Doing this again because it's been a while.

Greetings, I'm Statue aka Big Man Sculpt aka King Sculpted aka Wirevein aka Big Man Steel. Long Live the Sculpt/Glory to the Cog.

Cishet guy, he/him. Just about a minor.

Potentially neuro-divergent but idk got no diagnosis.

I hail from India. English be my third tongue (first and second being Marathi and Hindi respectively).

I write. Mostly poetry, but also short fiction. Been writing since I was 13-ish. Hobbyist. One of those "Perpetually a newcomer" types, but I'm trying to practice more.

I also make art. Love making art highly recommend. Been doing it for as long as I can remember. Still a perpetual newcomer but I digress.

Was originally meant to be a writing blog but I have mutuals who heed no such commandments. So everything blog it is. Might make separate ones for different stuff if I feel the need to.

I don't understand how Tumblr works.

Fandoms:

Dragon Ball

Mcyt (Life Series, Hermitcraft and POWCreations) (I have a side blog for mcyt stuff @block-man-sculpt)

LOTR

Arcane

Among others.

I got politics. Dirty little anarkiddie no gods no masters baby 🏴 specifically an Anarcho-Egoist (Max Stirner my beloved), but don't know the specifics of my socialism, as I'm pretty new to radical politics. Won't be too political on this blog (might make another one if I feel like it) but basic stuff like Anti-Fascism, Anti-Capitalism, Progressivism, Egalitarianism will be in the mix to a degree. Fuck bigotry and fascism (ashamed "sa"varna brahmin lol), fuck hindutva and brahminism, fuck the state and capitalism.

Please don't DM me out of nowhere unless I already know you or if we have already interacted several times before.

Tags:

straightupsculptingit- casual, funny or miscellaneous stuff.

longlivethesculpt- serious stuff.

carveduponanother'sboulder- reblogs.

Sub-Tags (will be paired with one of the main tags):

carvedcontours- poetry.

eruditeeffigies- writing.

chiseledontostone- art.

A slow, crackling boil holds my heart captive. Sickness churns in my gut. The mind decays every passing moment, a shroud coiling around it in sweet, gentle fatality. It tries to siphon me from myself. I waste away, sword in hand that I've only ever brandished at most.

The sprawling hills in their might, the bustling city in its grandeur, the wisdom of the culture, the autonomy of the chamber, the people in their cushioning warmth. The endless hills in their callous greatness, the sulking city in its choking hubris, the cruel foolishness of the culture, the dim rot of the chamber, the people in their grinding bitterness.