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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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Do you ever feel like you should be doing something important, useful or profound and by doing nothing and relaxing you're wasting your potential, a feeling which makes it difficult to relax, confirming that you are wasting time since you can't even relax properly?
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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One of the unforeseen challenges of being a woman living alone is that there is no one around to zip up dresses for me...
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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Sometimes when you have depression and you reach out to your friends or family, the conversation turns to how your depression makes them feel. Of course their feeling are valid and important, but it’s hard to emotionally support others when you’re barley hanging onto your own mental health.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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I see a therapist
I work with my doctor
I take my meds
I drink water
And eat and much as I can
I try to sleep regularly
I go for walks
And see friends and family
I reach out for support
I pet my cat
I do art and journal
But sometimes
Despite all that
Living with depression
Hurts
Beyond words
Beyond anyone’s comprehension
Besides those who too
Have walked the path.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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Me: *laying on the couch, depressed*
Depression: want tacos.
Me:What?
Depression: Everything is meaningless... except tacos.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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Everything that is happening
Has already happened.
Everything is dying
Or dead already.
But that does not take away
The beauty of leaves in the autumn
The pain of winter’s desolation.
The meaning you create
Fleeting and fragile
May not impact the larger universe
But does impact you
And me
Here
Today
Now.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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We are
Monstrous existence
Haunted atoms
Dust that was
Violently startled into
Self awareness.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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7 day writing challenge, day 6, 3/13/2021:
Do you ever get the feeling that you should be doing something more than what you already are doing? That you should be doing something that will contribute to society in some way, but instead you sit on the couch and watch dating shows? I am young so I feel I should not be worrying about what kind of legacy I may leave behind, but I can’t help but think I should be better, I should be more.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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7 days of writing challenge, day 5, 3/12/21:
I sat on the shower floor, the warm spray poor down my back. I drew my knees up to my chest, and folded my arms on top of my knees, and rested my head on my arms. I think about the way she told me that my mental illnesses can make some outings hard, and that it was easier if I stayed behind.
I know this is true, but it still hurts. I am not angry at her, but I am unsettled, so I sit down in the calming cocoon of water and prepare to have a serious conversation with myself.
“Why did those words hurt you?” Self Reflexion asked me, cocking its head to the side. “ Because she is my friend, and she called me weak.” I answered.
“Then why aren’t you mad!?” Indignation and Fear asked in unison, their voices low but harsh.
“I know that my mental illnesses cause problems,” I tried to explain. “It wasn’t coming out of a place of malice, but concern.”
Empathy nods in agreement to this, and graces me with a gentle smile. “She always supports you when you do have an episode of anxiety or depression!” Loyalty was quick to add.
“But besides the stress having an episode puts on you,” Guilt interjected, “ It also puts stress on your friends and family and can ruin their plans.”
“ It’s not her responsibility to manage my mental illnesses!” Frustration adds its voice to Indignation and Fear’s chorus.
“It makes me feel useless,” I tell them, trying not to cry.
“You manage your mental health extremely well!” Confidence tells me, take my hand in it’s own.
“ But I think you should distance yourself from her,” Trauma whispers from behind me. “She will leave you behind if you are a burden to her.”
I begin to turn towards Trauma, but Cunning stops me by saying “If you have more friends, then if she leaves you then it’s not a big deal.” Cunning shrugs one shoulder before being pushed aside by Nihilism.
“ Everyone’s leaves,” it reminds me with a soft smile. “Whether voluntarily or involuntarily. So you might as well enjoy the relationships you have while you have them.”
I ponder this for a moment before Expression waves for my attention and tells me “ You should expand your friend group, and you should be able confide in your other friends too”.
“But what if it causes a rift between her and you and the rest” Fear sputters.
“What if it doesn’t and it just makes you feel better?”
Nihilism puts a hand on Fear’s shoulder to calm it. “Neither of these actions or reactions will change anything in the grand scheme of the universe, but they matter for you, and those you care about.”
“But-“ Anxiety leaps onto Fear’s back and peaks over its shoulder at me.
“But, the water is running cold.” Pragma says, breaking the tension in the room.
I lift my head from my knees. So it is.
“ We haven’t made any decisions yet!” Self Reflection stops me from my attempt to get off the shower floor.
“ No, we didn’t,” I agree. “But I do feel better now that I’ve thought it out. And that’s something, right?”.
“Right” many voices grumped together.
“ One step at a time”, I try to remind myself.
“First, it’s time to shower. I’ll deal with the rest after that.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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7 days of writing challenge, day 4, 3/11/2021:
“What are you doing?” My little sister asks me. I lift up my head from where I am laying on the floor to look at her.
“I’m trying to tell my fortune by reading the cracks in the ceiling.” I say, even though I’m really just spacing out, thinking, dreaming.
“The ceiling? Fortune?” She asked me, half befuddled, half excited. “Can I look too?”
Dropping my head back to the rug, I patted the space beside me. “Of course! Come here.”
She lays next to me on the plush rug, her smaller body nestling against mine. “I don’t know if you remember,” I tell her, putting an arm around her. “But before we moved to the city, we used to lay out on the grass at night, and mom would tell our fortunes in the stars.” I smile fondly at the memory. “And then dad would bring us hot cocoa to warm us up after.”
“Really?” My sister asks, turning further into me. “Yeah. You were little- maybe 2 or 3, so you didn’t always stay out with us long, but we did.” I blink the tears away that well in my eyes, but I can’t do the same to banish the melancholy tone in my voice.
After a few moments of silence, my sister asks “so? What does the ceiling tell you about our future?” I hate the undertone of uncertainty in her voice. A few years ago, she never sounded uncertain. I mean, neither did I. Back then everything made sense, or at least it felt like it did. And even when I was afraid, my mom would show me the stars. She would show me their patterns and tell me their stories, and remind me that even in the darkest nights, you can still see the stars.
My and my sister’s lives may feel uncertain now, but maybe I can share the same comfort with her, that our mom shared with me when we were younger. We can’t see the stars clearly in this city, and it’s dangerous to go wander outside at night, but maybe tonight, the ceiling can be our stars.
“ well let’s see...” I say, grabbing her hand and tracing the patterns that the ceiling cracks make in the air. “ This one is saying...” as I tell stories and make up our fortunes, I can’t help but think that my sister’s laughter lights up this dim place just as we as any of the stars do in the sky.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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7 days of writing challenge, day 3 3/10/2021
Tread gently on the line between waking and slumber. Walk carefully between reality and dreams. Find the intersection between all, and you will get what you deserve.
“‘You will get what you deserve’?” Kallie asked her friend and business partner Mel incredulously. “ That is so ominous! No one is going to want to wield the true power of the Sword of Dreams when they read that!”
“Sure they will,” Mel replied dismissively, as they continued to tinker with the programming behind their latest project- a sword programmed to find the best leader possible in a pool of candidates based on preset characteristics.
“ Our client said they wanted something that would only attract brave candidates, and this wording does that.”
Kallie leaned both her elbows on her desk and propped her chin in her hands. “Yeah, but we don’t want to scare away potential candidates either”, she argued. “If it does not work because we were too doom and gloom with the wording of the qualifying prophecy attached to the sword, then it will not work like it’s supposed to. If it does not work, then we will not get good reviews, and no good reviews means less business and less business means that we will both be back in the junk yard!”
Mel turned from their work bench with a sigh. “Kallie, our business is going to be fine. And we aren’t going to end up back in the junk yard. For one, I’ve upgraded my parts since you found me shut down in the scrap pile, so I definitely won’t be scrapped again even if we do fail. And you are made of flesh, not synthetic parts so they would not scrap you anyways.”
Kallie rolled her eyes at her cyborg friend’s logical response. “ That’s not the point, and you know it!” She fired back, lifting her head from her hands to glare at them.
“Secondly,” Mel continued as if Kallie hadn’t spoken- which they knew annoyed their red headed human friend to no end. “ We run the THE custom advanced interactive technology in the known universe.”
“ Because we have SO much competition,” Kallie muttered under her breath, but Mel’s soothing words began to cool the fiery panic that had been bubbling up in her chest at the thought of failure.
“We have no serious competition, especially with my programming skills and your creativity. I know you grew up barely surviving before you fell through the time portal into the future, but we pulled ourselves up literally from the absolute bottom of society. Our skills and drive to succeed aren’t going anywhere. I’M not going anywhere.”
During their speech Mel had moved away from their work bench to kneel in front of Kallie. Even kneeling Mel was still a few head taller than Kallie was, but even so they bent their large frame to press their forehead against her’s in a gesture of affection and reassurance.
Mel knew that one job wouldn’t break them, even if they did not get the qualifiers words right. Sometimes her life with Mel felt like a dream- like she would wake up at any moment and be back living in the dirty streets of London with the sirens from the bomber plane warnings screeching in the background. It will be okay, Kallie reminded herself. You’re not alone anymore.
After another moment of comfortable silence, Kallie pushed away from Mel and focused back in on their project- a sword that would be dropped in a primitive civilization to help them stabilize their leadership so they don’t wipe themselves out.
“Okay, and think I see where you were going with the whole ‘get what you deserve’ thing, but I think if we word the qualifier like this...”
Mel smiled and returned to their own work as Kallie began tapping furiously on her holo tablet. Kallie was quick to change moods, like a large body of water that Mel once saw in their days before they were tossed aside and then saved by Kallie. But that suited Mel just fine, as Kallie’s bright flare of emotions balanced out Mel’s calmer disposition, and Vice versa.
Mel gave a small smile and shook their head at their partner’s rambling. In a way they were both left for dead by their own people, and despite- or maybe because of their differences- they found a new life worth living, together.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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7 Days of Writing Challenge
Day 2, Tuesday 3/9/2021
The only thing worse than loud, drunk college kids is loud, drunk, lion shifting college kids. It was 5:30 am on Sunday morning, and Scarlett was once again cursing the fact that she lives near the University, despite her apartment being close to her job at the local emergency room where she works nights. When Scarlett found the small but cozy one bedroom home tucked between apartment buildings  on the edge of the city’s small but bustling down town, she couldn’t  resist.  Now, as Scarlett observed from her window as a college kid that must have spilled out from one of the parties going on, was banging on her front door yelling “Cannddddyyyyy” at the top of his lungs, she wished she had.
How does Scarlett know that the Candy kid is a drunk shifter and not just a drunk human? For one, the nearby university is a historically supernatural college so a lot of  types attend the school, and the most common supernaturals in this part of the country are shifters. Second, the kid wasn’t exactly subtle about it, which Scarlett observed as the kid’s meaty hand turned into a meaty paw, which made a terrible screeching sound as his claws scraped across the metal door- which was made of metal in case of this sort of incident.
The door-clawer’s mane like hair was also a dead give away of his species. Wincing, Scarlett cracked open one of her front windows just enough to shout “Will you quit it!”?at the Lion kid. The kid swung his head from the door in Scarlett’s direction. Gods, Scarlett thought as she took in how dilated the kid’s pupils where, in addition to his stumbling movements, which was so far off from a shifters normal natural grace as to be laughable. How much shifter proof alcohol did he down?
“Cannndddyyy?” The kid slurred. “Baaabbyyy why’d ya  flyyy awwaayyy?” Scarlett wasn’t sure if this Candy girl literally flew or not- which is possible given the variety of shifters and other supernaturals that exist alongside humans- but Scarlett thought that the girl was probably smart to get away from the Lion shaped train wreck standing on her porch.
“I’m not Candy,”Scarlett said slowly and clearly, as if that would force her words through the lion’s thick skull into his alcohol addled brain. “And even if I was, you showing up drunk on my door step is the opposite of impressive.” The kid stood staring at Scarlett for a good minuet before he stumbled closer to her window, making Candy glad that she replaced the glass with a shatter proof version and that she had a metal rod preventing the window from opening more than a few inches. Would that stop a rampaging Lion shifter? The answer is no. But did it make Scarlett feel better about the situation? Marginally, but that’s good enough for now.
“Can-Can,” the kids slurs, staggering to a stop. “Don’ be dat weeeyyy. Just be-caz I zaid dat lionz and birdz can’t be matez doeznt mean we can’t still fuucckkk”. Scarlett stood in shock and stared at the apparent idiot outside her window , speechless. No wonder Candy- who evidently can literally fly- left him. He’s a jerk!
While she was taking a deep breath to try to resist the urge to strangle the lion- which would only end up bad for Scarlett since she can’t win a fight against a shifter, even if this one was pretty drunk- a loud whisper broke through the heavy silence otherwise only marred by the distant sounds of laughter and music.
“Dude!” The voice whispered sharply, which evidently belonged to a far more sober Lion standing on the end he of Scarlett’s meager lawn. “ Brian! This isn’t her house! And you’re drunk off your ass!” Well, no shit, Scarlett thought. But before she could say anything to the two lawn trampling lions, the drunk one turned and shouted to his friend  “ No! Duuddeeeee I gotz diz!”
Turning back to  Scarlett’s window, he pressed his face against the glass and once again shouted “ Cannnddyyyyyyyyy! Let me innnn babyyyy. I’ll make it zo good fer ya”. The half assed leer on the kid’s face was almost comical, as was the way his face was smooshed against the window. Almost, because he was still a drunk lion capable of causing a shit ton more trouble than Scarlett and her neighbors just loosing sleep.
Catching the sober one’s eye, Scarlett told him firmly “ get him out of here now or I’ll call the local alpha.” Even with Scarlett’s human vision and the dim light, she could see- or feel- the sober kid’s eyes fill with terror. The local shifter alpha- Carry- is an asshole, but he’s an effective asshole who doesn’t tolerate bad- or stupid-behavior in his territory.
“I-I’ll get him!” The sober lion stuttered, sprinting towards his friend who was now sprawled out on Scarlett’s porch singing a drunk version of “I want Candy.” Slamming her window shut and locking it, Scarlett stumbled bank to bed, vowing to herself to call the alpha despite the good chance of her getting her head chewed off- hopefully figuratively- if the kids didn’t split in the next 30 minutes.
The rest of the party noises also seemed to fade, as if it was the planned time to shut everything down- or as if someone else heard her threaten to call the alpha and spread the word. Diving back into the blanket nest she left when the kid started his drunk hollering, Scarlett hoped that no one pees on her lawn again in retaliation. Most of the kids on her street like- or at least tolerate- Scarlett, but some still believe that snitches get stitches- or in her case- pisses. With that semi coherent thought and a half snort of laughter, Scarlett drifted back to the gentle comfort of sleep in the sudden, blessed, quiet.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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7 days of writing challenge, day 1:
Monday, 3/8/2021
Dawn carefully creeps across the sky, as if fearful that the night will come back and steal its light before it has a chance to fill each crevice of the small seaside town with its brilliance. The harsh glare of the huge stadium lights blot out the light from the last stars still clinging to visibility, and the strong smell of chlorine overpowers the delicate scent of night air.
But if Alyssa looked straight up as she glides through the cool waters of the pool on her back, she could pretend that it was the sky she was floating through, instead of the harsh chlorinated water from the community pool. Wispy clouds, dark and elusive like smoke, seem to flow around her as Alyssa touches her hand to the pool wall, before she turns and launches herself into a breast stroke instead of back stroke she was using before.
Her breath leaves her in harsh, stinging pants as she comes up for air before diving beneath the surface of the pool again. With her eyes closed and the world muted around her, Alyssa feels safe. But the feeling quickly fades as she once again breaks the surface and the water is no longer her shield against the harsh sounds and lights from the outside world.
As Alyssa approaches the pool wall again and prepares to turn and flip off and into back stroke , a harsh whistle jars her out of her dreamy revere, causing her to loose focus and crack her head against the cement wall. She inhales a quick breath at the sharp pain reverberating through her skull, accidentally inhaling water before she pushes herself swiftly to the surface.
Choking and sputtering as she grabs the wall blindly with one hand, and her head with the other, Alyssa leaves her eyes closed until she gets her breathing back under control. Blinking stinging eyes against the pale dawn light, a lone bat flutters across the sky, going back to its home, or wherever it’s destination is.
Alyssa pauses to wonder where the bat is going, and what it does outside the brief moment it crossed her path, flitting out of Alyssa’s own story as fast as it flitted in. A second sharp whistle split the air, reminding her that her lap swim time is over, and that it is time that she clambers out of the pool and into her car and then go otherwise about her day.  She, like the rest of the swimmers, drag themselves out into the chilly morning air before rushing for towels and other belongings set on the bleachers to the side of the pool.
Drying first her face with her towel, Alyssa turns toward a flicker of... something... not quite a sound and not quite a vision out of the corner of her eye. But as she pulls onto the road that will take her home to shower before her work day begins, the thought fades from her mind, suddenly elusive as it was before persistent.
She turns the radio down low, as her ears sent ready to be blasted with sound quite yet, and in the rearview mirror something flickers, in and out of existence like the fickle flame of a candle in a gentle wind, Alyssa feels it’s presence, but tucks it away as one odd sensation, in one strange moment, in an otherwise normal day.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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7 days of writing challenge
The idea of writing a whole story is daunting to me, to the point where I get writers block when trying to start a story. So, I am challenging myself to write anything for 7 days. It doesn’t has to be cohesive or part of something larger, but I hoping it will help me break through that writers block and closer to my goal of writing a complete story.
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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And she felt as if she could move mountains
If only she could move herself.
-Linda Howard
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sleepygrldreams · 3 years
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And with her fury
She swallowed the sky
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