the more I write, the less I understand how writing works. I'm writing a brief outline/little bits of scenes for Ch 44 and one character says something and I'm like "wait... didn't I have the character say something about this previously" and I search back in the Entire Story Document, and yes, there's a throwaway line in Ch 17 about this exact character and this exact thing. and holy hell this Ch 44 scene is going to link back to Ch 17 in this tiny tiny character-building way and it's going to look like I planned it, if anyone even notices, and no one is going to know that I pulled it out of my hippocampus years later BUT I KNOW.
HOW DO BRAINS DO THAT
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i'll be honest i wasn't going to be too bothered if lloyd won the poll because like a lot of people on both sides are just kind of having fun and that's like. the point. but i am really annoyed at the accusations of botting just because it feels like... oh we can make an effort and campaign but the second we're actually successful it HAS to be bots? it's the last day, i was always going to make a big push for the last day of the poll, and i'm not surprised other greek tragedy enjoyers reblogged it from us. it feels like the absolute worst faith reading to be honest
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The final assignments I need to finish for my science fair mentorship class are a lot of "Reflect on these readings we did about education and connect them to your own experiences in school" type prompts, and unfortunately reflecting on your educational journey when you are a two-time college drop-out who probably failed a class this semester is not a great time.
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just saw that @theangrypomeranian and @br1ghtestlight give my old Zeke and Jimmy Jr drawing some more love again, thanks, it really make me giggles (theres has to be a least creepy way to say it) (do cis man giggle?) I'm rambling again.
Thankiu especially to @br1ghtestlight cause of course they inspire the piece itself, they just get so well how cheesy and dramtic this two are for each other.
Gods it makes me want to re-do the drawing, or mostly polish it. I just love this two dorks so much I wanna draw them eternally.
And beacuse this turn into a thanks for the suport letter (sorry) I also want to thank deeply to @goldendoodlerlockerlove and @babsvibes, this two are literally always liking even my silliest posts, guys you are truly the bests, I love you all.
@goldendoodlerlockerlove have supported even my rambling posts, thats love.
Wish to could give more back instead of just take. I swear I will strive to bring more and better drawings
(this started as a reblog, can you believe)
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Idk the reason I hate dating is that I feel that I have to learn a whole knew book of social rules and clues, whole my dream is that I would magically find someone that I just don't have to worry about this things, but of course I know this is unrealistic
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Late night musing before I pass out because I have feelings, but I hate what cring culture has done to music. Like, if I said I liked Twenty One Pilots to most people they would straight up bully me and say I'm a "normie". Every time I bring up liking TØP I feel the need to defend myself and my interests. I literally sat here in my head trying to justify my appreciation for the band and their music by being like "oh well I don't listen to their more popular mainstream stuff I really just listen to their deep cuts" like! Why am I having to convince MYSELF that it's ok to listen to music I like?? Especially with songs that were an integral part of my coping process man! I don't really know where I'm going with this, but fuck you cringe culture and music purists.
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i have been very absent from here... my mother (emotionally estranged mother) (emotionally abusive mother) (addict mother) was in the slow process of dying which finally finished yesterday afternoon.
what keeps running through my head is a visitor by mary oliver. for so much of my life i clung onto my anger because that was how i kept the distance between us...that was how i kept myself safe from her. and yet, as she got sicker and sicker, i found myself feeling safer and safer...and by the time she was dying, it was the safest i'd ever felt with her. i knew she couldn't hurt me anymore and i found that i didn't need the anger anymore, so i let it go: "i knew i was saved, and could bear her."
and what i was left with was the profound grief...realizing that i lost my mother when she got hooked on pills/alcohol 15+ years ago. there was a different mom -- a good mom -- a mom i loved -- but i never got her back, even after she got sober again. instead i lived with someone volatile and confusing, who hurt me deeply and made me feel violated and unsafe.
and yet... i looked through a notebook of hers and saw her relapse this summer and saw her circle the pills she was taking every day and write, "is this a problem?" and i saw her slowly lose her grip on reality and become paranoid and angry and i saw her write "my daughter visited. she is awful." and i didn't even have it in me to be mad. it just made me so, so sad.
i've been looking for peace all my life, and all my life i've been trying to get free from her. in a sick sort of way, she has given me a gift by leaving now. because now i can close the book. this is the closest to closure i've ever gotten in my entire life and i know that for as long as she was alive, i would have been tormenting myself (and tormented by her) over this.
i saw a shooting star the night she died - i hope it was her telling me that she made it to where she was going, and i hope that wherever she is now, she finds more peace there than she did here.
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