#for now I’m allowing myself to think abt dnd.

[exopelagic]

why do applications feel like your soul is being lightly roasted at 180C

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of a commonplace book

8pm, monday, august 15, 2022

once again writing this on my phone in the background while waiting for my turn during dnd, as god intended; nature is healing, we were the virus, etc. since i can’t do a read-more on mobile, this will just be a quick one!

reading another week finishing things— TGCF vol 2, xiran jay zhao’s iron widow, getting into the last few chapters of perdido street station. glad to have finished iron widow and been able to return the loan, it felt like an accomplishment— aside from that, it… felt like a first novel. huge vision, very pointed messages, two or three ‘plot twists’ that i either suspected or outright called well in advance. i don’t love first person narration for a novel like this, the struggle btw ‘believably unreliable’ and ‘observant / objective enough to actually provide descriptions and context’ is super hard to get right (this is also what bugged me abt the hunger games, don’t @ me). there’s one particular choice in iron widow that i did quite like (predictably, the handling of the love not-triangle), but that didn’t quite outweigh some of the stuff that made me uncomfortable (not bc they were problematic, just bc i’m very suggestible and a weeny about physical discomfort).

listening my buddy @pep-squad-lizzie dropped a link to the defector podcast ‘Normal Gossip’ in the group chat a little while ago, and i’ve just about finished both seasons. i like the host’s voice and manner, i’ve really liked most of the guests—as the question is posed each episode, i have been asking myself ‘what is my relationship to gossip? do i consider myself a gossip?’ i think what i like is the reflecting on / analyzing / sharing emotional responses on the stories, empath- or sympathizing with the participants. i like emoting about people, places, and things with people i trust not to pass on the news of how i feel about those things! i really value and respect a Cone of Silence when a friend imposes it; i live and work in communities too small not to, we need places to be candid with no fear of it getting back to the people involved. that said, we also live by sharing stories abt professors not to work with, people looking for roommates or with interesting syllabus examples to talk through— so it’s a judgement call. i like the anonymized gossip on the podcast, but i might like the guests’ editorializing and reacting best? especially when they take an unexpected stance or are willing to sympathize with someone at first. i like thinking the best of people at first, until they prove they don’t deserve it, and it’s nice when the guests do too. i quite liked the josh gondelman episode.

watching my house watched master & commander: far side of the world this week, a rewatch for all of us i think. i’m pretty much incapable of being impartial about this one, but it’s a good damn movie. the visuals, the soundtrack. i like how the plot is almost entirely character-interaction driven, despite it being a war movie; i like how the emotional beats have only gotten more real and painful as i’ve gotten older; i do actually now notice and feel irritation abt the fact that sophie and diana and any of the female characters from the books who could have been included are totally not there even in flashbacks or memories or…anyway.

playing more stardew. @leadfeathers made a post a little while ago about relaxing in the tub listening to news podcasts and playing stardew, and that was me this weekend if you make the soundtrack strangers’ gossip and also i couldn’t take my laptop in the bath i have finally expanded my cottage! ive started the mysterious qi quest! my irritation about how little the game internally does to help you out *as a person playing a video game* as opposed to a fictional farmer is balanced against my ongoing awe about how the game expands and adds elements or allows you to deepen and expand what you’re doing.

making garden pics as things start to bloom and ripen! the little leaf in the black plastic pot is a lemon seed i’m delighted to see making a go of it; the big yellow squash blossoms are probably zucchini.

[nerice]

a reminder to keep walking

-2010 i met my bf & i wouldn’t be here without him

-2011 a year i have no memories of other than self harm & suicide attempts

-2012 was still bad, but i finished a book. i found a better online community, few memories intact other than the journal i was writing oc things in at the time

-2013 changed everything. finished school, got Out Of There, started working, started studying game design, got into homestuck, bought my first sketchbook and decided to learn to draw !!!! started writing character pieces nonstop & got evernote to organize the sheer load of content i was putting out. first true oc playlists. dark maiden hell of october ‘13 will never be forgotten. also watched evangelion which,, seemed prophetic & helped me understand who i was & where i wanted to go

-2014 i struggled a lot, keeping up with uni while working was impossible but i couldn’t afford uni otherwise. wrote and wrote and wrote a lot. it’s always kept me going

-2015 i dropped out of uni. made my first forrays into digital art, starting working on my oc website. got an apprenticeship that was awful & i dropped out of after two months. i wrote so much to get through the day during that time. black swan happened. i wrote so much. my writing changed that year. my storyverse changed. finished the same book but better. at christmas i restructured my entire worldbuilding to justify one (1) thing from black swan writings & i found the core of the story that i’m still working with today.

-2016 i had a good repetitive manual task job that allowed me to think abt ocs all day everyday and i wrote heaps whenever i came home. i signed up for regular old university, english and japanese, where i still am. i moved out of my shitty home life & in with my boyfriend & not once have i looked back. i’m in such a better place here

-2017 was hard bc i was adjusting to everything. couldn’t figure out if i was close to uni friends or not. writing was shaky bc suddenly i lived with a person i liked and couldn’t hole myself up in my room alone to write to forget. i still startle when someone intrudes in my space and i don’t see them coming, even if i love that person. did nanowrimo for the first time & wrote a draft for white crown. sparked and went absolutely wild on writing after that

-2018 big writing spark carried over into the new year and i wrote abt 50k a month. read shades of magic which was responsible for Some Things. wrote a screenplay. finished a big chunk of uni milestones in the summer w/o breaking against deadlines. finished another version of the same book with updated worldbuilding now. burned out. went to japan for the last three months of the year, which was good but also killed me. had a crush on [redacted] im still not fully over her. got into critical role & dnd right as the year ended.

-2019 i’ve kept saying this was the worst year of my life & in some ways it was, but looking back, i’ve come so far. i have a solid friend group now & i’ve pulled them all into dnd and we started playing together. i got myself into therapy for various mental health issues i still struggle with and hopefully will be diagnosed soon. i didn’t write a lot. i didn’t draw a lot. but i found my place with art in the last few months & i’m about to finish my 6th sketchbook all full of oc art that past me could never have imagined i’d get to draw with my own two hands. i’m getting somewhere. i can see that i’m getting somewhere, with art, with writing, with life. it’s still hard, but i’ve come so far, and i will go farther still.

as i’m writing this it’s 11:47 on dec 31, 2019. next year i will finish my BA and start doing a masters in translation. i’m three chapters into editing a new version of the same book and i love it. i’m listening to oc songs loudly. i want to get into digital art for real next year. i always try and despair because i don’t know what i’m doing. my only resolution for next year, for the next decade, is to try and keep trying because if i’ve learned anything from the past ten years then that to keep trying is all that matters and it will get you anywhere. it got me somewhere. at the end of next year i want to post an art summary of the year with all digital art. and at the end of next decade, i want to post an art summary of the decade. also finishing that one book and moving on to the 17 others i have planned would be nice. cheers :3c

[troglobite]

on top of everything my mom just keeps telling me how depressed she is

so i don’t wanna unload any of this on her, she already takes on ALL of my anxiety and discomfort w things and how much it sucks living in a different city and state so far away by myself it fucking SUCKS i hate it

i miss her i miss living in the pnw i wanna go back home asap

regardless, idk what to do to help her. i just want her to get a therapist herself.

and i can’t unload on her or talk to her abt this stuff.

she struggles w the same shit. her advice has never been good. ‘maybe you’ll never have a best friend, like me, and that’s okay!’

no, it’s not. you’re depressed and constantly talk abt being lonely. it’s not okay. 

and my friends dont’ wanna hear this shit

then i’m just being ungrateful for having gotten the amazing offer i did at my top choice university for this program

they don’t wanna hear that i’m not enjoying any part of this

it’s a neat trick to know some old english

the people in poetry are generally nice and interesting

but my colloquium sucks

the work for my classes just sucks

and i have NOTHING related to my research interests

and the classes i wanna take next semester all have weird things that i won’t be able to juggle

i’m constantly overwhelmed

i HATE apartment living

i’m not made for this

but i have no one to talk to

except my new therapist

who i’m still trying to get the hang of

she’s younger than my therapist back home but she’s nice, but she uses SILENCE a lot. and idk how i feel abt that.

i feel uncomfortable and bad and like i have to fill in the silence or i’ve said something wrong or fucked up

and she asks me questions and i give long rambling answers that are bullshit bc i just feel like i have to talk

or, y’know, my main character trait which is to OVER explain EVERYTHING in my goddamn life

the number one thing that everyone hates me for and has always hated me for 

and she’s being paid to put up with it

so i just 

am really lonely and feel like there’s no one to talk to and nothing to do 

i just wanna go home

i really really really really just want to FUCKING GO HOME

and all this shit i’ve been posting abt w dnd and all of this?

i’m terrified of being a prof/teacher now

nobody’s going to like me

that’s not the ultimate goal but i’m perceived as a woman, i’m queer, i’m trans, i’m mixed race, i’m short, i’m WEIRD--who’s going to listen to someone like me?

someone in my cohort already had a girl in her discussion group (she’s teaching this year, i’m not--again, i’m not allowed to complain abt anything, i only have three classes and i’m not teaching) who’s treating her like SHIT and won’t listen to anything she says

and i just

idk i don’t think that i can do this but i guess we’ll fucking find out maybe

i’m not allowed to complain and when i do it’s annoying and a burden and it’s overreacting and no one cares

no one cares abt the GOOD things in my life either

no one fucking cares

no one wants to hear it

no one gives a single solitary shit

i have NAMELESS AND FACELESS PEOPLE ON HERE AND TWITTER who give more of a shit abt fan obsessions or shit in my life than actual people in my life

people i haven’t seen irl in years who care a little bit but i’m 10000% sure it’s bc they don’t have to deal w me all the time

idk what i have to do in life to get someone to give ANY SHIT about ANYTHING in my life

who WANTS to hear about my day, or the things i love, or anything

every group conversation is always abt the things they love and like and have done and the things they’re struggling with

my friend who just got married and moved to another state is allowed to be depressed but i’m not i guess

i’m not allowed to be upset

i’m just not

no one cares no one wants to hear it

i just have to be there for everyone else and sometimes i do a terribel job of it anyway and they still end up resenting me

why am i so broken and fucked up why am i so stupid why am i so bad

i hate this i have fucking homework to do and it’s late and i STILL can’t fix my fucking sleep schedule like the fucking shit bag i am

[shrubforhire]

All the fun, random questions

Do you have any “yeah I’m good at it but I hate it” kind of skills? nah bc when im good at something i inherently enjoy it

If you could make one type of food cease to exist, what would you banish? cilantro

You’re allowed to know everything about one highly specific thing/topic. What would you choose? music

What’s a fictional character who you want to be like? In what way do you want to be like them? elena alvarez, i wanna b a more confident gay

If you had to live in and not leave a city for the rest of your life, what city would you choose? nyc

Do you tend to say what you’re thinking? What would people think of you if you did the opposite? usually yea,, but not quite everything. if i said some shit ive thought of ppl would be like,,,, hewwo

Is there anything that you’ve done/experienced so much you hate it now? Easiest to come up with are like, food or music. cards against humanity

Were you afraid of anything “silly”/irrational as a child that you’ve since outgrown? playing certain video game bosses alone

If you were to impart one moral lesson (think Aesop’s fables, Golden Rule, etc) on the world, what would it be? act as if someone is watching even when there’s no one

If you were a DND character or a game character (or something like that) what would your highest stat be? What would you want your highest stat to be? What about the lowest, to both of those? my highest stat is probs dexterity, itd be cool to have higher wisdom my lowest is def wisdom, i’d be fine w having lower dexterity

Is there anything you judge others for when you probably shouldn’t? grammar

Who are “your kind” of people? crackheads who say weird shit and are down to be stupid

If you had to come up with your last words right now… what would they be? gay rights

Do you have any “weirdly strong” opinions about things that don’t really matter? raisins do not belong in salads

Your goal is to completely confuse the people around you in as short a time as possible– what do you say/do? be myself,, prolly start interpretive dancing or cawing like a bird or some shit

What’s the most comfy place you’ve been in? stevies old bed

Did you have any “silly” beliefs as a kid? Where did they come from (parents, friends, out of nowhere, etc)? i thought you had to date someone with your same hair color, so i picked a blonde boy and said i had a crush on him.

If you were to add or remove one physical feature to yourself… what would it be? Can be from animals, can be from imagination… whatever. id have fuckin wings

What could you happily give a two hour lecture on? musical theatre

What would a mirror opposite version of yourself be like? It doesn’t necessarily have to be an evil version– any feature can be reflected! she would b super straight and just have casual sex all the time

What’s an occasion you’ve done a double take? i always think i see a dog when theres rly nothing there and i always have to do a double take

If you could only see one color (and its varying shades– dark/light) for the rest of your life… what would you choose? pink

Do your friends all share certain qualities? Major or minor! they memers, usually into theatre and music

How do you motivate yourself to do things? think abt my girlfriend

What’s one of your favorite jokes? Tell it to us! There was a little boy who lived in a far away land. Close to the boy's home, there was a tall mountain, always covered in snow at the top. Also at the top of the mountain, there was an ancient monastery where ancient monks lived. Sometimes, the little boy, as he was riding his tricycle around his yard, would look up at the monastery on the tall mountain and wonder what it was like up there. One day, when the wind was blowing down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold and the little boy could hear a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious. So, the little boy made a peanut butter sandwich, hopped on his tricycle and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him hours and hours, but he finally made it to the top. He bravely pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door. "Hello, Mr. Monk, sir. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?" "I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk." Sadly, the little boy got back on his tricycle and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise. The wind did not blow down off the mountain again until a couple years later. The boy was a bit bigger and stronger now and now rode around town on his bicycle. As luck would have it, he was out riding when the wind blew down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold, and he heard a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious. So, the bigger boy made a ham and cheese sandwich, hopped on his bicycle and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him hours, but he finally made it to the top. He pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door. "Hey, Mr. Monk. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?" "I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk." Sadly, the big boy got back on his bicycle and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise. The wind did not blow down off the mountain again until a couple years later. The boy had grown into a strapping youth now and rode around town on his motorcycle. As luck would have it, he was out riding when the wind blew down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold, and he heard a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious. So, the strapping youth grabbed a slice of pizza, hopped on his motorcycle and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him 30 minutes, but he finally made it to the top. He pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door. "Yo, Mr. Monk, dude. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?" "I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk." Sadly, the strapping youth got back on his motorcycle and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise. The wind did not blow down off the mountain again until a couple years later. The boy was now a young man and often rode around in his new convertible sportscar. As luck would have it, he was out riding when the wind blew down off the mountain, the air turned quite cold, and he heard a very strange noise on the wind. It was coming from the monastery! He could not figure out what could possibly be making such a strange noise and he was curious. So, the young man bought a burger at a fast food place, got in his convertible sportscar, and started his ride up to the monastery. It took him 20 minutes, but he finally made it to the top. He pounded on the massive door to the monastery and the head monk opened the door. "Mr. Monk. Down at my home in the valley below, I heard a very strange noise coming from your monastery. Could you tell me what it is?" "I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk." Sadly, the young man got back in his convertible sportscar and rode all the way home, in a very foul and frustrated mood. He really did want to know what was making that noise. That night, he thought and thought about the very strange noise and how he just had to know what caused it. So, he resolved to do something about it the next day. The next day, he got in his convertible sportscar and raced up the mountain, slammed on his brakes, and skidded to a stop right in front of the massive door to the monastery. He honked the horn of his convertible sportscar until the head monk finally opened the door. "Alright, Mr. Monk, I want to know what is making that very strange noise coming from you monastery!" "I'm sorry," replied the head monk, "I can't tell you. You aren't a monk." "Well, then can I become a monk?" "Why certainly! It is quite easy. You must travel the earth and count the number of blades of grass in every field and the number of grains of sand on every beach. When you return with your answer, then you shall be a monk." So the young man left the monastery and travelled the earth. For years and years he counted the blades of grass and grains of sand, until one day he had finally finished. He made his way slowly back to the monastery and found the head monk. "Oh, Mr. Monk, I have travelled the earth these past years, counting the blades of grass and grains of sand. I finally know that there are 123,123,123,123,123 blades of grass in the fields and 123,123,123,123,123 grains of sand on the beaches and I would like to become a monk." So the man became a monk. At last, he would now be able to find out the source of that very strange noise coming from the monastery. "Mr. Monk, what is the noise coming from the monastery?" asked the new monk. The head monk replied, "The source is too complicated to describe in words. I am afraid that you must see it for yourself to truly understand it. This key will show you the answer you seek." "Take this key to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery. There you will find a long corridor. At the end of the corridor is a door and through the door is the thing that makes the noise." Well, of course the new monk went immediately to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery and there he did indeed find the long corridor. He walked down the corridor until he could see the door at the end. Unfortunately, there were three magical fires that never go out blocking the man from the door. He decided to jump the fires to reach the door. The man made sure the key was secure in his hand, took a running charge at the first fire and leapt! Over the first fire he flew, but he dropped the key. The man leapt back over the fire, ran all the way back down the long corridor, out of the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery and back to the head monk. "Oh, Mr. Monk! I am so sorry! I went to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery, down the long corridor to the door, but there were magical fires and I dropped the key in the first one as I leapt over it." "Do not worry, for there is another key and you must overcome tests on your way to enlightenment. The second key, however is far, far away in Canada." The new monk left the monastery and travelled to Canada. It took many years because he had no money, being a monk and all. Eventually, he arrived in Canada and managed to track down the key to the door. The monk then had to make the return journey equally as painstakingly, but finally he arrived back at the monastery. Down into the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery he went, until he found the long corridor. The three magical fires were in front of him as he took a running start. Over the first fire went the monk, key still in hand! Over the second fire went the monk, key still- RATS! He had dropped the key in the second fire. The monk leapt back over the second fire, back over the first fire, back down the long corridor he walked and out of the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery. The monk went back to the head monk. "Oh, Mr. Monk! I am so sorry! I went to the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery, down the long corridor to the door, but there were magical fires and I dropped the key in the second one as I leapt over it." "Do not worry, for there is one more key and we must all overcome tests on our way to enlightenment. The third key, however is far, far away in Australia." The monk left the monastery and travelled to Australia. It took many years because he had no money being a monk and all. Eventually he arrived in Australia and managed to track down the key to the door. The monk then had to make the return journey equally as painstakingly, but finally he arrived back at the monastery. By this time, he was quite an old monk. Down into the deepest, darkest corner of the coldest, dampest room in the dirtiest, filthiest cavern under the monastery he went, until he found the long corridor. The three magical fires were in front of him as he took a running start. Over the first fire went the quite old monk, key still in hand! Over the second fire went the quite old monk, key still in hand! Over the THIRD fire went the quite old monk, key still in hand! He had made it! He'd made the jumps and here he was standing outside the door with the answer to his question. Finally, finally, after so many, many, many years of wanting to know what was making the strange noise, he would know. The answer lay through the door in front of him and he could at last be at peace with himself. Slowly, the quite old monk slid the key into the lock. Turning the key a slight 'click' was to be heard as the lock moved back allowing the quite old monk to open the door. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Shock and amazement came over him as he finally realized the answer to his question! "Do you want me to tell you what it was?" "I'm sorry, I can't tell you. You aren't a monk."