I See Nothing But The Candle In The Mirror

in a way john watson is a fantasy (what if you had this brilliant enigmatic friend and what if he liked you in particular and what if he offered you the excitement of youth and adventures and a way out of boring society life and all without having to actually give up your status as a gentleman so you could have the best of both worlds) and in a way sherlock holmes is a fantasy (what if someone never got tired of you despite your various strange habits and mood swings and instead of simply tolerating you they genuinely liked you and what if you didn’t have to live alone forever and what if you never had to give up doing the things you love) and of course there’s the most fantastical part of it all (what if you could afford london housing prices)

Well, famously they can't actually afford London housing, that's the whole reason they met.

(so mad i can’t see straight) Yeah i just don’t think chat gpt is a good classroom tool

We've all gotten just a bit too comfortable being jerks to strangers on the internet I think

You said it better than I could. Of all the inane and ridiculous things I've seen in my notes because of this post, "I NEED to say fuck you to strangers or I will literally die" is certainly one of them

I am so tired of short-attention-span, trim-the-fat culture. All writing advice these days is for how to write like Chuck Palahniuk. "Cut 'think', cut 'feel', cut 'wonder' - only action, only pushing forward, show and move and move and move." What if I could emulate this style, and still don't want to? What if I want to write like Henry James, with three paragraphs of introspective musings between each dialogue line? The music advice is, "make it shortform, make it Tik-Tok compatible, make it punchy, hit the refrain as soon as possible." What if I want that 10-minute prog rock piece? What if I want that symphony? What if I want it slow and luxurious and lazy? Movies. Series. Poetry. Bodies. Everything is "trimmed trimmed trimmed trimmed, stripped bare, you have three seconds to win me over, make it airport chic." I don't want to win you over, then, I guess. I want the fat left it. I want the pleasure and the indolence and the indulgence. Fuck this art-advice that's always "your art needs Ozempic."

everyone's all about queer subtext until it's aromantic or asexual

what is it about the rain that makes me want to bite someone

so turns out i was hungry and now the rain is bearable who knew

[ID: A photo of someone's hand, holding a silce of carrot cake like a cigarette. Text reads "a lil something to take the edge off". End ID]