Squishy on the Inside

The older I get, the stayer I home.

what i’ve learned in my life is if someone is treating you poorly and youre asking yourself “what magic words can I use to make this person treat me with basic respect,” those words don’t exist and they never will.

It is easy to think writing only becomes real when someone reads it, likes it, comments on it, publishes it, buys it, validates it. But the work already mattered when you made it. You practiced attention. You built a scene from nothing. You turned a feeling into language. You learned one tiny thing about craft. An audience can give the work a second life, yes. But the first life happens when you sit down and make it.

Something so funny about rereading one's own unfinished fics. Like wow this is pretty good! Almost as if was written exactly according to what I personally like in fact! Someone should finish it!

apologies to anyone who ever thought i was cool and reached out to me only to discover i am just a weird little hermit who can't carry on a conversation to save my life

Somehow being a person does not come naturally to me