Unlimited Bitter Works

i’d follow him to hell and back but i wish he’d just stop going there

Me screenshotting nice comments on my work for the bad depressive dips.

talking to people you want to get to know as if they're already your friends is a terrible terrible piece of advice that people online love giving out. but i think what people are trying to say when they suggest this is that you should talk to people you want to get to know as if they're your peers. which is a subtle but important distinction. the former is extremely overfamiliar and often because of this ends up making you seem rude, but the latter is more about conducting your conversations with someone as if it is unremarkable and low stakes for the two of you to be speaking together. which is only* rude if the person you're talking to thinks they're above having normal conversations with randos, in which case, probably not worth your time to befriend anyway.

i do not “delete sentences” when they start “hindering the plot” i COPY PASTE THEM into a SEPARATE DOC made just for keeping all my USELESS LINES that i will also NEVER USE so therefore i should JUST DELETE THEM but i DONT because id FEEL BAD if i did

You don't actually have to kill your darlings. You can just put them in the oubliette #myoubliette

As fucked up and traumatized and emotionally unavailable as my father was… he fuckin tried. He tried so goddamn hard. Went to PARENTING CLASSES on HIS OWN. Taught himself HOW TO READ so he could read me bedtime stories. He taught me how to be independent. How to stand up for myself. How to fight back. He taught me how to not need men like him.

My dad broke down in fucking tears once because he wasn’t doing (in his estimation) a good enough job of braiding my hair before school

This fucking guy got dumped by my mom in the middle of the night. She just fucking ditched both of us. He became an alcoholic from the pain, can’t blame him. But then he saw the way it was hurting me. And he pulled his shit together. HIMSELF. No rehab. No AA. Stupid motherfucker went cold turkey at home alone except for me and I held his hands while he begged god for mercy through his DTs.

Dad would fuckin play Mockingbird for me because he was so bad with words and needed me to know how he felt.

My dad taught himself how to read at the age of like 45 so that he could read me Harry Potter as a bedtime story after my mom left and it still makes me emotional. Like he cared that much.

To all my writer friends who are on the struggle bus/suffering from writer's block/just dealing with life stuff right now!

[wishing so bad to vaguepost but not wanting to send harassment after anyone] i saw a post. and it was bad.