#been drawing more digital stuff lately its nice to have the energy

[sleepvines]

and some doodley slugcats!

#rain world #my art #2022 #so squishyyyy #been drawing more digital stuff lately its nice to have the energy #lmao i post this while sitting on the pause screen of rain world

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 2

WC: 1728

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: mentions of sexual themes, alcohol consumption, past relationships

🧠

You and Laszlo had easily fallen back in your work routine during the first week back. His course load was almost identical to that of the previous semester, and so he didn't mandate that you come to classes like he had during the fall. Even so, you insisted on attending like usual.

Taking your seat at the back of the lecture hall you watched as he moved around the front while he spoke. You were supposed to be sorting through the information cards the students had filled out. Not much was actually getting done, as you were highly distracted. His right hand typically found home in his trouser pocket so as not to draw attention. But his left? You licked your lips. Of course you loved both of his hands, but with his favoring the left side you developed a certain affinity for the limb. Oh what his hand was capable of, you reminisced.

Your sigh must have been louder than you anticipated, as Laszlo’s eyes snapped in your direction. “Perhaps if you are bored you should keep your noises of displeasure to yourself,” he said with a quirk of his brow. His face held a look of annoyance, but his eyes told you otherwise. He knew exactly what you were thinking about based on the sound you made and it amused him to no end. You knew he meant nothing by the harsh statement. He did so to maintain his staunch reputation in front of the class.

Biting your lip you issued a “sorry, professor.” Even from across the room you could see the brief flicker of heat in his eyes at your 'apology'. To everyone else the encounter would probably leave them shitting themselves, but you knew better. Even a small success such as this was to be celebrated in your mind.

You had been hoping that you could push Laszlo to be a bit rougher with you sometimes. He would often restrain himself when you were intimate, but you had an inkling that underneath he was just itching to let go. By no means were you ever left unsatisfied, he made damn sure of that. You wanted to kick things up a notch; you wanted to see what he was capable of.

He cleared his throat. Picking up where he left off, he began “as you can see, within psychology there is no single truth. No one theory that can fully or definitively explain who we are, why we are, or what becomes of us. That is why we must always ask of ourselves the purpose of our nature and our choices. This term will be a glimpse of seeking answers to our questions. In the meantime - you have a quiz on Monday for the parts of the brain and their functions. Do not be late or come with excuses, I do not give makeups often, if ever. Have a nice weekend.”

With that the young underclassmen all shuffled out to go spend their weekend most likely partying, rather than studying. You really couldn’t blame them, as this section of Introductory Psychology was in the late afternoon. As an undergrad you would have probably done the same on a Friday night.

Both you and Laszlo packed up your things from your respective areas of the room. Once the last student was gone he called out to you. “Sara and John want to meet up this evening, would you like to accompany them or do you have plans?”

“Will you be there too, or are you too busy with paperwork and stuff?” He had been complaining of having a list to work through this week with some new documentation requirement the university put out on the professors. You trek down the stairs to meet him by the front desk.

“I think it would be odd of me to invite you out in the event that I would not be there myself,” he quips back. His hand comes to rest on your side.

You hum in response. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

He chuckles at you, “you’ve spent every day with me.”

“You know what I mean.” Peering around to ensure no one was present, you lean up to give him a quick kiss. “What time do they want us there?”

He checks his phone for the text from John. “In half an hour.”

“Then we better get going before he hogs all the pretzels,” you crack.

The two of you made your way from the university to the old pub a few blocks down the road. Students didn’t come here often, as it was geared towards the older and less rowdy crowd. It was perfect for the four of you though. You had even gotten on with the owner, Cyrus, and his niece Joanna, who often worked the bar.

You sat in the booth next to Laszlo; Sara and John opposite you. The first 45 minutes or so were spent going over the events of the past week back. Eventually, the conversation slowed.

“I think I should get us another round. What do you say?” Sara asked the table. You slid out from your side offering to give her a hand with collecting the new beverages. Laszlo watched as you walked alongside her to the bar, laughing at something Cyrus had said to you. You always looked so beautiful when you were laughing.

“So…” John began, getting his attention. Laszlo turned to face his friend. “I heard a rumor.”

“You know I don’t put credence into such things, out with it John.” Clearly whatever he wanted to discuss he didn’t wish to say in front of your presence. Despite his words Laszlo did have some trepidation about the upcoming conversation. Could it be about you? Maybe you two weren’t being delicate enough with keeping the relationship subtle?

John looks over to the bar where you and Sara are still procuring the drinks. “Karen is in town.”

He relaxed at the turn of events. “Ah, yes. She is guest lecturing at the university while she conducts research of some kind in the city.” Laszlo is matter-of-fact in his response.

John studies him for a minute. He looks concerned. “It’s been what, four years since you last saw her? Or have you seen her yet?”

“I have not. Why do you ask?” He brings the near empty glass to his lips to take a sip of the harsh liquid.

“Well, Laszlo, I just mean that you two were serious for a long time before you moved out here. In fact I had figured you would settle down with her. You left her in Austria to come here, after all,” he explains quietly.

Laszlo cocks his head in confusion. “I don’t see how that would be a concern. The dissolution of our relationship was mutual - she stayed in Vienna; I came to New York. We did not want the strain of attempting something long distance and we both came to the same conclusion on the matter. And it has been four years, John, as you so kindly reminded me. I have moved on and I am quite content now.” His tone was nonchalant.

He is happy. You were vibrant, and thoughtful, and he couldn’t say that he had felt this lighthearted in years. His years with Karen were wonderful, but in truth they didn’t compare to what he had now with you. For once he felt hopeful for what the future with you could bring. It wasn’t as strong a consideration with Karen.

John holds up his hands as if to defend his words. “I’m glad for that, truly. She’s wonderful for you and I can see that. I just worry that Karen’s presence might cause a resurgence of emotions or whatnot with you. Sara and I would hate to see things fall apart for the two of you after everything,” he gestures towards where you stand with her. “Are you going to tell her about Karen?”

Laszlo nods in understanding. “I appreciate the concern, John. But I assure you, I view Karen strictly in professional terms now. I look forward to hearing about her studies here as they could be illuminating for my courses.” He sees movement from you and Sara as you begin your return. “I do not see myself withholding information regarding my past with Karen, but I don’t know that I find it necessary to bring it up as of yet.” John’s nod is faint, as though he disagrees but isn't willing to say so. The conversation is cut short by you setting drinks on the table.

You all stay another hour at the bar. Laszlo’s thigh rests against you, his right hand atop your own leg. Occasionally you can feel the way his thumb lightly strokes you through your jeans. He makes it hard to pay attention to what Sara is saying to the group; little bolts of lightning shoot up your leg and to your core. When your legs clench Laszlo doesn’t seem to notice.

Aside from the growing arousal within you, the soft clink of the index finger of his left hand grabs your attention. A steady tap tap tap as he hits the side of his whisky glass. The movement brings you back to your thoughts during his lecture earlier, how the thick digits with their calloused tips drive you absolutely mad when they brush against your skin. You swallow.

This time Laszlo is aware of your state. His eyes shift to you from where he sits to your left. The two of you hadn’t had time or energy to be intimate since that night he took you to Delmonicos. The lack has taken its toll as you give him that look.

Abruptly Laszlo faces the others. “I would hate to cut our evening short, but I have more paperwork to fill out by Monday for the Dean. I would rather get it done so that I may enjoy my weekend. John, Sara.” He nods his farewell as he nudges for you to move out of the booth. You hold back your giggle at his insistent need to get home.

John looks slightly confused with the suddenness of your departure. A look of understanding comes over him with a whisper from a smirking Sara. With a wave the two of you leave into the cold January night.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks

#psychopathia sexualis #the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler fanfic #scuttle-buttle #daniel bruhl fanfiction

[factual-fantasy]

I gots 20 more asks for yalls :}

That’s so something he’d try, but of course everyone around him would stop him because duh, that’s a sure way to lose a finger. XD

Oh, I’m sorry, but due to my energy levels being through the floor, I’m not really taking requests at this time.. <:{

Happy new year to you too! I uh.. wish I could say I did heh..

Thank you! However uh.. I don’t think I’m going to be up for drawing anyone's suggestions. My energy has been completely drained lately and I have no energy to draw anything other than things I personally really want to.

I’m not usually one for live action movies, or particularly scary ones for that matter. But I’ll keep that one in mind. :}

Wh-where you goin?? I didn’t get to say I love you too!

Hi, thank you, glad to hear that you like my headcannons. :}

Although unfortunately I don’t have much to say about what I think would happen after the incident. :{

Perhaps the crew would be a little shaken after hearing about Pesos broken flipper? Injuries like that are a big deal, Peso is basically completely out of commission until he recovers. And that might stress the crew out a bit, you know, not having their medic firing on all cylinders for a while.

And I feel like Peso would have to teach some of the crew, like Kwazii and the Captain some extended first aid because no one knew what to do with his broken flipper. He would have to teach the crew first aid and some other important things because he cant always be there for them when something goes wrong.

I feel like it would bug the Captain somehow as well that Peso broke his arm. Like, he’s the Captain, how did he let this happen? Even though the situation couldn’t be helped, I feel like he’d still feel guilty over it all somehow.

Kwazii would probably hover around Peso a lot too. He’d be so worried for his little buddy and would want to constantly check up on him. He’d probably play games with him, talk, do puzzles, whatever, just to keep the little guy company and help him feel better. Because despite how calm Peso seemed when it was first broken, I feel like it would freak him out later in. I know I would be too scared to move or even look at my arm if I broke it. Just the knowledge that the bones inside my arm are all screwed up would freak me out too much to do anything.

With Peso, I feel like he was calm because he was on a bit if an adrenalin rush, and after he calmed down I bet it really start to hurt. That could be why Kwazii spent so much time with him, he was just upset and hurting and just wanted someone to hang out with him until he got better.

A lot of artists seem to like fanart for some reason. I personally don’t..

It feels kind’a like you stole my character or idea and decided that you were going to do what ever you wanted with it. Which I know isn’t the case but that’s just how it feels.

It doesn't feel like a gift, it just feels like you stole something from me you know?

Fanart just doesn’t feel good to me, I cant understand why some artists like it. And I don’t understand why I don’t like it either, it just feels bad for some reason. Me not liking fanart is why I urge people to make sure the artist is okay with fanart before you draw something for them. <:}

Thank you, its nice to hear that you actually wanted to get all caught up heh.. Yeah I guess I started drawing a bunch of Octonauts stuff out of no where huh? When times get this low you just kind’a slink away into your comfort shows right? S’all normal.

As for going through a rough time? I sure am, we all are. I thought it was rough a few weeks ago, but now things have just come crashing down on me, and I cant even talk about it on here.

Thank you very much for all the kind words and encouragement! I really appreciate it, that’s just what I needed to hear. <:} ❤

I watched it, and man I cant wait to see what they do with that new gup! 

I was going to leave a link to the video here, but when I tried to go to the link you sent me the video had been removed..

As someone who is terrified of bees and other bugs, they better not come back.

Aww thank you! I’m very glad you like what I make! :}

I use FireAlpaca. Its a free art program that is simple enough that beginners can get the hang of digital art pretty easily, but has enough features to make some really complicated pieces. I’ve seen that you can even animate with it although I’ve never really gotten the hang of it..

Its got its weird quirks and there are a few annoying buggy things here and there that take some getting used to, but overall 8/10 would recommend. :}

Its interesting, although I don’t personally hold it as one of my headcannons, I have no issue with anyone that does. :}

Aww thank you, so far its been.. well terrible, but uh. hoping for a brighter future.. 

As for how they’d react to rain? Hmm..

I had this idea that the first time Bulkhead experienced rain he was out somewhere with Miko goofing around. It started to rain and at first Miko was just annoyed, thinking she’d have to go back to the base.

But then Bulkhead out of no where starts to flip out, he scoops up Miko, transforms and speeds away, all the while clearly having some kind of panic attack. He races to a nearby cliff and rushes into a little cave for cover. He’s rattling and is asking Miko questions like, “A-Are you okay? Did it get you?- W-We’re you burned??” Miko gets him to chill out a little and he manages explain why he’s freaking out.

Even after Miko comes out of cover and dances in the rain to show him that its safe, Bulkhead is still too frightened to go out there. He’s spent his whole life being afraid of rain because he knows that it burns you and can even kill you if you’re in it for too long.. So even though he’s being shown right before his optics that, clearly, its safe. That primal fear of rain is too much for him and he doesn’t move. 

They eventually called for a ground bridge and Bulkhead bolted through the rain and raced through it. He told the other bots about rain and how Miko claims that its safe on this planet, but that still didn’t stop them from experiencing that same primal fear when they came into contact with rain themselves.

There was supposed to be another time when Ratchet and Arcee were taking the kids home from the Base. Arcee had Jack and Ratchet had Miko and Raf.

They were almost into town when It started to trickle. Jack was surprised that it was going to rain in Jasper of all places, but he was also annoyed because he was going to get wet. But then Arcee and Ratchet both hit the brakes and freeze up. “Did you feel that?” Jacks about to ask “feel what?” when Ratchet says “Yeah, yeah I did..” Raf asked Ratchet what is wrong, but then the rain really picked up. Out of no where Ratchet starts freaking out, “RAIN!! GET TO COVER!!” Arcee and Ratchet Floor it for town. 

They rush into town and find cover in a run down gas station that’s on the edge of town. Ratchet’s alt form is literally shaking and Arcee is really freaking out. Both of their primal fears making them forget that rain is safe on this planet.

“Are you okay? Jack? Ratchet? How bad are your burns?“ Jacks just like “huh??” But Ratchet goes “I-I don’t know, I don’t feel anything yet, were you burned?” Jack tries to say something but Arcee goes, “No I don’t think so, Jack gave me cover, are you alright Jack? Were you burned?” Finally Jack gets a moment to talk and asks what the heck is going on. They explain that on their planet rain is acidic, Jack then stands in the rain to prove that its okay, but just like Bulkhead they’re still scared.

Miko gets out and jumps around in the rain to show that its safe while Raf tries to explain to them that its really only water. They’re both not convinced and stay put. Raf gets out, cups his hands together and collects some rain water. He brings the water up to Arcee and Ratchet to show them that its just water. He even drinks some of it to prove that its really okay and not acid.

This convinces Arcee and she slowly inches out into the rain, eventually managing to get into it. Although she’s still nervous, after realizing that its safe she encourages Ratchet to follow suit,

Ratchet manages to inch his way out too and they both shakily take the kids back home. They come back to base and tell everyone their story, but again, that fear of the rain cant be reasoned with right away. It takes a bot to experience it personally to help them realize that this planets rain is harmless.

With Bumblebee and Smokescreen it could’ve been just like Bulkhead. Out with one of the kids, it starts to rain, the bot panics and the kid calms them down and explains that its just water. With Optimus, I feel like a human wouldn’t have been around to explain it to him. There could have been a time where he was out on a solo mission and it began to rain.

Like every other bot, Optimus has this instinct to hide from the rain, so he does and finds cover. He contacts Ratchet and tells him the situation, Ratchet tells him that he’s been in the rain before and it shouldn’t hurt him. Optimus is still nervous but he steps out from undercover, sees that its okay and moves on without really mentioning it to anyone back at base. The very same thing could’ve happened to Ultra Magnus later on now that I think about it..

With Wheeljack? Imagine him, Bulkhead and Miko were out driving somewhere, Miko is with Bulk and Jackie is following behind them. It starts to rain and it freaks Bulkhead out a little but he’s mostly okay, Miko reminding him that its harmless. Meanwhile Jackie slams on the gas and swerves off the road into the forest. Clearly no one told him that Earths rain isn’t acidic.

Bulkhead follows him and finds him in his alt form rattling and tucked really tightly underneath a big tree. They’re trying to talk to him and get him to relax but he’s clearly stressed out. Miko climbs out, goes up to him and manages to talk him down. Explaining that Earth is different than Cybertron, and that their rain is not toxic or acidic. Its just water. He calms down enough to come out of hiding but he’s still clearly on edge. He sticks close to Bulkhead and doesn’t talk much for the rest of their trip.

I feel like all transformers, con or bot, had a freaking out over rain moment at some point. Except for soundwave probably, I think he’d feel a liquid falling on him from the sky and not react because it doesn't hurt.

“The Octonauts is a British children's television series, produced by Silvergate Media for the BBC channel CBeebies, and based on the children's books written by Vicki Wong and Michael C. Murphy.

The show follows an underwater exploring crew made up of stylized anthropomorphic animals, a team of eight adventurers who live in an undersea base, the Octopod, from which they go on undersea adventures with the help of a fleet of aquatic vehicles.

Although its technology is fictional, the exotic creatures and locations that the crew encounter are based on real marine animals in their natural habitats. The show's subject matter has been compared to that of Star Trek and Thunderbirds blended with Jacques Cousteau. The show was animated in Ireland by Brown Bag Films for its first four series. The show was renewed for a fifth series in 2018, with Canada's Mainframe Studios taking over animation work.

Two new "movies" have been available on Netflix only since October 2020: The Octonauts and the Caves of Sac Actun (which takes place in a cenote in Mexico) and Octonauts and the Great Barrier Reef (a musical)”

I feel like this quote from the Octonauts wiki does a better job of explaining it than I ever could. :}

I feel sorry for the poor thing. <:{

It was a Gup destined for greatness someday, but because of unfortunate circumstances it was converted into an artificial reef.

Its just like the old Octopod. Destined for greatness, just imagine all the adventures that ship could’ve had with the crew.. But because sea creatures got to it before they could, it was doomed to a life of darkness at the bottom of the ocean. 

I feel bad for those poor Gups and other mechs that just didn’t make it.. 😔

No I still have some bread left over, here  (╯°▽°)╯🍞 Sorry, it might be a wee bit stale.

Oh I bet he gets hurt all the time and tries to play it of a bit so he can keep running around. Usually he does something stupid and gets hurt and he’s too embarrassed to really go to Peso about it. Or sometimes the injury would seem insignificant to him or the pain is tolerable enough that he thinks it’ll just go away eventually.

Maybe Kwazii doesn’t really avoid Peso’s care on purpose? Maybe he could have a high pain tolerance? Like, imagine he does something kind’a dumb and as a result gets his arm got stick under the Gup-B or something. When he frees himself his arm does hurt a bit, but it looks fine to him so he just thinks “eh”. He figures that the Gup-B isn’t very big or heavy, his arm wasn’t stuck for very long, what could possibly be wrong with it?

He comes back to the Octopod and casually tells the Captain what happened. The Captain seeing Kwazii gritting his teeth and holding his bent out of shape arm like that instantly made him turn right around and go get Peso. Peso wants to examine his arm but Kwazii’s all like, “Nah its fine me hearty, Its probably just some bruising.”

Well, put his arm through an X-ray and turns out what do you know he broke his arm in three places.

And Kwazii’s just as surprised as everyone else that his arm is broken. He’s like, “It was only the Gub-B! Is it really heavy enough to crush my arm??” And the Captains like, “The gup was ON your arm?? Of course that can break it!”

XD I bet Kwazii gives everyone a headache.

Thank you! :} And well, its more innocent than you might think. People have wondered if they were self harm hints or something more dark like that, but really its not that at all.

You see, I’m a bit of a clean freak. I usually wash my hands up to 40 times a day, no exaggeration. I would usually wash my hands with dish soap, which really does a number on your skin.

So, washing my hands 40 times a day with dish soap, plus drawing on paper for several hours a day meant that my hands were so utterly dry that they’d bleed. My hands were always bleeding and covered in Band-Aids like 24/7.

All of this was going on around the time I made my blog and designed my little avatar character. I wanted to give my character something unique, like an accessory of some kind. Like gloves, a watch, a scarf, a bag, something. 

Then I looked at my hands and thought you know? What if this strange aspect of myself was added to my character? Its ominous, its unique, it looks cool.. I think I’ll do that.

So now my avatar has bloodied banged all over its hands. Later on down the road today I try to wash my hands a wee bit less and I lather my hands in lotion religiously now. So my hands are much better and don’t bleed anymore. But those bloodied hands are now like a trademark of my character, so I haven’t removed them,

Although with this new uh, “playful” cat I have, I suppose the Bandages now resemble my real hands once again haha.

I looked it up and I didn’t find any info saying that its common or even normal for cats to have just one baby. So its safe to assume that Kwazii must have had at least a few siblings. As to where they are or what happened to them?. Well..

The life of a pirate is a dangerous one. And I find it odd that with how often he’s mentioned his Grandfather, he’s never mentioned any siblings..

Perhaps... they’re.. you know.. dead? Kwazii’s Grandfather could be the last living member of his family. Which is why if he ever mentions his family or his pirate days, he only ever talks about his Grandpa. Maybe talking about his siblings would be too much for him?..

Man, I gotta polish that into a headcannon or something, that stuff is angsty as crap. Imagine if he was attached to the Octonauts in a way no body really understood? What if his old crew was like his mom, dad, siblings etc, and he mostly became an Octonaut because he had no where else to go after loosing them? Now that his family are all gone and his Grandpa is missing, all he has is this new crew. He would become hyper attached to his new crew and all of his care and tenderness comes from a fear of losing them just like he did his real family. 

#octonauts spoilers #my response #octonauts headcannons #transformers prime #tfp headcannons

[bpellerin]

Making time to be you

It's been a little over seven months since I moved out of the extremely busy house where the rest of the family continues to live with a dog and a cat that aren't helping on the keeping-our-space-clean front. And goodness knows help is often required. But.

Seven months, then. In a lovely (if small) brand-new apartment. Really. I'm the first person to live in it. Nobody had peed in my toilets before. It's got brand-new appliances. Nice clean floors. Pure white walls. Granite countertops. It doesn't smell like a dusty old house. It's new and it's clean. It's also clean and new, which as you might surmise I like very much.

It doesn't have much furniture in it either. Just enough. Bed, dresser, night stands, couch, tv stand, table and chairs, bookcase, desk and writing chair, plus a patio set for the balcony. All new. All clean. Everything screams minimalism, and it doesn't scream it loud either because I'm not wild about noise unless I'm the one making it. But not these days; I'm missing a piano terribly, but I haven't yet figured out which brand and/or model of digital piano (you know, the ones you can plug headphones into) I want to get before making a decision about whether I really can afford to get the one my heart eventually settles on. Unlikely if you ask me. I have annoyingly expensive tastes. 

But do you know, I really like my space, which I share with my best friend in the whole wide world and not just because he's neat and tidy although that's kind of crucial. He also pushes me to write (and edit; and like anything related to editing, it's a touch annoying), something for which I can't be grateful enough. And he makes me laugh a lot.

To be tidy and neat and keep the living space almost radically uncluttered is a necessity. I can’t stand noise outside my head unless it’s my fingers hitting some kind of keyboard. The category of “unwanted noise” very much includes the unbearable din knick-knacks, dirty socks, random toys strewn all over the floor and dust bunnies create.

Yes, dust bunnies are loud. You never noticed that?

Physical distractions on the road to human fulfillment are deadly to me. They sap my inspiration, to say nothing of my will to get up and work. I've tried working while I sleep but unfortunately the word counts refuse to budge that way. I really have to get my meat over to the right chair and start typing for any magic to happen.

Which is terribly unfair, when you think about it. But now at least I'm in a physical space worthy of the effort. As I wrote before my move, "I desperately need a quiet room of my own, not too far from my kids but physically separated by a street or two, and a door that locks. A space that stays clean and tidy and where nobody is invited. That’s the environment I need to be able to write."

I've got that now. It's a bit further away than a street or two, but not by very much. I've got the physical thing nailed down. Now it's time to deal with the inside of my own head, or how to make it feel clean and tidy so the real work can get done.

See, as annoying as dust bunnies and clutter are, they're nothing compared to mental distractions when it comes to getting the kind of work done that makes you feel like you're at least trying to justify your collection of cells to the Lord of the Universe, whomsoever he may be.

We all have a purpose in life, and my belief - which is nearly religious in its intensity - is that unless we figure out what it is and get going on it, we'll reach the end of life very unhappy and loaded with metaphysical regrets. Which, you'll agree, is no way to die.

Me, I want to kick the bucket with a clean conscience and a lot of unfinished projects about which I'm still excited even though I can't draw breath without assistance. As long as my mind keeps on going, I'll be busy writing stories. That's my purpose.

Took me an agonizingly long time to figure it out, too. And now, with the zeal of the newly converted, I am trying to play catch-up. Mental distractions have had to go.

For instance, I used to take a lot of time from my days to teach. Everything from math to karate, to the proper way of brewing kombucha at home. I enjoy sharing what I know with people who want to hear it. It's excellent work, and it brings with it a certain glow.

But.

Although it's good and enjoyable, it's not what I'm here for.

I don't teach anymore. Instead, I write. I wish I could do both. I wish there were more than 24 hours in a day. But then, even if there were, maybe I'd need to focus my energies on my purpose regardless.

I don't spend nearly as much time on social media as I used to, even though social media is of critical importance when you're trying to establish yourself online and find your tribe.

It's also fun, but it's a terrible mind-sucker. You didn't need me to tell you that. You already know it too well. I was just reminding myself. For the truth is that if I don't watch myself closely, it's 45 minutes later and all I've done is watch one baby goat video after another. Baby goats rule.

I put fairly strict limits on my social media use. I no longer keep the tab open to Facebook on my computer, and I've stashed the app in a folder with the title "MINDFUL CHECKING" on my phone. It's supposed to act as a deterrent. Having to tap a couple extra times, including once past the word MINDFUL, is meant to remind me that Facebook and Twitter but especially Instagram, are excellent at wasting precious time and not much else.

I thought of renaming the folder "BEWARE DIDDLEFUCK WRITE INSTEAD" but it wouldn’t fit on the screen. Too bad, because it would be the best way to avoid tapping through.

Fitness. I used to spend inordinate amounts of time training my body. It was often three or fours hours a day, seven days a week. Was I fit? You bet. Was I fit enough to justify the time? Probably not. And even if I had been, what would have been the point? To become an Olympic athlete in my late 40s? So that, what, I still can’t find time to write?

I do like daily exercise and I want to stay fit. For one thing, it helps me write. For another, it helps me not kill anyone. But maybe one hour per day is enough. That's what I do now. Just one hour. About the only change I've seen, other than time available for purposeful work, is that I'm not as hungry as I used to be and also not as tired and achy. Ta-da, a better balance thus was achieved.

****

A few days before I moved out last summer I wrote a list of things I wanted to do less of, and things I wanted to do more of. In the first group was cleaning, bitching, complaining, cooking, and other boring stuff like that. In the second column was writing, reading, laughing, and so on.

It's February and the two columns are starting to feel like maybe they're tempted to think about achieving some kind of compromise on that. Sure, there's always cleaning and cooking in life, and no, I'm not planning to hire domestic staff to peel my grapes for me. But I am pleased to have reduced the amount of domestic chores I used to be buried under. I read and write more, and I laugh too. Not quite as much as I'd like. But I'll get there, I'll get there.

I've reached that bit of success by not caring nearly as much about what people thought or said. By becoming somewhat of a sociopath. By not giving a fuck what other people said about my choices. Better yet, by not giving anyone the chance to tell me what they think of my choices because I simply don't hang out with very many people at all anymore. That's another distraction. I pick my friends very carefully, and take the time to be with them as much as possible. But networking and trying to please others by making small talk? Nope. Not anymore.

When I moved out I gave myself two years to get to a spot where I'd be happy. That meant a writing career that pays most of the bills, a quiet happy clean place to live, health and fitness to make me feel good enough to work on the first two goals properly, and a little extra money for travel and a stupidly expensive piano. We're one-quarter of the way through and and so far, I say, so good.

#Writing #purpose #life lessons