#I don't think I'll be able to go to farmers market tomorrow

[theirloveisgross]

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[dausy]

I attempted a circus elephant. Didn't quite turn out like I wanted but alls good.

I had a horrible headache since Thursday evening and its finally given way this late morning. I was over it but once it wore off I was able to do a lot of stuff. The weather was great today. I walked outside in a skirt and I was actually warm. Just a couple days ago I was layering up still. I don't think the weather will last. Last year there was a snow storm around this time of year so I'm sure its false spring. I think I do get a bit of seasonal depression. I like cozy cold of Thanksgiving and Christmas but once the holidays are gone I was hot weather now.

I purchased a jean jacket which I've never had before that I can ever remember and I purchased a couple base layer summer dresses to layer with it. I hope they don't look dumb is all. I'm ready for farmers markets and brunch and sitting outside in the warm weather.

I did a lot of backyard work. I mean I guess it looks better but Im no landscaper. I think my neighbors were looking at me weird as I was mowing the lawn. All the grass is flattened and dead and its possible its not even grass but just a web of weeds. But I was using the mower as a leaf vacuum to try and pick up all the leaves rather than rake them. I did rake a good 10 bags of leaves but I don't have enough room in my dumpster. There was also a dead bird D: I had to pick it up. Probably gonna be bugs everywhere soon. I honestly think tomorrow Im just going to buy a ton of soil and grass seen and cover the entire yard. Im aware Im moving this year but I cannot let the sticker/goathead get out of control like it was when we moved in. My dog needs the back yard.

I have some weird work drama too. I always wanna talk about it but Im afraid of privacy issues. My boss bought us sub sandwiches for lunch a few days ago and I ended up being forced to take them all home. Ive been eating cold cut subs for the past 3 days (maybe thats why I have a headache). I gave some to the gate guards and my dog walkers family. Still had a bunch remaining. My dog walker is moving too btw in a couple months T_T my husband should be back by then but still. She said she has a replacement for me if I need it.

I've also posted this everywhere bragging on my spouse. He really did call me several weeks ago like "uhhh can you show me your Lion King collection I think I made a mistake" he knows I like TLK products and collect them but he's as clueless about my collection as I am if he asked me to buy him a gun. Like Idk what to buy. I guess its a little different because I own..a lot...and none of it is on display because we've moved so much the past couple years. So I had to take him into my closet and show him my breakables based on the boxes. I knew he found something online. I just wasnt sure which one it was.

Ive briefly scoured the internet for some sort of TLK 30th anniversary anything and havent found much. So this was a surprise to me. I would have found it eventually (and probably real soon) so he's lucky he got it to me. It was a very nice gift. It looks beautiful on my computer desk. I wish I had some of my other figures out but they'd just have to go in boxes again in a few months. One of these days I'll get a display case.

[kinetic-elaboration]

February 7: Work and Writing

Not sure what to write again today but it's getting late so I need to write something.

I have really reached the end of stuff I can do at work this week. Next week I'll start some new big projects but today was mostly scrounging around doing little things here and there to make the time pass by. I'm so glad I'm only working a half day tomorrow because that's about as much time as I wan to fill, to be quite honest.

The next couple of days are going to have a lot of socializing in them and I need to have good time management skills for once this weekend to get everything done. I'm going out to lunch tomorrow, which will be very nice, I think. Then on Saturday I must go to the Farmer's Market and sit outside for a while and write some story notes and stuff because I've barely been able to do that the last couple of months, with the weather being, you know, winter. But B invited me to see a movie with him that will require some traveling so I'm doing that later in the day. He wanted to spend the whole day together but I'm trying to have self-respect and boundaries etc, especially with regard to my mental health needs. On Sunday, I'm finishing Hey, Sweetheart. Even if it takes me the whole day, of like working up to it and so on, I will do it. Then, another fic will be complete!

As far as writing, I keep thinking that there's some sort of planning or list making I need to do but there really isn't. The plan hasn't changed in a while. I'm getting kind of antsy to see what going back to T100 is like after my first fandom-break in a while, and especially to go back to such an old story. Like my assumption is that it will be excruciating? I don't know.

It's easier to have, like, 'serious' projects that are rather tough--but hopefully still rewarding--when I can balance them with something else. Free writes have sometimes been that balance. And of course the drawer fic. I've been working on it so late the last days that I barely know what I'm doing, and I'm kind of getting to a point where I think I'll be stuck if I don't return to the fantasy and work stuff out. And I've been fantasizing about a different universe recently so that's very... ah ha ha nervous laughter. But it's all right. I do have general ideas for this fic but there's a gap between where I am now, where I'm about to drop off, and what the next desired-scene is. I had sort of an idea for the next one but only for the setting of it, not, like, the purpose. Like I want to use these characters here but to do what? To say what? Eh.

As to whether I will post it... it's been so rough recently that I've been turning away from that possibility again. I might still. I don't know. It will depend on what reaction, if any, I get to Hey Sweetheart (the reaction will be none, just, by the way). So we'll see.

[dzpenumbra]

6/2/23

Alright, I'm coming in hot to this journal, both literally and figuratively. Right off the bat... I need to remember to close my windows because they're going to be spraying for bugs outside in the morning. That means it's going to be hot as fuck in here, and it will likely be hard to sleep because of it. I slept well last night... eventually... I'm attributing that to the box fan, I've always been able to sleep better with them on. But yeah, it might be a tough night/tomorrow because of the spraying factor alone.

Okay, that out of the way... just putting that there to jog my memory when I read this back because I will most likely forget, and that's something I can't forget.

So... I'm insanely emotionally charged right now. Okay, maybe insanely isn't the right term, but like... I'm... experiencing a significant outpouring of emotions right now. And the catalyst, I guarantee, was my therapy session. Now... my therapist was aware of this, and... he apologized. And I immediately came back with "no no no, don't apologize, it's going to be fine." A reflex, I guess? Because in the moment, I felt absolutely fine. ... Well... I was a bit shaky, and tense... and I noticed I kept averting eye contact with my phone and kept doing this thing where I would like... wrap my right arm around myself as a kinda... like "I don't know what to do with my hands" kinda thing? I don't know, I do that sometimes. Especially when shit gets awkward. But like... I didn't feel adrenaline. I didn't feel a burst of acute anxiety. Not like I did just under an hour ago. But... I'll get to that...

In therapy... we talked about work shit. Specifically my idea of maybe doing a booth at the Farmer's Market in my neighborhood. And... he had some pretty big concerns that it would overwhelm me. That it would be too much all at once. And honestly, I think he's fucking right. I absolutely 100% think he's right. So... what the fuck do I do with that information?! Like... okay, if I can't even do that... if that's going to overwhelm me, and I'm forced to do it fucking alone, and I have no one to help even like... teach me the ropes or helping me interact with people or talk me down or cover for me if I'm overwhelmed? I mean... I'm coming from a period of extended extreme isolation and thrusting myself into a situation where waves of complete strangers will be getting in my face and fondling my creations. And the second he expressed concern, I started to push back a little? I guess? I mean... I guess I kinda took it personally a little.

I get stuck in this tug-of-war a lot. Like... on one hand, I'm frustrated that people don't see me as capable of going into public and having a conversation with a stranger. Like... am I so fucking inept that I can't even have a conversation with someone? Is my fear and insecurity of that actually founded in reality? I keep getting this cartoon image of Mr. Magoo or something, I'm referred to that kinda way. And then... on the other side of the equation... what alternative do I have?! What "easing into it" is there? The wording my therapist said was "flooding", he was worried that I would be overwhelmed. And, with my perspective right now, I think he's absolutely right. And if I still smoked cigarettes I might have a bit more resilience with that, or at least have a ticket out of overwhelming situations like that.

So now I'm just going... what the fuck can I do? I've been literally begging people for over 4 fucking years to help me reintegrate into society. To just... go places with me so I can have a wingman in case shit gets awkwardly overwhelming. And every time I've tried to fucking ask for that, people (including several professionals) have acted as though that's too much to ask. As though I can't expect someone else to support me in that way. With a tone that implied (and sometimes even outwardly stated) that it was... unhealthy... or not someone else's job... as though it's my work to do, or something. So I remain in isolation and try to just work on self-control and learning how to sit side-by-side with my anxiety and work together with it, negotiate with it. For years. And try to boost my self-confidence and all that, so I'm ready to get out there on my own. And then... I'm told that if I go out alone, it's going to go bad. So what am I supposed to do?! Where's the middle ground?!

If it's not obvious, I feel trapped. I feel stuck.

And that wasn't even the hard part of the session.

The hard part is a trauma... --- okay, I don't like using the word because of how people have bastardized it and turned it into a mockery of what it was intended to be... but clinically, it's a trigger. It's something that sets off trauma responses, which... I think I've been feeling the past couple hours. As in... several hours after my appointment. Like a delayed fuse.

It was career shit. No big surprise there. And that idea that... ... "you need to find what sells, and do that... and also do what you want to do on the side." Aka... "you need to work two professions." And I expressed very articulately how bullshit it is. That, say... if I wanted to just make bead necklaces, and those sold well... then I can do that. I'm allowed to do that with my life. But if I want to be a mixed media fine artist... I need to also make bead necklaces at the same capacity as the person who is not a fine artist. And I'm saying this straight up. That will burn me out. I will not have a life. That will overwhelm me. Two full time jobs of that caliber, that are that labor intensive, with no support from anyone... it will burn me out. End of story. And I expressed, for the millionth time, how it's absolute bullshit that my cerebral career is not viewed as a valid career, but my mindless one is. The one that takes a special gift is not a valid career path, but the one that people teach children at summer camp is. Again, if my purpose on this planet was to make beaded necklaces, I would only have to apply myself to that one job, and as long as I worked really hard and was good at connecting with the right people, I would be fine. I would not need to take up a second career in deep, intellectual fine art pieces in order to support that career. But... if you flip it around? It's a no brainer.

I'm just fed up explaining this shit to people. And yeah, it's setting off some dark shit in me, I'm feeling it pretty strong now. Gloves are off, fuck it. Here it is.

My work is a reflection of my soul. It is honest, it is as pure and unrefined from the inspiration that I get as I can possibly make it. I have been refining these skills - both in my reception of this inspiration and my abilities to express it - for nearly 20 years. And this, all the myriad of fascinations I have, and the many different ways I try to communicate the things I'm experiencing and learning to share them with others... this is who I am. This is my role, it's my purpose; the closest thing to a point of being on this planet that I have. I deeply struggle to see myself in any other role in society. Maybe a tutor? A creative coach of some sort? I don't know, all this social isolation makes me feel like people just aren't going to listen to me.

That's what I'm trying to get to. And... it's hard for me to get there because it's a hard thought and emotion to engage with. A very powerful one that comes from deep in the bottom of the heart and radiates to the ribs under my pectoral muscles. When I'm being told that I need to do a different career, in order to justify my career... in order to pursue the luxury of my career. I'm being told that society does not have space for me. That I am not valued. That my contributions are not valid. Are not good enough. Are not wanted. I need to be doing something that actually sells. Something marketable. Because, and I said this outwardly to my therapist, because what I currently make is not that. Because what I currently do is not marketable, does not sell, is not valuable enough.

And what critique do I get from others on exactly what about it is not good enough? Fucking none. Fucking no feedback at all. In fact, I would venture to say that... yep, I'd honestly say that every person who has said this shit to me... they don't have a clue what I make. They never watched my Desire Path project that I slaved away on for like 2 fucking months. They never saw my hoodie. They never saw the stones that I polished by hand. They glanced at my necklaces in passing and went "neat". Jaded. What, because you've seen better shit made by a computer?

Dark emotions coming through, I'm kinda... throttling the steam valve a bit here. This is a very deep-seeded issue. Something I have a lot of deep trauma about, that is very all-encompassing. It's a big one. Because it literally puts me in an identity crisis.

Here's the part that fucks me up the most, right? I can go so many ways with what I do. I could be working with ecologists, learning about ecosystems and food webs and evolution and biodiversity and shit. I could be working with gardeners and landscapers, and I guess ecologists too... learning about permaculture and sustainable nature practices. I could be working with the people who are taking care of trails, learning what they do and figuring out how to put my own personal flair on it. I could be giving tarot readings, and learning from those who have practiced that what their philosophies and personal interpretations and methods are. I could be leading guided barefoot hikes in the woods, teaching people about mindfulness and body awareness, as a form of moving meditation. I could be learning how to do wildlife rehabilitation. I could be learning how to be an art therapist. I want to do it all. I want to do all of them. Through the lens of my art.

For so much of my life, I was paralyzed. Not because I didn't know what to do with my life, but because I wanted to do so much. And I was overwhelmed by the options, and had no real connections to make any of them happen. It sunk me in this huge hole for years where I just felt... like I had to declare what I was. Like... I had to fucking choose one. And then... I had this revelation. I can be all of them. If I make my journey, my exploration and learning process, the job. If I make my experience, my perspective, the job. If I do... art. Which I have a... fucking... degree in... as though that means anything to anyone.

My art can be a skate video, and a set of stones that I polished as a metaphoric and literal grieving practice, and an animation of a character that kept showing up in my dreams for years, and a Rimworld playthrough, and this journal. It's all of it. It's... me.

And I offer these things to the world. And they couldn't care less. Which really doesn't surprise me, because... here's the depression talking, buckle up... no one could really care less about me as a person either.

To the people that do read this? I hope that last paragraph didn't feel targeted. I'm honestly surprised, and deeply humbled, when I see people have read it. I'm getting close to a year of doing this every day. And, I've explained this project before, but fuck it, I'll do it again. I have PTSD and a pretty serious lifelong anxiety disorder. Art and music have been ways for me to put myself out there in the world, most effectively through stream of consciousness. And I was in a phase where I was struggling to even post my art on social media anymore. A phase I am unfortunately still in. This journal was an attempt for me to... not only self-soothe? ... I don't know the right word... Untangle the knots in my thoughts? (hey, that rhymed) Make sense of shit, or vent or whatever, just dump my brain and let it do its thing. For better or worse. But taking the step to do it publicly was entirely for my anxiety. To take a leap of faith, every day. And I'm so goddamn proud of myself for being able to do this. The catch to the project? I made a promise to myself that I would only willingly share this username with people who specifically showed a strong interest in it, who specifically asked for the username. People who genuinely cared. Anything else would be people who stumbled upon it. And I only slipped up on that one time in nearly a year, and I quickly course corrected. So... this project is not just a therapeutic tool for me. It's not just a representation of how doing a little bit every day can turn into something massive. It's not just a practice to exercise my stream-of-consciousness muscles - which are toned as shit after almost a year of this, btw... It's kind of a representation of how much impact my true self has on the world.

It's really hard to keep going when it feels like no one cares. Like it doesn't make a difference.

The ripples I'm feeling from getting this stuff ripped open? I don't know if that's a good way of phrasing it... let's be a bit gentler and say "having to engage with these difficult thoughts, memories and emotions". The ripples coming from that? It's this massive feeling of... "oh fuck" at the darkness of the world. It's a huge amplification of the anxieties I normally feel.

I remember saying that earlier this week, repetition is good for remembering shit so... let me say it again. When I get my shit set off, I don't really feel it at a baseline so much... but when normal concerns or anxieties get set off? They skyrocket. It's like gas on a fire. And what ended up happening tonight was... I was watching a stream... and an impulsive streamer who was RPing a character that always pokes back... made a joke that was referencing a Dave Chappelle joke... and it... let's just say it was not the right joke to be making. And he made it out of ignorance, he made it because he heard the joke elsewhere and thought the joke was just... a single layer joke... a funny image and reference that comically fit the situation... but it kinda had a more racial root to it. I'm actually feeling really anxious just writing this. He was called a racist, like screamed at him. And... he legitimately did it accidentally. And I know for a fact that this is going to blow up in his face. Because people are just... a ravenous mob lately. At least online they are. I know I'm not the only one seeing it. It's just people lined up with torches and pitchforks and nooses just frothing at the mouth waiting for the next piece of gossip or the next person to headhunt. I had to leave the stream. I was viscerally feeling the exact anxiety feeling that I was expecting to feel in my session earlier today. It was that like... burning... bubbling... tingling tightness in the chest feeling. And just... "oh this is bad, this is bad..." That kinda shit. The feeling when you know someone's mad at you, and I mean... mad... and you know it doesn't matter what you say. It doesn't matter what you say. That feeling of powerlessness, helplessness. It was fucking saturating me.

Now... this streamer? I don't like diagnosing people... okay, I kinda do... but like... he's outright said very clearly and honestly that he's detached from his emotions. And the way he expresses himself, it's pretty clear to me. And that's a huge part of how he can do his job, how he can do the whole Don Rickles thing - who, in case you didn't know, made a career out of insulting the fuck out of people to their faces, and was a legend. You can't do that if you feel overwhelming emotions like... anxiety, or fear, or guilt. Those emotions just... won't let you. They'll tear you to pieces. In fact, that skill is often developed as a coping mechanism to avoid those emotions. So... watching this streamer has been good for me in like... seeing how he navigates situations where my anxiety or guilt would normally overwhelm me. So I can see how others handle those situations, and how humor can be a helpful tool to navigate that. I'm bringing this up because... I'm trying to figure out how I... was feeling so much sympathetic powerlessness. God, I don't even know the word for that emotion. Vulnerability?

I had theorized for a long time that I have an innate ability to... sorta emit and absorb emotions. But I don't know if that's... literally... or if it's a compulsive sympathetic response; if it's an interactive experience or if it's something contained internally within myself. Isolation doesn't give you a lot of opportunities to test that... I leaned heavily on it being me just... being compelled to put myself very viscerally and experientially in someone else's shoes, without even thinking about it, often without even imagining it... just like... I'm experiencing those emotions with or for them. Then I started noticing, the more I nurtured and got back in touch with my emotions, that when I was feeling very intense emotions... others around me kinda... were compelled to sympathize with me... to share my emotions, too. I have no idea what that function is, I've been studying it for years and I really don't have much of an explanation for it. All I know is... it is... and it happened again tonight. And that feeling... that "oh fuck" feeling... it stuck with me for 45 fucking minutes straight.

I left the stream and immediately went "I need to do something with these emotions". I needed something to... let the emotions go. To release them. So I plugged in my guitar and threw on a MrSuicideSheep playlist and started jamming out with it. And I played some really cool shit, honestly. When I got in the groove, I played some cool stuff. But... every... I'd say every 2 songs or so? That invasive thought kept coming back. The moment that the streamer went through. Like a fucking pop-up ad. Like one of those nagging apps on your phone that won't stop spamming you with notifications. It took 45 minutes for that to start to subside.

Now? Now I want to avoid the stream. In fact, I want to avoid RP in general, to take that momentum and just keep going with it. I don't know, I'm just getting really bad vibes. And the whole story arc he's going on that's all about like... infidelity? And a weird fucked up relationship with an ex wife and hooking up with his lawyer and shit, I don't know. I mean, he's doing it comically but... I just... As funny as his character is, and as witty as he can be, it's starting to just get uncomfortable for me to be around that stuff all the time. And it's this weird... karma feeling. Like putting all this negative shit out in the world, even in a fictional form, and getting negative shit back. I don't know.

Honestly, after a day like today? That's the biggest take-away. I don't know. I just don't fucking know anymore. And the tarot reading last night really didn't help.

I feel like there's a really big change coming and... it's scary. And I honestly? I feel the pressure. I feel like I have to make a change in my life or else... things aren't going to change. And I don't know what that change is. And I feel like every time I propose an idea that I feel comfortable with, someone else weighs in on it and talks me out of it. Meh, maybe I'm just feeling like that. I don't know. I guess I'm kinda in existential crisis mode.

It's been building for a few days now, yeah?

Just to make it better... With all this going on today, I didn't text the family friend back. I have officially accidentally ghosted him. I'll make a note to myself to text him back tomorrow and put that on my computer desk. I don't like feeling guilty about this, and he probably doesn't care, but... it will help me feel better.

Good lord. Intense emotions tonight. I'm honestly... hesitant to do a tarot reading tonight. I don't want more bad news. I feel like I'm just going to draw "Bad person comes into your life and fucks you over and your life is over, tough shit" or something. XD Or like... "you're going to go into a situation super hopeful and prepared, but someone close to you is going to talk you out of it and then you're going to be in purgatory for the rest of your life." Or some shit. I don't know. Ugh. God, even my worst case scenarios sound lame! This is such a hard thing to convey in text. I mean it! If you deal with like... super intense anxieties and shit, like what I'm describing right now... like I really do not want to read tarot right now, like the best way I can compare it is... the feeling I used to get when I had to take my trash out to the end of the road at my old house in the woods at 2 AM when I had no floodlights and no flashlight. That feeling. If you deal with that too? Try writing down what you're actually scared about. That's what I just did, and it looks silly. XD Because what I'm reacting to is the feeling, this intense overwhelming sensation... like a gut instinct that something bad is going to happen. But when I try to translate that feeling into actual real-world scenarios, real-world outcomes... the reaction to those scenarios pales in comparison to the dread I feel. That doom feeling. Because that emotion, that sensation, that alarm system... it's... how do I say this in a way that's fair to me. I mean, it's literally overreacting, but that has subtext attached to it. The emotional signal being sent is stronger than the fear that I actually have. And it's just a protective mechanism trying to keep me safe from harm. Because, for me... emotional harm is very very similar to (in some ways worse than) physical harm. The double-edged sword of being an emotionally... what are we calling it now... emotionally intelligent? Feels arrogant. Emotionally... connected? In-touch? Person. A sensitive person. Yeah, whatever you wanna call it.

Ugh, I've been rambling for so long now. Here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to do a tarot reading. Cuz fuck it. And I'm going to make myself some ice cream to go with it. That way, even if I get bad news? At least I have ice cream. XD

Past - Queen of Swords, inverted (Facing/revealing the truth with dignity and poise.  When giving - phrasing critique tactfully, when receiving - openly considering perspective.) Present - Page of Cups, inverted (Pure emotion. Innocence, wearing one’s heart on their sleeve. Channeling one’s inner child.) Future - Five of Cups, inverted (Loss, regret, sorrow, grief.)

Oh boy. Two consecutive days of getting some of the toughest cards in the deck. Makes you wonder if... it's a reflection of life? Or if I'm reacting to the cards... Who's to say?

All inverted, which makes this... nice and complicated. So... again... I always get really off-put by inverted cards, mostly because of how many different interpretations I've heard on how to read it. Some say "it means the opposite of the symbol"... i.e. The Devil is a symbol of temptation, so inverted would mean... a resistance to temptation? I don't know. Some say inversion means the symbol is coming from the outside world, someone in your life, and is interacting with you that way. So... like... someone near you would be tempted, or is struggling with self control regarding you. Like, you are the focus of it. The two that I settled on for a bit are... that inversion means that the symbol is present in your life, but is dysfunctional... or that the symbol is presenting itself to you, but you are rejecting it. I guess... it all depends on the context within the individual's life, right? I mean, it could mean any or all of those, right?

This is the tough part of being self-taught... not just with this, but in general. You ask these questions, but get no answers... XD But hey, maybe there aren't "right or wrong" answers here. So... I'm just gonna wing this and see how it goes. Hardcore mode, activated.

We're starting with Queen of Swords inverted in the Past/Catalyst position. I see this as like... the reading itself is a thread that runs through my life... like the Greek Moirai (or Fates) that weave our destiny, and this is one of the threads. This one, the inverted Queen of Swords is the starting point. And this can be read a few different ways. The symbol is... a harsh truth. And facing that truth with dignity and grace. And the inversion here clearly shows a problem. The possibilities I'm seeing are... someone giving a harsh truth to me (like today in therapy) and me receiving it well... or maybe not? Or... in the past, me being the deliverer of harsh truths, and... not really delivering it as well as I could have. Since those are both clearly present symbols in my life, it's hard to discern which, so... I'll see if I can connect the dots with context.

The thread connects to the inverted Page of Cups in the Present/Reaction position. The Page of Cups is childlike innocence, in the presence of a raging storm. The picture is a young boy navigating with a map on a ship in violent seas. It's a symbol that I have lived a lot in my life, that was present at some of my highest moments. Before I locked eyes with the darkness of the world. I relate to this card a lot, especially tonight. Like the tone shift in the stream. When it was just jokes and humor, then the darkness of the world hit and I went "oh fuck, I know what happens next, I've seen this before" where an innocent child would go... "oh, that was awkward, okay, next?" Unaware or dismissive of what could happen, which has been learned with worldly experience. Though... to be fair... I don't think this card should be entirely read as naiveté, but also a youthful courage, being unfettered by the anxieties and panics of the raging seas of experience.

That thread connects to the inverted Five of Cups in the Future/Result position. I'm just kinda improvising the /____ at the end of Past/Present/Future because... I think it's important to stress that this thread isn't just... temporal... I try to read the narrative as causal. Like a cause and effect chain, with time keeping order. Because terms like Past and Future can sorta... be confusing to me as like... referring to Now, when the entire thread could be something that has already happened, or is yet to happen. Just... yeah. Notes to self. Anyway... Five of cups, inverted. Five of Cups is one of the toughest cards in the deck. Some would say harder to get than Death, or even The Tower. But I guess it all depends on what hits you the hardest. For me, Five of Cups... the second I looked at it? It looked familiar. It looked like art I have drawn. Many many pieces I have made over the years. I had a theme since college of painting and sketching figures that were sitting slouched over with their heads in their hands. Or sitting solemnly and sorrowful on the edge of a building, or by a pond. Usually perched on something, more often than not with their head in their knees, or at least holding their knees. Like this one from about 2 months ago:

Five of Cups is a card of loss and grief. And the suffering that comes with it. But this card has a silver lining to it, at least in this deck. I'm actually curious to see other decks to see if the symbol carries the same optimism. The Cups suit is a narrative, a journey, and the Five is... about halfway through it? Grief is far from the end. In fact, I got Six of Cups the other day, which was about... nostalgia, learning from the past, reflecting on it and building a better future. Which is a huge step in overcoming grief. This card has three spilled Cups, but two upright, one carved with the rune for hope, one with the rune for endurance. What I immediately get from this card is... being stuck in grief. Being stuck in glass half empty and not being able to find the other two cups needed to move on.

So... with that said... let's try to connect the dots. When I get given harsh critique and I can't find a way to embrace it gracefully... (or, conversely, when I give critique in a way that isn't especially tactful) it has a tendency to lead towards... a blockage between me and my inner child. The childlike navigator of the storm that knows how to follow my heart. And this blockage... leads me to being stuck in sorrow. Being stuck in loss and grief. I mean, good lord, isn't that exactly what I described from today?

When I get told I have to "find what sells" or shit like that, the stuff I was attributing to The Emperor a few days ago... and I... I react in a way that sends me into panic mode... It blocks the thing I need to ease that. My inner child is hiding away. Why the fuck would my inner child come out and play if I don't feel safe. And when I feel like my identity, my fate, my purpose is under threat... (which is an overreaction, by the way, just... want to point that out for myself) when that alarm bell goes off in my head, my inner child goes into hiding. And my protective parent comes out and starts negotiating and getting outraged and ranting and shit. As though anyone who read this far into this needed that pointed out... XD And what this cycle leads to is... getting stuck in sorrow and grief, and not being able to find my way out.

So... how do you find grace... when you are staring some of your deepest lifelong trauma in the eye? I mean... there are a few ways to approach this, right? I just thought... how do I tip that Queen of Swords upright? But I can adjust the Page of Cups too. There are options here.

A big theme of this book I'm writing here? XD As much as my cognitive brain wants to think it's a clever, educated, capable guy... this is a matter of the heart. This is pain. This is grief. This is trauma. And, as I've proven earlier, it's deeper than logic. It's deeper than strategy. So... instead of frantically trying to find a solution to this matter of the heart right now... I'm going to let go a little and say... seeing that I have options to work towards - seeing visually this cycle of being told very difficult things, and how it incapacitates me, and where that leaves me... seeing that I have several ways of approaching it. Whether it's working on finding grace, or learning how to demonstrate to my inner child that it really is safe right now, or remembering that there are two cups left, and this will pass. Whatever it may be? I have options. And this pain and fear, this sense of dread and hypersensitivity is temporary.

Good lord, is this fucking journal entry heavy enough? XD

Here's some lighter fare to end with at 5 fucking 30 AM. So much for the sleep schedule fix! XD Welcome to PTSD, there was no way I was sleeping when it was still dark out in that mental state anyway. I did some more work on the skull, it went well. I just said fuck it and started inking and it actually looks pretty good. There's not much left to do. I did a really good workout today on top of a new yoga routine, completely unprompted, so that was cool. And I tried to dye the red beads a bit but... it went... not as planned. I wanted to just dye the ends of them a bluish tint and let it bleed in, so it kinda fades from red to blue on the ends... but... it was too desaturated and it just didn't do what I was planning at all... So I just gave them all a thin desaturated coat of the blue. And... I don't want to say it looks bad... It just looks much more subdued and... organic than before. Which, again... it's not bad, even though my instincts want to say "I ruined it, what have I done, nooooo"... they're still nice, honestly. The blue somehow brought out the woodgrain in some of them... somehow? And that added a cool effect to it. And I can always add some lighter detail to them on top to kinda... offset how kinda dull the color is now. But in the end, I am glad I subdued that color a bit. It was a very loud orange-red, this is much more like a stone you would find in a river or something. I'm cool with it.

One last thought before I go to bed. I have been thinking of making my own Tarot deck. And I've had the thought in the past too, and even started working on it. But I always put it off because I "want to get to know the cards better". At two separate stages of life, I have tried to study and make a tarot deck. The first one I designed the first 4 cards. The second one, I studied the entire Major Arcana, and the suits of Wands, Cups and started with Swords. Now... I'm re-doing that study and doing it with a new deck, through random draw, and I started doing that last Fall. I'd like to at least complete my study before drafting cards. With a project that big, I want to do it right.

Just wanted to share my intentions. This project may be well in the future, but it would be a really nice accomplishment someday. Time for sleep.

[thebittercorvus]

When I tell you it, honest to god, begun as a joke, I mean it for real!

Y'know Santos? The paramedic. Five foot three and is missing a finger? Nasty aim? Wait, you probably know him as the dude that got in a fistfight with the cop and got detained instead of the patient. See! Told you you knew about Santos. Anyways-- oh, you really wanna try that marmalade? I mean don't get me wrong I'm sure Dr. Humboldt's husband is a dear but when she said that he and the kids were uh, what was it, experimenting with potions? Yeah. Yeah put that back darling I'm on duty tomorrow, I don't wanna deal with yet another case of food poisoning by glitter mayonnaise.

Where was I? Oh, Santos! You're right, you're right.

Anyways, the dude said he missed his hometown's farmers market so much, that he'd apologize to the cop if he ever got to be in one again! And like, one of the nurses really has beef with the guy.

Like I said, an honest to god joke.

However, the police department and some assholes-- I mean wealthy contributors-- What? The supervisors are gone?

Oh!

Yeah so, some nasty fucking pigs ratted us out. It wasn't even that big of a market, and y'know, it was sort of fun for some of us. I didn't know Adelaida knew how to bake bread! What?! You haven't tasted Adelaida's bread?! What are you doing here! Go buy a loaf, those are the first ones to sell out! I'll be right here when you're done. Don't you worry. I think my brownies might be a hard sell after the shift we had today...

... Oh! You're back? See, told you you wanted that bread.

Anyways where was I? Oh, right. So, after the police literally destroyed our hard work, right? Some people got really, really mad. It was harmless fun! And it was super cheap too, a lot of people that wouldn't've been able to afford their meals that day was able to eat something. I personally handed over like a dozen of packed meals for what, a sneeze. No, don't sneeze, we'll call the nurse. Don't sneeze no don't-!

... We good? We good. Alright. Thanks for not sneezing, you'll attract all the nurses in the basement. Bought an apple yet? That's a joke, of course we're not selling apples here.

Right, that's why we're in the basement. Nobody knows we're here. It's like a secret society of glitter marmalade, homebrew beer, cheapass meals and brownies that the bioanalysts don't wanna get near to. Ruined some tubes, so what, they get discarded by the dozen anyways.

Yeah I mixed everything in the labs, and I cooked it in that fancy microwave. What's the deal.

Anyways wanna try the brownies? I promise I mixed everything with a clean pipette.

... I think.

I mean, if something happens, you're already at the hospital!

Deep Water Prompt #3048

The hospital I’m working at now has the kindest doctors, but it also has a secret. Once a month, down in the basement, on the blackest of nights, they hold a farmers market.

[baeklination]

Room 4

Date: 210621

Warnings: SMUT🔞, masturbation, mouth-fucking, standard fucking, voyeurism(-ish?)

Pairing: Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 1, 9k

Masterlist

¤¤

You whistle in jest when he comes out into the kitchen.

"I thought you were going to a fundraiser, not a hedonistic sex fest…"

Baekhyun's clothes are perfectly fine to wear where he's going, but he always makes things extra fine; his thin v-neck, nonchalantly tucked into the front his black leather trousers; a simple black blazer for a bit of class - and two silver necklaces for a little pizzazz. He's had a thing for the darker tones since he dyed his hair gray.

"If you don't hurry up I might bolt the door shut so you can't get out."

"As if you're not dying to have a night off", he smiles into the mirror, meeting your reflection while tidying his hair.

"I was..."

You can tell when he gets a feeling, just like now. He looks you straight in the eye - albeit via mirroring - with the tiniest narrowing of his eyes.

"Sleep in four tonight."

You lean back, happy.

"Phone..?"

"Off."

"Do you know what time you'll be home?"

"No. Late", he says, going to wiggle his feet into his shoes. "But don't stay up too long."

"I won't. Maybe I'll read Lee's dissertation on why dadaism really is the true impressionism…", you snort.

"Ooh, I know how you've been waiting to get your hands on that riveting read..!", Baekhyun jokes and gives you a kiss goodbye. "See you lat- tomorrow. Eight?"

"That's so long", you frown. “But okay.”

His delicate fingers push gently on the nape of your neck when he kisses you again.

"So touch yourself", he moans into your mouth before pulling away and leaving.

Having to wait until tomorrow to see Baekhyun isn't much fun, but knowing it's number four - actually - knowing that makes it worse, makes your underwear soaked as you keep replaying what you did last time:

“Where will you be?”

“I know you’ll keep looking over if I tell you”, he says. “You don’t know I’m there, remember?”

You skip clothes altogether save for a white satin robe; there isn’t much point in getting all done up when it’s coming off so quickly. And besides, Baek will no doubt assume you’ll be wearing something, panties at least, so he’ll choke when he finds out you aren’t.

You’re a bit jittery - pleasing yourself when you know he’s watching makes you a bit embarrassed, but it’s also what arouses you. Thinking about his cock getting so hard he has to release it and pump with a steady hand, careful not to come, as he looks on makes you slick and you can feel it as you walk around. You take a calming breath and open the door.

Luckily, you turned the light on beforehand, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see a thing. And trying to look to see where Baekhyun might be hiding would be impossible - it’s near pitch black in your garden. You give the daybed a shove so it stands by the wall and prop some pillows up before you lean back, play-acting as if you’re just having a quiet night in. You don’t have to look to know how swollen your clit is, how the thick strings cover it and everything else. It may have been Baekhyun’s request - but it’s your pleasure. Putting on a show for him, you pretend to be a little coy. Pretend you’re embarrassed at being so aroused you HAVE to touch yourself. The truth is closer to you by now having to pace yourself, closer to your core pulsating - almost hurting - ‘cus you want it so bad.

You undo the knot on the robe and let the thin fabric fall from your shoulders to expose your breast. Your nipples are hard pebbles in your fingers, sending jolts down in between your legs as you stroke and pinch them. For him you wet your fingers, pushing them in and out of your mouth a few times before circling your nipple again. You can’t wait any longer. You spread your legs and caress your thigh downwards with one hand, the other still stroking your breast, and pull at your folds for Baekhyun to see the state you're in. Lightly you run a finger over your ass. You’re wet all the way down. Reaching under one of the pillows your hand finds the treasure you’ve put there previously; smooth, metallic silver - a perfect fit in your hand. Without any playing around you put it to your entrance and watch as the top slides in. Your hips lift instinctively as you drop your head back and let the dildo fill you completely. There is no resistance at all, you can easily hold it with just two fingers. Almost completely lost in the moment your first thought is that you’ve turned the vibration on, but see the lit screen on your phone when you look down. A text from Baekhyun: “Call me, don’t say anything. Put me on speaker.”

He picks up, saying nothing, so you put the phone by your legs and continue. You put a little extra volume in your moan to make sure he hears it; Baekhyun gets excruciatingly turned on by everything that has to do with you masturbating. Knowing he’s out there listening to the wet sound of your pussy, agonizing over whether to control himself or to just let himself go and orgasm makes the dildo a rather futile replacement. But a replacement nonetheless, so you turn the vibration on - jolting with a moan - and push it up to touch your sweet spot over and over, your chest rising higher, hand squeezing your breast harder. You put it on max and thrust as quickly as you can. The muscles in your ass tighten until you’re pushed over the edge, shaking, muscles going on and off without control as your orgasm pierces through you, stopping your breath in your throat.

You ride it out, even more fluids running out and look at your phone: Baekhyun’s ended the call. And no wonder - you can already hear him tearing through the house. He opens the door, his torso already naked and shakes his head with a smile as he walks up and pulls the rest off; his cock barely sways, that’s how stiff he is.

“How was it?”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes in appreciation and forces his cock down for you to take it in your mouth. Holding your head in his hands, he fucks you. Not violently, as if trying to get a gag reflex, but unhurried, because what he wants today is to be in your mouth, not have you choke and stop.

“Oh, baby…”, he moans, stroking your hair. “Oh, baby, you looked so pretty.”

His length fills you comfortably, lets you appreciate the veins and smoothness, the hardness contrasted by the bounce of the head, pre-cum brushed out on your tongue.

“I know you just- mmh...I know you just fucked yourself, but I’m gonna be a bit rough...”

You meet his eyes to tell him it’s okay. It’s more than okay - who wouldn’t want a man who loses his shit over you?

“Just bend over here.”

The daybed is lower than your kneeling position, so you get a natural arch in your back with your ass high up. Baekhyun groans with pleasure when he gets down behind you, eyeing the bottom of your swollen clit and drenched holes.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty…”, he says, and fills you up with his cock.

Different from before, where he wanted to be wrapped up in every bit of sensation, this time he pounds, pulls - practically claws at - you. It takes a lot to brace yourself, even with him holding you, but you don't mind - on the contrary - because you know what's going on in his mind when he's like this: "...as if I just have to come in you. I need my cum to be in you."

"Ah, shit… Aish…"

He pulls you back, arm around your neck, pulling on your waist to meet his shattering thrusts as he finally gets to orgasm.

●

You're already wide awake and waiting when the clock strikes eight. The day is like the room: gray and beautiful. One of those days you'd drive down to the Farmer's Market and pick up homemade foods like bread and marmalade to cosy down with back home, safely sheltered from the rain undoubtedly on it's way.

You get a jolt when your phone buzzes. It's a snippet from Baekhyun, four seconds of him stroking and slowly pumping himself, hard as a rock. That's all it takes - would take if you weren't already ready. You make a painting of yourself, laying on your side, letting the blanket drape off your legs, just about showing a bit of cheek.

When the door opens you keep looking out the window. A gust of cool air hits your back when Baekhyun lifts the blanket and presses himself up against you.

“Good morning”, he whispers with a voice still husky from sleep, pressing his groin against your ass.

“Morning, B.”

“I’m throbbing”, he groans, dragging his teeth on your neck. “I want you so bad…”

You press yourself closer to him, press his ass closer.

“Why didn’t you come in last night?”

“I did.” His breathing is so heavy behind your ear it’s only a matter of time before it gets damp with condensation. “The window. Look at it.”

It stirs deep in your core. Right in front of you there’s a translucent white stain, having dried in the midst of running down the window. So he was here last night. Probably pretending he wasn’t going to do anything, that he just couldn’t help himself when he saw you; he had to inch down those leather trousers and stroke himself. You could just imagine him leaning against the window while you were asleep...

"What got you so hot and bothered, Baekhyun?"

"I was thinking about how you couldn't keep your hands off this tight little pussy last time you were here…"

"If you'd come home earlier last night…", you say, opening your leg over his, feeling the cool air hit your juices.

Baekhyun runs his hand down your thigh.

"What did you do?", he asks in a deeper voice and slaps your pussy.

You yelp from the exhilarating pain.

“Always so dirty when you think no one’s looking...”

He nearly swallows you with his sloppy open-mouthed kisses before he moves on top of you, putting one leg over his shoulder, letting the other one rest between his legs. Holding on to your thigh, the angle allows his pelvis to push his cock deep inside, the head continuously landing in that pocket of pleasure: light as air, yet full at the same time.

“Don’t stop…”, you whisper faintly, stroking your breasts as you feel his thick length fill your inside over and over. “Fuck… Don’t stop, I’m gonna come...”

Baekhyun moans, picking up his speed, driving himself in hard and towards his own edge, but you get there first; the muscles in your lower body lock, spasming, to the beat of your chopped up whines. Baekhyun, being right after you, pulls you up to a half-straddle; leaning backwards on your arms you pray your shaky legs won’t give out from his pounding. Luckily, he trembles.

“Mm, baby...fuck”, he moans, keeping control of his tempo until he pulls you down on top of him, pressing tightly.

He lays his head against your forehead for a moment, before turning your face up to kiss you.

“Let’s stay in here today.”

[m-jelly]

jelly you told me too and I couldn't help it!

Dearest Levi,

do you remember years ago when we first got together? It was quite the mess, wasn't it? I had all these wonderful plans for us and thought maybe you didn't want the same.

Silly me. I know you have a hard time with these things. At that moment I couldn't see through the act. I'm so glad you were able to come around so quickly.

Reading your letter had me in a happy fog all day. I almost couldn't wait until you showed up, without running towards you instead. I'm happy I waited though, since you seemed to like what I was in when you showed up. Can I tell you something? I had some help with that outfit. I still had a lot to learn, then.

I was so happy that we didn't wait long to make it official. Selling our own places and moving into the quiet home on the edge of town together. Took you forever to agree to a cat, but you love him now.

I love going out with you and also staying in. You always make me so happy. Whether letting me get all the things at the farmers market that you used to roll your eyes, to then helping me bake with what we buy in the kitchen and not complaining about the mess I make. Not much, anyway.

Whether it's a lazy morning in with lots of cuddles that now you ask for more than I do (don't deny it) or a hectic morning with one of us running late and having to help the other into work clothes and make lunch, every morning I get to wake up with you makes my heart beat a little faster.

And now, here we are. It's been 3 months since you asked me to marry you. You were so creative and made me cry so many happy tears. I think I asked if you were really okay with this, but everything I did is hard to remember as I was so focused on you. But you made your case for marriage being what you want too, and I've been so excited.

Tomorrow we send out our invitations. I'm glad we're keeping it relatively small. Most big plans are almost done for the event, the honeymoon, my dress. Hope you're ready to help with the finishing touches. If it's too much, I'll have the girls help narrow it down and we'll just pick between two.

I just wanted to write to you so you always know how I was feeling at this very moment. I don't know if there even is a word, but we'll go with over the moon. You are my everything Levi, and I can't wait to continue our life together. I love you, sweetheart.

- Eliza

Darling Eliza,

You are just the sweetest brat ever and I am so glad that I wrote that letter to you so long ago to confess how I felt. I have to admit, I was terrified that I hurt you too much for you to let me into your home, heart and life. You mean more to me than you know. Truly. I will never let fear enter my heart again when it comes to us because it delayed us getting together as a couple. If I hadn’t fucked up and slowed this down so long ago…the mind wanders about where we’d be. However, I’m glad it worked out the way it did because we found a new way of communication. I love letters.

Don’t ever call yourself silly, you little brat. You’re not. You’re charming, beautiful, smart and wonderful. You opened up your heart to me and I practically shit myself. If anyone was silly, it was me. You did and never have done anything wrong. I have a lot to learn still, but I’m glad you’re with me every step of the way because there’s no one I want more at my side.

That outfit is still a favourite of mine. I love it when you wear it to surprise me. I know I’m supposed to take it off, but you just look so fucking stunning in it that I just like looking at you as you wear it. You know, I had no clue someone helped you into it. I’m a little jealous that someone helped you, that they saw you, my Eliza, in that way. However, it’s rather cute. I can just imagine you ow getting all flustered about wearing it.

Why wait? We love each other and we’d been so close for so long. To me, it made sense to get our house together as soon as possible. I love our house. I like walking around and seeing all the little things that are you in there. Reminds me that you are mine, no one else’s. We just had to be at the edge of town, you know how I like my peace and quiet. Plus, I get you all to myself. Well, not all to myself because of the cat. I do love him, but I must confess I get jealous of him. It sounds so stupid writing that and reading it back, but it’s true. I’m fucking jealous of the cat sometimes Eliza. That cat climbs all over you, sleeps on your lap and cuddles up to you. Should be me. However, I respect the fuzzball because of how it loves you and I love you too.

I love making you happy darling, but those farmers markets? There are some stuck up pieces of shit there trying to prove a point that they are a gift from whatever fucking thing they believe in. Now I know you’re going to tell me off for thinking the worst of people I don’t know, or for swearing my ass off, but I know deep down you agree with me. They do have some great fucking tea at those markets, so I’ll give the organic weirdos that. You better not stop baking though. I love your baking. Don’t worry about the mess. I clean up all the mess in the house, because cleaning is my thing on the chores list. I love cleaning so much. Oh, but I don’t love cleaning more than you. You always come first.

I’ll admit darling, it’s my fault we are late to work so often in the mornings, but can you blame me? You’re so damn adorable in the mornings that I just want to cuddle with you. Nothing is better, in my mind than waking up next to you and being able to hold you and kiss you. I used to be shy, but not anymore. I know what it’s like to almost lose you because of when you confessed to me for the first time. I won’t ever lose you. So, I have to shower you with love with every chance I get. So, fuck it. We’ll keep running late in the mornings.

I was shitting myself when I asked you to marry me. I thought maybe you were going to get your revenge a little and pull a prank on me and say for me to get the idea out of my head. I know you’ll say you’d never, but you’re good friends with Hange and that four eyes weirdo lives to tease the shit out of me. I saw you two talking a lot before I asked you to marry me. You made me so happy when you said yes. Best moment of my life. I’ve always wanted to marry you, so don’t think for a moment that I don’t. I set everything up so perfectly. I planned it all because I really wanted you to say yes and you deserve the world.

Small weddings are for the best darling Eliza. Big ones mean mess and I hate mess. As for the wedding planning, give me more things to do. Remember Eliza, I told you that I want to be fully involved with the wedding plans. I love planning this wedding with you. The only thing I didn’t want to be involved with was the wedding dress because you wanted it to be a surprise, and so do I. So, give me all the work you can. You work way too hard, so let me help you out.

I love these letters and I want to keep them as a regular thing in our lives. They help us understand each other, and when we’re old and wrinkled we can look back on these letters as perfect memories. I just want to grow old with you. I want to hold you in my arms until our last breath. I love you. I love you forever and always sweet brat.

Love your very excited and soon-to-be husband,

Levi x

[pbandjesse]

I wish I had off tomorrow. But I have a short day at the Museum. I feel kind of nauseous right now I'm just very sleepy. What today was still a nice day.

I slept okay last night but I wasn't thrilled to get up. But I got up not long after James was doing his exercises. And I got dressed and he made us biscuits. We kind of hung out while we ate and then went to the farmer's market.

It was a nice day. But there was too many people there. About Farmers Market always stresses me out. Too many lines. So we just got donuts. My leg hurts so I went and sat down and waited for James. And we shared our Donuts. They were blueberry and lemon with powdered sugar. I like looking at the flowers but we didn't buy anything else. We started walking up towards the monument to get the circulator.

I ended up running into to James's friends. Grace and David. I love them. They are so anti-capitalist. They don't buy anything and they have flip phones and it's just so funny to me. I love that that's just who they are but not something that they talk about. Like it's not in your face but like it's very obvious and I love that. They're also very sweet. We talked to them for a few minutes. They were painting benches. But we let them get back to work. And walked over to the monument to say hi to James's dad.

We talked to him for a little bit. It's always nice to see Tucker. And then we went to wait for the bus.

The best took a while but it was nice out and I like being outside with my boyfriend so that was fine. We went up to Giant. My legs were hurting and I was a little son tired but we made it. I got some snacks and sauces. James got a few things. And then we went over to his parents house to say hi to his mom.

Her face bruises were not as bad as I was expecting. Apparently they were really bad the first two days but the fall didn't completely break her face and that's very good. His sister was there too and it was nice to see her. And then his mom was nice enough to give us a ride back to his house. Which was extra good because I was very tired.

We got back to his place on packed. I have cheese and crackers. Watch Judge Judy. I played around with the aerial silk hammock thing. I've gotten it to a good length and height now. Not strong enough to pull myself up yet but stretching it is really nice.

We left his place to take the carts back to mine. We had a lot of trouble because I was trying to balance it like I used to and it was not working and my arm hurt and it was just a mess. Eventually we figured it out. We walk past my friend Megan from the BMI I said Hi and then we got back to my place. James stayed just long enough to give me some hugs and then he went to go down to the harbor for his overnight.

I talked to my dad on the phone for a bit. He's going to be coming down next Sunday but he apparently also has a hernia so he's going to need surgery so he doesn't know when that's going to happen. I hope he still comes down. But on the phone he asked if I could have everything off the walls so that we could spackle. So I spent a little time taking a few things down. I also packed more books into the two carts I have. Got almost all the books. There's one stack of larger books on the bookshelf still. I'll have to put them in like a bag or something. But then I was just kind of tired. Out of breath. I had leftover pizza. I tried to start watching like six different things today but the one thing I really want to watch turn. To only be in Portuguese and I didn't want to read. And then the other thing I want to watch just made me really sad so I turned that off. I just watched some polygons videos and came in here and lay down for an hour. I don't love taking naps in the late late afternoon but that's okay. I apparently needed it.

I took a shower and felt a little bit better. And now I'm watching good Omens. It's really good so far and I'm enjoying it a lot. It's the first show I've been able to focus on in a while so that feels good. I think I'm going to watch one more episode and go to bed. I am working Monday and Tuesday at the BMI until 2 p.m. and then I have the rest of the day off. And then I have Wednesday through Sunday off. I am looking forward to not having to be a person for a bit. I have some plans in a mixed in there. Thursday I'm going on a field trip, Friday we're going swimming, Saturday we're going to Jordan's birthday party barbecue thing, and on Sunday my dad's coming. But most of it is just good calm things to where I don't have to be working. That's really nice. The next two weeks just working until 3 p.m. with training but still. I will have some time to just be with my own thoughts and work on moving and all of that.

I hope you all have a good night tonight. Sleep well. Take care of each other.

[dzpenumbra]

8/23/22

The topic today is a fun one. Money and financial habits. I'll just lay it out on the table, I come from a family with money, so they've really bailed my ass out in making sure I always have a place to live and I can really focus all the attention I can on my craft. I'm insanely lucky and deeply grateful, I hope the creativity I've been thoroughly nurturing the past several years is paying off.

I have had the odd luxury of being a failed freelance for the past... decade, at least. I've sold a few things here and there. I've done a tattoo apprenticeship (school, I guess, technically, but it counts as a real apprenticeship... keep telling yourself that...). I worked at a bakery, I worked at a gas station, I worked in Americorps doing a kids camp. I did a few pickup modeling gigs, guitar lessons, worked as an artist's assistant. Portraits where I could get em, tattoo design more so. But at the end of everything I've done, streaming has paid me the best. Which is really kinda fucking embarrassing, right?

Like... I got my college degree, I have the skill to do close-to-photorealistic animal drawings in colored pencil, yet my biggest actual financial earner basically my whole life is dicking around on the internet?! Playing games, making music, chillin with friends, ranting about one topic or another, being a cool friend and a cool host, regardless of what content is being hosted. I always kinda viewed it like... if I were to go and do a guided barefoot hike tomorrow, and lead it, that kind of profession, that's the role I'm supposed to be in. It doesn't really matter what we're doing, but I'm the host - like the news anchor, or the radio host. I'm the party leader, leading the team from a full-support role. I'm the DM. I'm the guy having a poker night EVERY WEEK in his fucking DISCORD for PATREON SUBS ONLY. Cuz if I want to keep doing this, I need to be able to pay my bills and keep food in the fridge.

It haunts me every day that I am dependent on my parents, I feel peoples' anger and jealousy(?) when they look at me, so it's a big priority of mine to not have my ability to pay my rent dependent on my parents. It makes me very, very anxious and it makes me feel unsafe when I go in public because of the way people have viewed me like this in the past, as though I don't work hard, as though I haven't gone through Hell's gates several times. I'm not in any of this to get massively rich or famous, I have grown very accustomed to a very spartan lifestyle in the better half of the past two decades. I've spent this time trying very hard to spend as little of the money I was given as possible and to create as much value from that investment as I can. So if you're the radio host for a living, yes, you can expect to be paid for your work. If you're a TV host, a hike guide, a bartender, a concierge - you can expect to get paid for your work.

If you're a streamer.......................................................

Or a YouTuber................................................................

So here I am... reconnecting with my weed smoking hippie side from early college - the one who birthed my creativity. This reconnection is my prayer, venerating/honoring my own Genesis. I'm making nature-based art with locally sourced found objects. Wood, Stone, Bone. All-natural, handcrafted, organic art. The only thing I'm sourcing that isn't from nature within 10 miles of my house is the copper wire I'm going to fuck around with for making hand-polished mineral/stone jewelry. Never done it before, fingers fuckin crossed it goes well, it seems fun. New mediums are always such an exciting new place to be, a rush really. Like everything you do is learning something new, it's a crazy feeling, it can be super overwhelming. So hopefully I can find a crowd to sell those to, I think Farmers Markets in the Fall might bring some opportunities to hock my crafted jewelry like a Romani trader or something. Add in working in the digital studio on Twitch, sharing that experience, maybe someone passing by would want a piece? I think that's such a cool fucking idea, but I just suck at getting people interested I guess, and I end up at the bottom of the list on Twitch because my viewer count is always low as shit because people just keep blowing me off and never showing up really. Then like finding ways to make it my fault or something, like there's actually a reason why they're not hanging out with me at work that night other than "they don't want to", "they got better shit to do". It's so weird how many codes and ciphers people have invented to avoid honestly saying "I don't want to spend time with you".

So a message is sent out into the world. When I take a leadership role. When I take a guide role. When I take a host role. People do not show up. People do not attend. People do not join the team. When I queue up for a game as Team Leader, no one in my Party/Group is on that team. They are all people randomly queued in with me. When I host a poker night, no one shows up and I just change it last minute to a youtube arabian ghost hunting watch party or something that maybe one or two people attend. When I host the hike, no one shows up and I just solo hike. When I host the radio show, I have no listeners, no call-ins, no requests, no studio visits (had like 2 or 3 visits during my whole radio show stint in college). THAT is the message sent to the world. THAT is my publicity. And THAT is why I don't have any income. That's the best I can really sum it up, I'm sure there are a lot of other things that contribute. Like how I feel really shitty charging family and friends for my work. How it feels really fucking awkward to have to CHASE DOWN your best friend and be like "hey, so that tattoo I designed for you, that's was like... 2-300 bucks worth of work... so... you know..." like a fucking debt collector. It makes me feel really shitty. Or like having to CHASE DOWN your best friend and go "hey, you uh... never paid me for being a nanny to your infant child so you could go work all day, and then fired me because I didn't take her outside enough without any real sit-down on what the fuck I would be doing outside. Like I've EVER been alone with an infant in a public park."

Most of my lack of income has come from trying to avoid these social situations. If my stream isn't working, I'd rather put it on hold until I have a better plan than to continue streaming with 3 viewers and look like I actually really suck at what I do. It's BAD advertising, that shit could hurt me in the long run. Just sayin... But yeah, most of my lack of income feels like it just comes from having unhealthy relationships, like not very supportive or inclusive ones. Like I'm kept at arms length or some shit. I know some of them are trying, and they all have their burdens to bear, and obstacles that make this difficult. I don't know if it's my place to really question or challenge those reasons, though I do have a history of doing so. But I do know that I've been on half-rations for like 10 years and I try very hard to be as frugal as I can make myself aware to be, like a self-flagellating penitent (fuck yeah I just looked that shit up, 14th century Catholic church, suck it).

I have learned very well how to spend very little money. How to live with broken down utilities, how to cook every meal, how to cook in bulk to save money, what to do to pass time when you lose power in a thunderstorm for like 4 hours and you're 100% by yourself in the dark with just a cat, how to wrap your head around eating the same meal for dinner 4+ nights in a row because you need to finish it all before it goes bad. So cutting costs and repurposing/upcycling things has become a prominent specialty, necessity is the mother of invention. But the weird thing is that it doesn't really matter if my income is actually well below the poverty line, I'm still paying the same social price as if I was staying at a fancy hotel on my parents' dime. It never really sheds that weight. It's weird like that.

I went into this wanting to talk about weird money skills you learn. Like me... I am weirdly stunted because I just don't check my account balance. I just sorta adjusted to not doing it for a multitude of reasons, so literally every single transaction I make is a leap of faith. It's a heart-in-throat, holy fuck, is my card going to get declined again moment. And sometimes it does. Yeah. So I don't know, maybe if someone reads this and thinks shitty of creatives who come from wealthy families, like... you're not really seeing the whole story, and it may not be all sunshine and daisies. You only learn habits through repetition, practice, and if you're never immersed in having income, it can be a bit jarring to suddenly get it. And the way they are living, the lifestyle they are living, the thing that people tend to not like wealthy people because of... the opulence, the sloth, peeling out in their sports car or swimming in gold coins all day like Scrooge McDuck. Yeah, I know people who are/were like that, but that's not me and a LOT of people like me. And yet we pay the social judgment price as though we were.

I don't like having fancy things, I like having stuff that works and stuff you can repair, that lasts. I don't like brand status symbol clothes, I like comfy clothes that support bands I like, and friends. So I hope people will judge me more on the content of my soul and my creative expression than by the stereotype of hippie weirdo with rich parents who pay for them to play artist or whatever for a few years until they cut them off out of... spite? I guess? I don't know the reasoning, just seems like yet another excuse for people to just not like different people and get angry at them.

Weird topic for me, I rarely ever talk about it, but this was a very nice retrospection of what's been going on for me. It's been pretty hell-on-earth for the past several years, but things are oddly stabilizing... kinda... I guess... and I just feel like something could take shape right around the corner, if I play my cards right. Trying to keep that spark of hope alive, that leap of faith, that impulse where after you slam on a skate trick, you get back up, get your awareness back, let the pain subside, then go and try it again right away. The optimism. The drive. That thing. Nurture that fucker. It'll get you through some tough times. Don't let it get reckless though, keep it in check with your goals and your moral character. It's very important to keep a moral leash on pure, unbridled confidence - she's like an injection of Anti-Fear. That's a hell of a feeling, people get addicted to that shit. I guess that's why mindfulness - self-awareness, being present and intentional with your actions - is really important to practice too, as a companion to confidence/willpower. That way you have the immensely powerful drive to keep trying and persevere, but what's keeping that from turning into just following every impulse unquestioningly is that sense of mindfulness. Being deliberate. Taking the impulse and asking, what are you? Why am I doing this? To what end? Not necessarily to challenge the impulse, but to look at it first and give it a nod if it still sounds good. Like a dinner request from a child, I imagine. To acknowledge that those are two distinctly different voices, impulse and supervisor, and that they should be talking to eachother. Reading the contract before you sign, proofreading a text before you send it, that kinda shit. I think both of those are equally important, and you kinda need both.

I guess that's all for now. I'm excited to get streaming back up and running soon, and music, all that. This might be a crazy winter and I'm actually looking forward to it. Hopefully I can move somewhere with better heat. We'll see where this takes me. If you read this, thank you for taking a step into my life, my story. It's been just me in here for quite some time, I sincerely appreciate the interest and I hope you are having a wonderful day. <3