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I think it's more like:

Me: I'm actually pretty good at this writing thing

*Reads my own writing*

Me: I am garbage

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lived overseas for almost 8 years now but grew up in Texas, it ain't going away y'all

Reblog if you say "Y'all"

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over a year later, and I am still trying to figure out how this man crafted a moment that was simultaneously endearing, bizarre, heartwarming, hilarious, and oddly existential

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"Hi Barbie!"

"HELLO PUNY FLESHLINGS."

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the closest thing we have to true anarchy in this world is the 10 metre section at traffic intersections where there's no lines painted on the ground, and you are truly trusting your fellow human beings to not let their impulsive thoughts win

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I wrote this yesterday completely off the dome in response to the prompt, with no idea of where it was going, but now all I can think about is the narrator, Ronnie the Z-man, and a squishy alien pallin' around the asteroid-scarred surface of the earth getting into post-apocalyptic hijinx.

Prompt: 61

It had been thirteen days since the end of the world and, all things considered, you were doing fairly well. The aliens had taken care of the zombies only for the an asteroid shower to take out their ships.

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This scene lives rent-free in my head.

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Finwë is like “Of course I love all my sons equally. Right, Fëanor, Falafel and Finances?”

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At first, I was scared. Wouldn't anyone be?

The uncertainty was the worst. Not knowing where the next alien ship would come crashing down was bad enough - my neighbor Clyde's house was completely crushed by one of their hulls - but there being no sense of normalcy in the world hit me at a deeper level, shook me to my bones.

For months, I had somewhat known what to expect. Zombies were nothing new to us. I'd watched plenty of depictions of brainless husks in movies and TV shows growing up. They would stumble around, moaning incoherently as they tried to latch on and eat the brains of the closest person they could find. It was a surprise to find that, when zombies finally did emerge from the ground, they weren't all that different from us. Sure, they couldn't sustain themselves with burgers or sushi, but that was a minor speed bump to cooperative living. Once they realised that we humans need our brains to live, they almost seemed…apologetic. A few quick advances in lab-grown brain tissue later, and we found coexistence possible. An occasional rogue Z-man (their preferred nomenclature) might try and take a bite out of a living human, but all in all, their crime rate was quite a bit lower than ours.

And then the aliens came.

We were never really sure exactly where they came from; their speech wasn't tuned to our ears, and I don't think they had anything resembling ears at all. They didn't seem to hate us, but man-oh-man did they not like the Z-men. We tried to explain that they were peaceful, but our words fell on deaf - well, somethings.

The violence was swift. I don't know if the aliens thought they were protecting us, but all I can say is that they were brutally effective. Many human tears were shed in those days as all we could do is watch, helplessly, as our new Z-friends were vaporised in front of us.

And then the asteroids came.

The aliens had been occupying our air-space with their ships while they carried out their atrocities on the surface. Within hours of the asteroids falling, nearly all of these ships were destroyed. A spare few may have buggered off to another star system to cut their losses, but for the most part, they were gone.

But the asteroids didn't stop there. They indiscriminately bombarded the planet, killing human, Z-person, and alien alike.

I don't know if I should feel lucky to have woken up the next day alive. I was surrounded by death, destruction, a cloud of misery. There were food stores and, remarkably, some potable water, so I could survive.

But as I sit here now on the rotted dock, my feet dangling over the pond near the ruins of my home, I feel hopelessly alone. What am I supposed to do now that -

"AAAEEEOGGGHHHHH."

I jump up, startled, whirling behind me to see…

A Z-man.

He looks in terrible shape, even for a Z-man. But despite the eye dangling from a socket and the half-exposed wormy skull, I recognise him. I'd played basketball with him at the rec centre just a month ago. He beat me at the buzzer that day.

"Ronnie…? Is that you?"

"UERRGHH." He nods and stumbles toward me, arms outstretched in a warm greeting. He's limping badly. I rush forward to meet him -

PEW!

A laser blast whiffs past my head and grazes Ronnie's shoulder, sloughing off some skin. I spin back around in time to see the assailant. It's one of them - an alien. They're on hands and knees on the dock, dripping with water and holding a battered blaster in one shaky tentacle. The indicator on the side of the weapon tells me it's charging back up.

I don't hesitate.

I rush forward, tackling the alien just as they fire again. The blast goes wild as the gun is knocked from their grasp. I scramble to my feet and find myself standing over the alien, looking into their eye-sack. I think they're looking back…

…and they tremble. One tentacle reaches up to hide their face, and their body is wracked with…sobs.

We don't speak the same language - or even the same auditory frequency - but some things are universal. I step back and hold out my hand. The alien slowly looks back up at me, and after a moment, their tentacle reaches up to grab my hand.

"EURGH!!!" I can hear Ronnie's protest behind me. I hold my other hand up in an it's alright gesture. The alien wraps their tentacle around my hand, and I help pull it to its feet-like appendages.

I take a step back, putting myself between these two beings. None of us can communicate with words, but we all share the same feelings in this moment.

Apprehension. Fear. Anxiety. Grief.

But there is no hatred. We have all lost everything, and there's no room for animosity any more.

In place of those feelings, there's something else. A tiny bud of an emotion. I can feel it like a dying ember beneath the coals of our destroyed world, a feeling that, with proper care, could be nurtured into something resembling trust between the three of us.

I beckon Ronnie and the alien towards me, forcing a smile in both of their directions. After a moment, they each take a step forward. That simple act fans the tiny flame…

…the flame of hope.

Prompt: 61

It had been thirteen days since the end of the world and, all things considered, you were doing fairly well. The aliens had taken care of the zombies only for the an asteroid shower to take out their ships.

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felt this post in my bones

hate how so much of adult friendship relies on updates, experiencing your life through pictures and tidbits. we had it good with childhood friends, could spend years and years basking in the same circumstance. now i just float through clouds of strangers, hungry for something solid and warm. yes i carry your heart within mine, yes i see the world through your eyes. but in that very moment i still feel alone, still know it's poor substitute for same room, twin smiles.

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pointless story incoming

As someone who has struggled with anxiety and self esteem in social contexts for decades - and honestly, I've improved a lot in recent years - I still suffer the most in irrational situations.

I was taking the commuter ferry into the city today and quietly getting some work done on my Macbook. A man boarded, sat in the row in front of me, and over the next few minutes, kept glaring over his shoulder at me and muttering something under his breath

At first I ignored him, then I started worrying that my Bluetooth earbuds were losing connection and he could hear my music (a Hades workout playlist, so mayyybe not everyone's cuppa). But no, everything was working fine.

Finally, he stood up and started walking away, but not before trying to confront me.

Irrationally Angry Bloke: I can't take the tap tap tap.

Me: sorry? What do you mean?

IAB: your *mimes typing* is so loud! It's hurting my ears!

Me: *realisation, and fight-or-flight, dawns* Oh I'm sorry! I can move if you like?

IAB: *huffs* well, one of us has to!

And he proceeded to storm off to a different seat, shaking his head.

It's now 5 hours later and I still have no idea what I could have done differently to avoid this bizarre confrontation, other than just like, sit quietly and not get any work done. And mind you, this is a ferry with people chatting, babies crying, the engine sound...

It took a good 15mins for my heart to slow down and it cast a nerve-wracking shadow over the rest of my day. Like I'm just mentally done with society now until I can reset for tomorrow 😵

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Being called "boss" by the guy working at the kebab shop

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if that cat's name isn't Olive I swear to god

why is your cat green?

She’s built different 😌

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5*, didn't talk to me on the ride, only baa'd gently when it was time to disembark from his celestial floof

May the starsheep bring you home

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thank you starsheep, this is better than uber

May the starsheep bring you home