shel

sundays rule number 1: DON'T THINK ABOUT YOUR LIFE

i sit down to write and suddenly i am the most distracted human alive. the chair is uncomfortable. my coffee is too hot. my playlist isn't quite the vibe. i need to research what victorian houses smelled like in 1872 for exactly 45 minutes even though my story takes place in space. and yet the moment i'm trying to fall asleep? every single sentence i've ever needed just lines up perfectly in my brain like some kind of creative parade i'll never get back.

Tomorrow is the first day of my face to face classes and I feel terrified to socialize with people I haven't seen for 2 years.

This was 2 years ago, what─ (I won't be seeing them again.)

My absolute favourite genre of science pictures is scientists posing with massive grins and a double thumbs up next to some abyss-dwelling elder monstrosity that the sea itself spat back up onto the beach

nice things will happen but first you have to lose all hope and die 45 times

spending too much time alone is a scam because i start to think i understand things to an extent but as soon as i go back into the world i feel 14