no thoughts

who knows. not me. Also: the darn banner is trolling me

[writing-prompt-s]

Today there is a solar eclipse set to cover the sun with 100% totality for a duration of 4 minutes, 28 seconds. However as time passes, the eclipse continues for 5 minutes, then 7, then 10. Half an hour passes but the moon has not moved and Earth remains in darkness

[alalwayswrites]

Moon cat is hogging the sun's warmth again!

[alalwayswrites]

Art

[alalwayswrites]

Plants in water

[alalwayswrites]

An Elderly Lady Must Not Be Crossed by Helene Tursten. Good Book.

🍵

[writing-prompt-s]

You’re a kid whos mom was obsessed with a cult, and when you were just 12, she sacrificed you. You end in hell and expected to be tortured for eternity, but turns out the demon wanted a child of his own

[alalwayswrites]

Well, I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore.

I'm sat in a pool of blood and surrounded by pillars of fire that scrape an abyss of sky. The flames' roar deafens me as I cower from the red thing. Mom loved to chatter about the great demons she worshipped. Belphégor would devour their sacrifices whole, packing the poor suckers in a neverending---but suffocatingly cramped---void. Beelzebub would chain you up and tear you down. Each day, their victims would heal, and each day Beelzebub would give the miserable leeches something to heal from. I've always thought that a demon like Abaddon might even be tolerable to be sacrificed to, even if I'd be stuck watching them sleep for eternity, never moving.

But the demon in front of me? I don't know who they are. They don't have horns so much as they have a ring of writhing webbing that attaches at the temples. The demon could almost pass as a person, if you look only at their face. They look a bit like a crazy old guy, with their teeth stained and chipped and framed by wrinkles that shift creepily into mind-boggling patterns.

Then there's the demon's body: he has a snake for an arm! And big bat wings! On one hand, super cool. On the other...

That's super suss.

The demon slowly reaches out toward me with his other hand---a human hand---it's all wrinkly and disgusting. I don't want to touch it, but Mom taught me to be polite to potential future torturers.

"h..ell...o ch.il...d," their voice creaks out, as their hand rests on my head. Their fingers clumsily scratches my scalp, and I can't help but notice that their nails are so much sharper than they looked. I'm trembling, and I know it's not worth the energy, but my brain is right there. My brain is me: we learned all about it in science class. If his fingers dig in--nope nope nope.

"Uh, hey," I mumble. And wait. His hand shifts atop my head, and I keep myself still. Does he eat brains?!

They lift their hand and drag it back over to their side, shuffling through stuff in a bag that's slung across their body. Eventually, the demon creaks in success, and slowly unfolds their arm out to me to present some plastic. A ball of plastic. I look at the ball. I look at his face. I force on a smile. I take the wrinkly ball.

The plastic crinkles in my death grip as I maintain eye contact. I probably shouldn't look him in the eyes for so long, but I didn't notice the bag.

They gesture towards the ball, their human hand swaying towards it while their snake hand's neck is reaching out to me. I can't help but jerk my head away from it. Shuddering, I look at their "gift." What. I turn it over, reading the label printed all over it. I glance at the demon, and they have a really weird smile. I look back down at the cough drop. I look back at him.

"Thanks?" my voice cracks, and I cringe at the not-so-matcho pitch it reaches.

Their smile widens. "ch.il...d," their writhing halo shifts, "w..elc..o.m..e t.o... t..he f...am.i..ly."

I wait a beat.

You've got to be kidding me.

I stare at the demon and something clicks. Ohmygod he was trying to ruffle my hair.

[alalwayswrites]

Beep-beep!

[alalwayswrites]

Gluttony

An unsettling feeling sets in,

a tumult of nausea and

illness blankets my thoughts.

I have filled myself with

chocolate decadence,

glutted myself with

cups of tea.

I get up,

to get more?

Sweet velvet

with a crunch of salt

gilds my mind.

Or perhaps another

cup, to sooth the budding

anxiety. The thought of

liquid makes my stomach turn,

and food makes my tongue burn.

I get up, and I am no better.

I turn to my kitchen,

this is not right.

Then

It dawns

I HAVE TO PEE!!!

[alalwayswrites]

Tried to practice geometric stuff before I gave up and drew frens

[alalwayswrites]

I wrote a thing

Death and Ducks

A narrative about mythicity, and its uses in day-to-day life. By: Alicia Koogler Life “Being nice is a poor prognostic indicator,” Dr. Kruel

I wrote a story for a class, but I'm really proud of it. Enjoy this as if a hopeful toddler has just thrust their crayon drawing upon you.

Reading time: ~20 mins

[alalwayswrites]

Hello world

I am starting a journey of self discovery, of self importance. I will find the best way to take a nap, and I'll try not to sprain my ankle while doing it.