#who the fuck am i

[grhmwtts]

just had a piece of chocolate and wondering why i have to pine for romantic interest when it should simply be right outside my door

i write this now and am reminded of the two postcards, right outside my door, detailing undying devotion from the one and only xxx—but i digress, that is of no concern to this current feeling

it is raining, rain, raining and the rain drenched me even as i sit inside, away from the window, away from the wetness. its noise is enough to dampen my clothes, soak my mind in nonsense i’d typically ignore

i am fragile and feeble and incapable of focus. there are books beside me i am far more desiring of indulging but i cannot pull myself to jump into them, they, too, are not outside my door waiting for me

there are shows and movies i wish i could watch, trapped in the small screens of phone or laptop but those, too, do not overtake my senses and drown me in a world other than my own

i feel my body rot—rot, rotten—rot through and rot away. any beauty i previously portrayed is vacant, washed away. the rain patters, never pitters, and i fear my life is headed to the shitter

my body is dissolving, morphing—gaining fat and losing muscle mass—i am deformed beyond dysphoria, no diet or proper nutrition could right the course of these veins that soon become complicated. no, beauty, even yet, is not sat outside my door waiting for me

i wonder, with my left leg crossed, my right foot firmly against the floor, if i shall ever tire of these wonderings. my hair grows longer yet, unruly still, and i am perceived with less and less a thrill. the familiar notion of a self adored is less of a monument and more of a fragment, an animated character, archetyped, forgotten

do i soil these clothes with rain or with tears, do i skip across the street to hear the clinking of beers; do i down a shot of whiskey for the warmth in my stomach—for no fire of desire waits outside my door

even, if so, i had all i wanted, i’d still be feeling disgruntled in the attic. rhyming and timing, no place of reason in this season, for as fall withers, i can only pray winter brings a reprieve

i dilly and i dally and i scrunch my toes, arlo weighted on my left leg now. looking around at a room so bleak, i start to worry about every roof leak. screaming for something to say i’m okay, this world is my own, and i am insane

i tire not of the existentialism, of the new year resolutions resolved or intended. i tire not of the darkness before me for i am as alive and i am as dead as i will ever be. my head against the wall, my clothes unfit as ever, i desire no escape, i desire no desire—only to feel the supposed act these humans call existence

[indigo-greer-collins]

i know i nearly died the other day but damn that doctor was kinda fine. had like glasses and tattoos. and he was hella funny.

[pixxl-axolotl]

being a system and collectively on the aro spectrum but in the way that you’re the only system in a million miles where most of your introjects have no romantic source memories and actively dislike ships with their source

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pa

[duhstbunny]

real image of me when i no longer like anything i base my identity around (i am a soulless shell of consumerism in the midst of an identity crisis)

[stalkiwi]

Alright that's it I'm done being Binah kinnie number 755758 now I'm Don kinnie number 33727 enjoy

[books-and-dragons]

Ward of the State

Another visit from the Domestic Affairs Court threatens to tear the family of Leblanc apart when there's just a few too many hastily-drawn conclusions made about Ren's safety under Sojiro's guardianship.

None of it makes any sense, and yet everything the social workers say is completely logical. Information-driven counter-arguments, signed documents that should have taken days to acquire, i was all too perfect, too convenient- but how does a teenage criminal and a cafe owner defend themselves against the weight of the law?

read on ao3 here

____

me? posting p5 fic in the year 2023? truly, i am back and worse than ever

a few years ago i had the idea to mess with the possible implications of ren being a part of the social work system, which when combined with the fact the pt are up against some corrupt government officials, who have the capacity to intervene with ren's home situation, puts him in a uniquely vulnerable position. this was the result!

[library-goblin]

You know when your mental pain becomes so bad that it turns physical? Because fuck that...

[phoenixdaneko]

Ooga booga what's this? Me actually writing a fic?

Holy shit

Uh anyway I'm gonna start up a few fics in my drafts on AO3 and then I'll probably put up a poll once they're all finished to see what y'all wanna see? I guess?

I have too many ideas so... yeah.

I'll actually get to writing like, chapters and shit later today because if I try rn they're def gonna just turn into jumbled messes. My brain is dead tired rn.

[bibibitchery]

unsure whether i have a personality or if i’m a walking list of diagnoses

[fuckyeahjcchasez]

Me, if I ever get my drivers licence, a car, and blared Schizophrenic out at full volume whilst zooming around the Central Coast area.

If you’re ever driving on the Central Coast of NSW and you hear someone blasting Schizophrenic at full volume, it’s me.

[captainjonnitkessler]

>Join a union

>Hear people constantly complaining that the current union leadership is super corrupt, it's all just the same ten guys making all the decisions in secret and nobody else in the union ever gets to know what's going on

>Go to the monthly union meetings that are completely open to all 1200 union members

>The only attendees are the same ten guys every month, giving detailed reports about everything that's going on

[letterbombbreakdown]

oh fuck good question

[ipoddymouth]

rob as poseidon something's purring

christopher nolan really said 'im listening and learning and making this movie specifically for miss ipodapalooza'

[vitrified-vitriol]

Don't listen to them. Do numbers. Make them intentionally incorrect. Make that the main part of your story. Make it obvious. Nobody mentions it.

speculative fiction writers i am going to give you a really urgent piece of advice: don't say numbers. don't give your readers any numbers. how heavy is the sword? lots. how old is that city? plenty. how big is the fort? massive. how fast is the spaceship? not very, it's secondhand.

the minute you say a number your readers can check your math and you cannot do math better than your most autistic critic. i guarantee. don't let your readers do any math. when did something happen? awhile ago. how many bullets can that gun fire? trick question, it shoots lasers, and it shoots em HARD.

you are lying to people for fun. if you let them do math at you the lie collapses and it's no fun anymore.

[itspixthecrazybitch]

Wow so I was a completely different person when I ran this blog. That’s fun.