#crself

(or at the very least this is something I do that helps me in more ways than one)

Write love letters to yourself.

Personally, I write four. One to myself as myself, one to my DRself as myself (whoever I may be focusing on that day), one to DRself as my DRself, and one to myself as my DRself.

I try to do this at least twice a week. It has the benefits of:

Improving my self-esteem

Helping me see the good in myself

Get into 'character' as my DRself

Find the insecurities my DRself has and how they differ from mine

Feeling more grounded in general

Sometimes these turn into rants about my day and what what wrong and that's okay too! It gives me a moment to breathe and let everything else. I always end these on a positive note so as to center myself again.

The city rolled underneath the tires of Dane’s Road King. Old memories of men in battle and their deaths. He remembered the pyres built. He remembered it all. Over it was over a millennia ago and it was all still fresh in his memory. With a groan, he pulled the throttle and headed to meet with his employer.

“Dane, I own the soul. The head was a little gift for your buddy. They have the rest of it.” Ira had been in her office when Dane found her. “You can get the body if you want.”

“What’s the catch?” Dane knew there would be a catch. Demons rarely did anything out of the kindness of their hearts. They weren’t programmed that way.

“Get me the soul of their leader.” She flashed a grin and reached into her desk. “His soul would be a fair trade for the location of the demigod’s body, don’t you think.”

“Where do I have to go?” Dane held out his hand for the file. He had to hand it to the demons. They kept very organized records of the souls they own. As he opened the file, there was Baldo’s name. It had all of his stats as well as his soul purity. Dane never cared much for it. The whole concept was arbitrary to him. What did it matter how pure or unpure your soul was? 

He skipped down to the details on the death of the demigod and looked up at Ira. “Cannibals. Shapeshifting cannibals.” Ira gave a shrug. “And what happens if they already ate the body?”

“Not my problem. Bring me their leader.” Ira may have looked like a beautiful kind woman but beneath the skin, she was a festering wound of wrath. She had zero cares outside of her own needs and desires. “You do remember how to claim a soul, don’t you?”