#fuck waking up at 4am

[lunarslice]

Reminder, I love each and every one of you SO FUCKING much. If you forget, I will be sad! You deserve to eat, be hydrated, loved, and accepted! And you are by me! Keep your spirits up!

Additional notice: I'm currently trying to figure out apartment stuff. I got approved for a place closer to work so I'm not waking up at 4:30am to make it on time at 8am to work. So, the packing and just working have been keeping me locked away in my head. School has also been on the back burner... I'm trying guys. I promise that when it all seeps back to normal content and replies will flow more naturally. For now, bare with me. I'm very overwhelmed with the transitions IRL. I love you! You're all in my thoughts.

[jjjacobine]

FUCK JUST NARROWLY MISSED SIGNALIS RELEASE ANNIVERSARY BUT IM POSTING ANYWAY

HAPPY ANNIVERASRY SIGNALIS!!!!!!

[vinnyandthephenomena]

i feel bad for jay sharing a hotel room with tim i just know his ass snores loud as hell

[kaiserouo]

fuck weekly meeting

[why-the-heck-not]

09.09.23, saturday

wasn’t supposed to have a ”relaxed day” today, but the dinner plans were kind of extempore and I’m not saying no to free food & wine ever

things done:

3h of studying

gym workout

dinner with the family

[bizlybebo]

hai

KILL THAT WHITE BOY

[missowo]

If deltarune papyrus comes out pls. can I pls sees him.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I had a dream yesterday. And I've always had weird dreams. Creepy or bizzare or both. Though they've always told a narrative. They've always been long drawn out stories with dialogue and characters and a goal and a beginning and usually an end.

Yesterday I dreamt of walking down my street. It was dark and I was with an old friend. I knew in the dream they were an old friend, one I hadn't met since I was a teenager, maybe longer. But now, awake, I can't recall their face.

We were going somewhere to find something. In the dream I knew where we were going and what we hoped to recover. Now the details are murky.

I was apprehensive in the dream. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had tried this before, with more people, with more old friends, and that I had failed. And like a game resetting I had started at the beginning again. Except none of the others were given a second chance and I was here now with a new companion, walking back towards the same fate. My friend remained oblivious and happy. We were talking about the neighbourhoods and houses we were passing. I think I dismissed the flashing images of my 'first try' as deja vu or anxiety.

It was night when we started off from my street. No time passed, but it was bright and early a step away, on the next street. There was something safe about my small dark street with its one light, and I felt we had left that safety behind.

This new neighbourhood was idyllic. Sunny and green with little houses. But there were no people. I don't think there was any noise at all, aside from the two of us.

We passed a pair of cottages that were painted to look like little green frogs. They had one connected garden with a little fence and archways and garden seats painted to look like toadstools. I told my friend I'd like to live there. That when we got what we came for we should go see the cottages, invite others and have a lunch on the toadstools.

At the end of the street was a white wall and a large gate, behind it stood an old fashioned bungalow with a sprawling garden dotted by bushes. The bunglow's veranda wrapped all the way around it, all the doors leading to the inside of the house were open wide, and we could see a courtyard in the middle. There was antique furniture throughout the house, making it difficult to navigate through. But they made good hiding spots. We knew we needed to hide. That we weren't supposed to be there. That whatever we were taking, we'd be stealing. I think we got caught last time, my other old friends and I.

There was an older lady. A servant. I could see her from my hiding spot. She was talking to someone. I don't think I could make out what they were saying, can you hear noise in dreams? But I knew she was talking about us. Telling someone that we had come here.

I only ever saw who she was talking to through their reflection in the glass doors. Whoever it was she looked like my next-door neighbour who had passed away almost a year ago. The one who used to make little bouquets of this plant the cats liked, tied together with a red ribbon, and toss it into our garden for them to find. We never spoke much, but I miss her.

She looked exactly like her. Except her hands didn't make sense. They just kept going and going till they almost reached the ground. I didn't understand why at first. I had to keep staring at that reflection. I thought maybe something was wrong with it. That maybe it was distorted? It was her nails. It was her nails that were wrong. They were long and sharp and dirty and I knew I had felt them once, against my skin, against my flesh, tearing into me. Maybe it's just because it was a dream, but it's an odd feeling to know you had died once and you were going to die again, that even the extra steps you took to prevent it hadn't really changed anything. There was a strange disconnect to it.

We crept around the bungalow. It was really just one long circular corridor packed with furniture, with a courtyard in the middle. I think she knew we were there. I think she was hunting us. But whatever we came for it was more important than whatever fate had met my previous companions (Becoming a corpse? Becoming a meal?)

The more we stayed there, the more I just knew things. Like how that wasn't really my old neighbour. How whatever it was just looked like her. To appear safe and friendly and comforting, maybe, to me specifically. I knew why the whole neighbourhood was empty, of course. I knew what had happened to all the people. I knew why the houses were so well kept though, so welcoming, designed to draw people in.

We got what we came for. It was further than we had gotten last time. Or at least that's the impression I had. Then we ran. It, whatever it was, chased after us. We made it out of the gates and as we ran past the picturesque little houses, as we ran past the frog cottage I knew that one had been made just for me.

[camellcat]

gwen cooper. gweeeenn cooper. idk who the hell she is or anything about her but I can't stop rotating her around in my brain like a little creature that needs to be examined. I love u freak girl <3

[yellowistheraddest]

fighting the demons of 'draw until your eyes feel like they're bleeding' and 'go to bed 2 hours too early', and they both are beating my ass into a pathetic pulp

[blackbirdffxiv]

[sodrippy]

i love waking up early but going to bed early??? is there no joy in this world??? must i be denied even the simplest of pleasures????

[rae-unbeloved]

Here’s more of the silly imma draw you as

He looks like a silly lil guy :33 , also like he would commit atrocities with a :3 on his face and i love that for him

[ghosty-bees]

shivers is still my favourite useless skill

i am so normal about this game idk what youre talking about <— their friends are annoyed and/or concerned

[why-the-heck-not]

woke up at 4am to be productive but u know what the thing about calm quiet mornings is? It’s too calm. how am I supposed to get anything done if I’m not 5 seconds away from a stress induced heart attack???

[benibue]

I’ve hated the met gala for a while now but the fact that anyone would give a shit about what 100k dress insanely rich people are wearing while an entire genocide happens is the fucking limit. It’s always “eat the rich” until it actually matters.

All these actors wanted us to stand with them during their strike, now they can’t even stand with us for millions of murdered children and everyone around me is just cool with that. I’m sick to my stomach every god damn day.