that I had been maintaining since January 2011.  I was distraught due to losing a lot of fond memories – and crushed at the thought of so much of my writing disappearing.  I hadn’t been very disciplined about keeping offline back-ups of my work, so when my blog disappeared, so did a large collection of poems, short stories, vignettes and fanfics.
Over the last few years, I’ve steadily recovered a decent chunk of my writing (about 300 pieces) thanks to my friends reblogging my posts and being diligent with their tagging systems.  I’ve now been able to archive and remaster my poems and prose pieces – though my fanfiction remains in the ether (which, to be honest, I’m okay with). On that note, I would like to express immense gratitude to the people whose blogs I recovered my works from:
alistersangelsong
@brattyhalfpint
caitsylph
@houkou-nrl
jirohoushi
kara-kitsu-x
kasukasumoe
@kidasbrainspace
@kunimitsuchin
lassinajumper
@lenandbonten
@mono-frog
@mon-qi
seethebattlefield
@s-ephiroth
@tacotits
@ten-thousands-hobbits
thunderdownongreenside-archive
I know a lot of these bloggers either are no longer on tumblr or use these accounts (and tumblr wouldn't allow me to tag everyone?); even so, I want to share my thanks. And thank you to everyone else who read, shared or otherwise enjoyed my writing over the years.  I hope that it inspired deep feelings and I hope that it bought you comfort.  I want you to know that I wouldn’t still be pursuing writing if it wasn’t for all the support you sent my way.  I read and savoured your comments and tags and, I promise you, I am grateful for all the love I received. Methodology While it would have been simpler to reblog the old posts, save for those that were trapped under a Read More (and a fair few pieces fell into this category), for this archiving project, I opted to take the opportunity to edit my works (also, I didn’t particularly want to bombard my friends’ notes by reblogging ancient posts).  This gave me a chance to appropriately re-format some works which had, unfortunately, originally looked quite ugly! The editing process was incredibly interesting – I ended up making changes to almost all my posts, so it’s good to know that I’ve definitely grown as a reader and writer over the last decade.  A very small number of the posts were brand new for the blog, but at this stage, I’m happy to count them as part of my archive.  For me, it’s important to compartmentalise and draw a divide between the writing I shared then and the writing that I will, hopefully, go on to pen in the future. I’m still in the process of proofreading: some of my tags have typos and there are certainly some errant dashes, among other issues, here and there.  Nevertheless, I’m satisfied with the state of things for now. Some posts are titled [‘Circa …’].  If I had been savvier about using tumblr mobile in conjunction with the web version, I could have recovered all of the exact dates of my original posts.  However, what’s done is done and I am satisfied with what I was able to accomplish. Statistics I love numbers – here are some interesting graphs regarding my posts:
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Posts by Form - Prose – 37 - Poems – 271 Total – 308
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No. of Posts by Year - 2012 – 1 - 2013 – 4 - 2014 – 21 - 2015 – 61 - 2016 – 114 - 2017 – 44 - 2018 – 22 - 2019 – 16 - 2020 – 20 - 2022 – 4 - 2024 – 1 Total – 308 There’s definitely a lot of writing that I wasn’t able to track down: in 2016, for example, I believe that I posted 366 poems.  Still, I’m pleased with the works that I did find – it was great to rediscover works that I’d completely forgotten about. I think that draws this post to a close.  Thanks for reading!
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 17 March 2024] The Sunburners She tucks a strand of red hair behind one ear. “I’m grateful for all the love I received.” She’s grown up and it’s too much. She’s talking calmly. Quietly. She’s refusing to acknowledge the world crumbling around us. We’re not simply surrounded by daisies and sunset; there’s fire in the distance and, even from here, I can feel threads of tremendous heat. Things will change. Things have already changed. And we won’t be able to return to anything we left behind. “You know,” I say, “they adored you. I often asked where you stopped and I started. I wondered whether I borrowed your name and if there was actually a distinction between us. I liked the idea, you know, of relying on a second self. If you could have been real –” “I am real,” she cuts in. Smiles. Runs a hand through her hair. “But I am tired. Also, I haven’t been present in any real way for a long time… and I think that’s okay. We’re all needed in different ways. For different things.” “Maybe I couldn’t have done it without you. Maybe I would have been – like something else. I took you being my shield for granted and now I’m going out there, alone, and I’ll be unarmed.” My voice and my heart waver. I’m making a mistake. Her gaze is steady. “You are never, ever alone.” “I’m still afraid.” “That’s okay. Fear shows you care. If this wasn’t important to you, there wouldn’t be any point.” She smiles again. “I could make a cameo. That’d be fun.” Her expression is unbelievably reassuring. “Yeah,” I agree. “You’re always welcome. I’d love that.” We embrace. I close my eyes, inhale, count down from ten – and then, when I face the world once more, the daisies have become sunflowers and the sky is waking up.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 25 November 2017] listen closely: you’re not finished yet. there are still stars to claim, sights to see, chances to seize, air to breathe. there is still something out there that needs your heartbeat. listen carefully because you’re not finished yet. the leaves and twigs crowding your brain will be swept away; the skies shall fold and the sun will shine. listen. we’re going to be fine.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 10 July 2015] Sworn love, you stumbled into my arms. They were not ready to catch you (clamped to my sides); I did not expect you but you arrived, dyed hair and howling eyes. Sworn love, when we met there were no depths to my heart – but oh! how it hollowed and oh! how it learned. I am still raw from the fall. I am still shaking: the sinew of my untidy limbs is thin and my skin is scarred and bruised.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 10 July 2015] i. I cast stars from hills and valleys into their nets; they caught the fruit eagerly and feasted upon light – no surprise, then, that their eyes sparkled with an energy I had not seen before (or have seen since). ii. But when I bit into a star it tore within my mouth. I was appalled. I had wanted warmth and was rewarded with blood. iii. If you see it, golden edges tinged with shards of pink, remember that the things that fulfil you hurt.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 19 June 2015] Dear butterfly (among the wildflowers), how many petals do you seek for your crown? I have a jar of tamed daisies on a shelf in my kitchen, and if you wish, could bring them down. Dear bumblebee (among the wild berries), how many seeds do you need for your throne? I have some leftover cake that I couldn’t finish, and if you want, you could call it your own. Dear ladybird (among the wild nettles), how many thorns do you need for your sword? I have a barbed heart that I don’t need anymore, and if you like, could be part of your hoard.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 2 January 2015] rivalis There’s nothing I love better than crossing swords with you; take heed, I’ll match your speed with my own, cut you down, watch you kneel on the ground, spluttering all your vows and regrets – I’ll rejoice when the fire invades your eyes and your willpower assuages your fear.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 8 January 2016] My shoelace came undone. I started composing my words earlier during the brief walk home. My skirt was long and swooshed round my ankles, but did not stop me enjoying the sun. Ahead walked a mother with her tiny daughter; further yet was an elderly man. He dragged a wheeled bag and had a stooped neck – in one hand, he held a reddish umbrella: his makeshift walking stick. Our balcony was already within my sights when the shoelace began to unravel. I’m recounting this tale t’wards the end of the night when I’ve little more to travel.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 3 January 2016] Mother told me legends of a talented artist: the sky was his canvas and the clouds his palette; he would mix yellows upon wisps and greys upon mists then begin again, scrubbing out the fabric with rain. His lines were fragmented strokes of lightning that flashed for an instant before disappearing. And for those who listened, he’d sometimes howl with the thunder or whistle with the wind. I think the artist must have found a new sky: he left ours plain and white, blank and still. We don’t know how to fill with anymore – whether he had happened or if we’d dreamt it all. If I find him (and I hope that I will), I’ll ask for his leftover pigments and dyes. I can’t think of myself as a skilful apprentice, but I’ll do what I can with his forgotten supplies.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 17 June 2015] Oh, youth did I squander you to bitterness and betrayal? An old woman caught by a young woman’s bones; my tepid blood turns to citrus fruit – harken youth, do you recall when your organs throbbed with energy and ambition? I am eight parts regret to two parts flesh and you do not know me at all.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 11 June 2015] My anger spikes so quickly that even volcanoes would be alarmed; at least they lie dormant for years and years before the fire and lava spill; I am not so – I have no chill and explode repeatedly without warning.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 16 June 2015] I did not know my hollows were so deep or my mind so free of thought; thus I seek sweet purpose in the flowers that I reap – but they have wilted and are far too meek. I know not how to plug these gaping holes: stones are too heavy and water too thin; I am empty from my crown to my soles, ample space for the monster to live in. And how shall my garden flourish when I am fearful of vibrant colours and peace? I depend on the beast to get me by for it will remain till the cravings cease.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 14 March 2014] Hidden Dragon chief, you stalked the moonlit sky, aura crackling, raging eye – six claws drawn, and all that I knew was how I admired you. Your fangs were sharp, your wings were spread, you fought me for a noble’s head and forged my overflowing soul with fire and steel. What an honour! to see you storming through the battlefield, yet this Young Cub has bold manoeuvres too. My greatest foe and greatest friend. Dragon chief, I shall match your strength and present my roaring heart.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 4 November 2016] You’re strong. You and I know it. You’ve worked your life to show it – you’ve proven it to all, including me. But I’m not convinced by your supposed invincibility. It’s alright to fall down, sometimes. Alright to stay on the ground, fine to cry. You see, you don’t have to pretend with me.
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 19 May 2015] the days are clocks in perpetual motion: nothing-rests-nothing-breathes; we run from Time (and its nails and its pincers); our days are stuck and exhaustion breaks us a p a r t you lie on the ground when the rolling world violates its axes; we are spinning and falling down towards the chasm and our heartache and yet and yet the hidden purpose shines through the dark (you vowed we were built to last) o claim thy wings and soar ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴᴡᴀʀᴅ till lightning coils at thy feet! you are One, from the dawn till the dusk; you spark fire in a heart fettered by cold you are Kindness, emboldened by the deepest Strength, and through my cries and my roars, i can promise: you light stars in my soul
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kittykittyhunter · 1 month
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[Posted 2 November 2015] Fog is descending in streams. The turbulent winter is once again at our door, preparing to bite our fingers and freeze our blood. Despite the encroaching nights, this year has been imbued with victory that will carry us through our loss. I have you to thank for much.
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