Rum, Omlettes, and an Open Desert

Sometimes the best fic you’ve ever written isn’t on ao3. It’s in 50 frenetic discord messages sent over a fifteen minute span where you and your friend yes and each other into a perfect story that will never actually be written.

trying to be a writer is so scary. like what if I’m actually a Wronger

No one ever talks about how heavy a checkovs gun is to carry through 100,000s of words and not fire it off to early or go “hehehehe” in the author notes.

Fontaines D. C. new album coming soon We Are So Back

"impulse buy" (noun) anything I have been low-key thinking about purchasing for 3 months, an item that subsequently spent 24-48 hours in my cart as I went through each and every state of grief, and which I then bought, in a desperate, the-guilt-can't-get-me-if-I'm-fast-enough rush.

yippeeee! *dives into my bed at the exact right angle that i phase through the molecules entering the fabled bedtime dimension and become cozy forever*

Floating face down in a blank word document file, while not physically possible, is nevertheless a tangible authorial state.

The thing about Guy Ritchie movies is he will cast an entire movie full of men built like the proverbial brick shithouse and then uses them to play with masculinity the way actual nine year old girls play with barbies

Most people I know had that one movie as a kid; that one movie that they would watch over and over and over to the resigned acceptance of their parents. I’ve always thought that movie says something about a person. What was your movie?

I bet it feels good as hell to loosen your tie 👔 yell 🗣"I QUIT!" 🚫‼️ throw up a flurry of papers 📃 and storm out the tall gray building 🏢 with a little box 📦 of your stuff including a cord dragging behind you and a small Plant 🪴 never to return 🥰

you can be both employed & way too online. it’s called “posting on the clock,” and actually, it’s praxis.