lee

likes: pretty words and pretty boys. writes: pretty words about pretty boys. /// message me whenever i promise i'm friendly

[chewingthescenery]

15 Reasons to Have a Panic Attack and 7 Reasons Not To

Hello. Hi. I, um. I'm not doing too well, boss. I mean, I guess I'm doing *fine,* like, I'm not suicidal or anything, but I'm certainly not doing great. I'm kinda freaking out. Losing my shit. Wanting to scream and throw things just so the doctors can sedate me like they do on Grey's Anatomy (y'all watch Grey's, right? Or, like not all of it--cause who has the time--but enough to know the scene where Christina is sobbing on her hospital bed and screaming SOMEBODY SEDATE ME. That's how I feel right now. And, no, I'm not going to do the work of looking up what episode it's from. It's an earlier one, though. Um, sorry. You'll have to do that research yourself. It'll be good practice. The way I'm practicing how not to have a panic attack.)

Which is what this post is about--panic attacks. The one I'm currently trying very hard not to have. I... am losing it, just a bit. Earlier today, I watched the two trashbags I had piled on top one one another slowly fall to the floor. My face as I saw this blatant act of neuton's law of gravity was horror-movie-worthy. I just stared in abject terror as... a plastic bag slid off of another plastic bag... slightly ruslting... I was momentarily convinced of the existence of ghosts or demons or maybe trash racoons with malicious intent. And then I realized: hey, I'm not doing well. That was insane, the thought I jsut had. It was buckwild crazy. I am an athiest. Why does my lack of religion depend entirely on whether I'm currently spooked? It doesn't work in reverse--I don't have a good day and start seeing angels in the distance--I only get anxiety-provoked demonic spirituality. Which is dumb. This is relatable, right? God, I hope so. Don't send the cops my way. They won't be able to help. At best, I will be able to call them pigs and do some activism. At worse, they'll slaughter me like a pig, and Y'ALL will have to do the activism. (Is that too dark a joke to make? Is police brutality humor gauche? Especially during pride month?)

Anyway, so I've been trying not to lose my everloving mind by playing guitar and reading books and ignoring my responsibilities. It's funny how depression makes you want to stay in bed bc what's the fucking point anyway? and anxiety makes you wanna hide UNDER the bed and watch the feet past by. I actually can't hide under my bed because like half of my wardrobe is there for somereason and also a bat, so I couldn't fit, and also I'm scared of roaches eating me alive. (Picture this, you're a pretty t-girl and fifteen fuckin roaches start crawling into your holes like that scene in SUPER FROG SAVES TOKYO. Are you picturing it? Okay, now try to stop picturing it. Now picture being unable to stop picturing it. That's what anxiety is like.) Is any of this coherent? Am I even making sense? Or will this be used against me in a court case to deem me legally incompetant? I am legally competent. Unless there are charges against me, then I am dumb dumb dumb. Wait, actually, if there's charges against me, put me in the same prison as Luigi Mangione. I know I have a lot of competition but I think I can seduce him. I have to. For the culture.

Wait, what the hell was I talking about? Panic attacks. I'm scared of having panic attacks. That's part of panic disorder--not just the attacks but the fear around the attacks. It's like a one-two punch. Being anxious makes you anxious about having a panic attack, which brings your anxiety up to the point where you'll have a panic attack. Isn't that grand? With mental illnesses like these, who needs systemic oppression to make life not worth living? (Was that also too dark? Let me state again, for the record, that I am not a danger to myself or others. I must live so I can seduce Luigi Mangione. When he's gone, all bets are off, though.)

Half of this post has been in parentheses, which I think is illegal, but I have managed to not put any parentheses INSIDE my parentheses like I susually do (not that there's anything wrong with doing that (I think) (hoenstly, I don't know, but it feels like something my grade school tachers would get mad at me for) (but honestly screw them! I'm young and pretty and in serious debt. I'm living the life. While they're probably wondering if they can afford retirement right now. Take THAT Mr. Golf.) (Also, who's name is fucking GOLF. No one with the name Golf should be around children. it just isn't right.)) (And yes I did do that entire aside to I could put parentheses in parenthees. So I like irony? Sue me. Or, please don't. I can't afford any legal bills right now. Or non-legal bills. I just can't afford bills. Could y'all send me some money? Pretty please with a t-girl on top? No? Not even fetishizing myself will work? Damn. And to think I was just about to show hole.))

Now I've SERIOUSLY forgotten what I was talking about, but I'm sure it -- OH YEAH ANXIETY. I'm still anxious. I think anxious nervous energy is the only explanation for the way I've been writing in this post. LIKE A MANIAC. Is this how Stephen King felt when he was on cocaine? Scared and unwell but still typing typing typing? Should I try cocaine? Comment below if I should try cocaine. Like and share to get me to do cocaine. I'm excited. I've always wanted some snow. Wait, but it cossts money, right? I don't have that. If you voted that I should do cocaine, please send me the cocaine you want me to do. This is crowdsourced drug use. I'm gonna start a gofundme, maybe a kickstarter. #GoFundMyOverdose Let's get it trending worldwide.

Alright, alright, not funny, I know, but I'm just trying to distract myself from the fact that I've already taken my crazy pills and yet I'm still feeling crazy. Sometimes crazy pills make you more crazy, like mine help my depression but without the depression fog I have way more energy to be a nervous wreck. It's kind of like if they cured your full body paralysis only to realize, when you started shaking, that you've also been having grand mal seizures. Why the hell aren't I on disability when I'm so damned disabiled? Oh yeah, because getting on disability takes a lot of work. Which is hard to do. When you're disabiled. What a wonderful world we live in...

I just realized this post is called 15 reasons to have a panic attack and 7 reasons not to, and I completely abandoned that theme. Like, I didn't even try. There's still time, I guess? Nah, I'm sure you can go through this post and find my fifteen reasons. Think of it like a game. Yeah. I'm not lazy, this post is just a piece or ergodic literature that must be consumed backwards and forwards. It is what you make of it. In other news, please put a good word in for me for a nobel prize. Or a pulitzer. I honestly can't remember which is which right now. Whatever one you get for writing irreverent yet rambling blog posts. Nobody even blogs anymore anyway, so I don't know why I'm doing this. Ego. Boredom. Or, oh yeah, distraction from the panic attacks. If I keep typing, I won't have to face reality. Just type type type type. Whatever you want, just type. Type until your fingers fall off, until you get carpet's tunnel or whatever the fuck it's called. Carpenter's funnel. Cars fell ton er. Carpe diem. Whatever. Whatever whatever whatever. Give me attention. Or Xanax. Or, like, a hug. Yeah, that's really what I need. A hug. Ideally from Luigi Mangione, who should be my hugsband. (Which is a husband who you don't fuck or share finances with, but you do hug. Very chaste. very christian. I'm sure his family would approve. Oh, and also I get to lick his abs.) 

Now I have reached a state of physical terror asousal (not sexual arousal) that I need to quickly start doing something else or else I will actually lose my mind. Or, lose more of my mind. Lose what's left of it. I think I have the brain stem and the cerabellum left. I lost the prefontal cortex watching TikTok. The visual cortex died from sitting too close to the TV as a kid. And the rest was lobotomized that one time I went to the psych ward. 

Good night and good bye my little maniacs. 

Stay cray, 

Lea. 

[chewingthescenery]

Breaking news: Ethel Cain and Lana Del Rey have decided to stop fighting their racism allegations and instead fight each other

[skodasforge]

Ten thousand reincarnations and you think they never once boned? Weak.

[skodasforge]

Not even a lil smoochie smoochie? Over Millenia of being the only constant in their never ending cycles of rebirth?

[chewingthescenery]

misread this as "coochie smoochie" and i was like, yeah that works

[chewingthescenery]

Fairies & Hedonism

I would like to thank you all for supporting me on my writing journey. I am so happy to announce that I have fully outlined my brand new spicy romantasy series! I promise it will be unlike anything you've ever read before, and I'm giving you all a sneak peak! Constructive criticism always appreciated but never accepted <3

Book One: A Cock of Horny Hoes

The first book in the trilogy is always a fan favorite! This one introduced our main character, Effemcee, and her growling bad boy alpha love interest, who doesn't need a name! Tropes include: grumpy x sunshine, he falls first, touch her and you die, touch him and he dies, everyone dies eventually because we're mortal, and TONS of smut! Here's the back cover synopsis:

Effemcee was nineteen when she was teleported to the world of fairies and hedonism. She got laid about twenty times before the Greek Moon Festival, when she realized she had contracted magic herpes—or “Black Sparkle,” as the fae called it. It took two weeks in the nude lagoon to cure it, and that also (as it happens) turned her into a fairy. So now she can’t go home. But at least she can suck more fairy dick—and maybe become a princess?

Book Two: A Dick So Deep and Deadly

Things get SUPER serious in book two, so trigger warning for magic pussy powers! (And also vore.)

Effemcee was twenty when the ancient, reviled Big Dick Demons invaded her fair fairy lands. They pillaged, harassed, and seduced even the highest fae—including her fairy lover, the king—leaving her the queen of a broken kingdom. In order to end the rampage, she is forced into an arranged marriage with the Big Dick Demon warlord, whose dick is the biggest and most demonic of them all. Surely he will use his big dick powers to control her and her kingdom politically, but she must not let him. For she has powers of her own: her tight fairy pussy powers. In one great orgy, her people fight back the only way they know how, and she ends up absorbing the Big Dick Demon warlord into her womb, vanquishing him. But now, he’s growing into their child—a half demon, half fairy—and the effects might kill her!

Book Three: Breastfallen: a Faries & Hedonism novel

At this point in my publishing journey, I'll probably already be stupid fucking rich and won't have to put any effort into my craft anymore, but that just means I can write whatever I want and still get it published! Yippee! Anticipating this freedom, I have made a conclusion to my series that will annoy and frustrate all my fans and validate the concerns of all my critics! :)

And, in keeping with publishing trends, book three will be several times the length of the other books for no good reason. Enjoy!

Despite being the one who vanquished the Big Dick Demon warlord, Effemcee finds herself missing him. But, soon, her womb child speaks to her, revealing itself to be the Big Dick Demon himself, reincarnate. She is horrified, but horny. When she gives birth, two things come out of her—an actual child, part fae and part demon—and her old demon lover. They reunite: her tight pussy powers cleansed him of darkness! Now they can make a million babies and rule as a cross species power couple.  But—oh no!—her old fairy lover has returned! He wants her hand in marriage despite leaving her for a demon back in book two! He challenges her Demon to a duel to the death, and she remembers what made her fall in love with him—the fact that his dick was so big it could be used as a weapon. They fight, and it breaks her heart. They both end up mortally wounded, so she uses her fairy powers (with help from her fairy-demon kid) to combine their fleeting lifeforce into one being, in hopes that they’ll survive.  They do! Now her fairy lover and demon lover are one! A beautiful fairy demon with an even bigger dick! They fuck her and she becomes pregnant once again, but what would a child made of fairy-demon-fairy blood be capable of? A sequel series, of course!

I anticipate becoming a Kindle bestseller more or less immediately, provided I make sure the fairy lover is always growling and his eyes are always darkening. Repeating that my main character is white and skinny should also help. I am currently looking to commission fanart of the Big Dick Demon warlord to use as cover art, but I'm not sure any known artist would be able to depict all twenty-seven of his abs.

[mirrorbreaks]

More of this please

[mirrorbreaks]

[albatris]

alex puts up with so much

and totally not foreshadowing diabetic vampire talk

[teathattast]

Hehe hope u enjoyed my limited edition lore 😈

[chewingthescenery]

Read this as "hope u enjoyed my limited edition love" and I was about to say "relatable"

[seven-oh-four]

I'm still pretty new to chess, can anyone tell me what I'm supposed to do if my opponent plays the Eight Fucking Bears opening? I'm really having trouble.

[chewingthescenery]

i normally go for the 12 fucking eagles defense, but u could always just throw 8 fucking bears back and see how much they like that

[elidyce]

On Writer’s Block

I’ve been listening to another book on writing - Save The Cat! Writes A Novel - and while I greatly enjoyed almost all of it, and found it very helpful, at the very end there was a phrase that made me want to punch the wall. 

“There’s no such thing as writer’s block or plotter’s block. There’s only perfectionist’s block.”

The author, Jessica Brody, gave credit for this nonsense to another author, Emily Hainsworth, and I freely admit that I wished both of them great ill at this point in the book. 

I’ve made posts on this subject before… I think?… but never mind, I’m going to do it again. 

People who say ‘there’s no such thing as writer’s block’ or ‘just push through it’ are like people who say ‘there’s no such thing as PMS’ or ‘depressed people could cheer up if they wanted to’. Only someone who’s never experienced it would say something that stupid. And those of us who have tend to react something along the lines of ‘I HATE YOU, YOU SMUG BASTARD, I HOPE YOU DIE DIE DIE’. (One of my PMS symptoms is intensely homicidal thoughts! Fun!) 

But I think part of the problem is that ‘Writer’s Block’ is actually a blanket term, like ‘mental illness’ or ‘chronic pain’. There are multiple types, multiple causes, and multiple ways of handling them. No one approach will work for all of them, and what works great for one will actively worsen another

Here are the four kinds I know about. There may be more, but these are the ones I’ve experienced personally. 

Keep reading

[chewingthescenery]

Omg guys my dash if so dead so if ure a tumblr please like this post, reblog it, follow me, cashapp me $50, and send me an ask telling me im pretty so I can follow u!!!!!!

[kosmo-mckogane]

rereading my own writing is just a constant fluctuation between "damn, girl, you wrote this? (affectionate)" and "damn, girl, you wrote this? (derogatory)"

[annlillyjose]

the writeblr urge to reintro yourself every two months because you keep changing and every two weeks you look at yourself and go tf is that?

[kiramartinauthor]

WHY YOU SHOULD WRITE HORRIBLY:

1. You’ll never write anything if you don’t

[dallonwrites]

[image description: a collection of pale pink jellyfish against a black background. in the middle, in a bold serif font, reads “@dallonm”. below it, in a slightly smaller font reads “writeblr nav”. /end id]

writeblr intro except i was already here oops

Hi! My name is Dallon and I’m a 21 year old transmasc writer (he/him). I mainly write literary and contemporary fiction, but I love anything that is character driven and more vibes than plot.

More about me and my blog:

I’m in my final year of my English Literature degree and would like to do a Creative Writing masters

I’m autistic and this plays a big role in my writing and characters

I want to be published, but I mainly write for fun! For me writing is both a skill and an artform and I don’t put too much pressure on myself to “succeed”. I always prioritise my joy for my art 

Very big advocate for gentle writing, taking care of yourself as a writer, and doing whatever works for you and your goals! Whilst I share advice here, this is only what works for me

I share excerpts, short story intros, monthly updates, and anything I feel like sharing! My blog is more for me to document my progress and anyone who is interested can join along

I am tag game friendly! I just may not get back to it straight away. I also don’t always do last line tags. 

I only have one taglist for now, a general taglist that gets tagged in all of my writing updates. I may do separate taglists for novels in the future, but for now if you want to be tagged in my updates, then ask to be on my general taglist!

Some boundaries

Whilst minors can interact, pls remember I am an adult and some of my wips are directed at adults. Whilst I don’t write anything explicit please take note of this, especially if I warn that the content in a post may not be suitable for minors. I also likely won’t follow you back if you are under 16, no hard feelings! 

I rarely have anon on for asks, as much as I would like to I’ve had bad experiences in the past </3. If you want me to answer an ask privately, or answer without showing your username (in my own text post where I reference the question), just let me know in the ask! 

You do not have to be mutuals with me to interact with my work, tag me in games, etc! I use tumblr sporadically and often forget to follow people 

Current WIPS

Revelations, Revelations: Adult Literary. Twins Felix and Dorothy reunite in 1980s San Francisco after two years apart, where they try to repair their broken relationship, heal from religious trauma, and reckon with the fact that they are not good people. my biggest baby <3 the novel i will never finish <3 

Us, In Watercolour: Contemporary. Before heading off to Universities on opposite ends of the country, siblings/best friends Cyrus and Alana - who collaborate on paintings together - put all their part time savings into a final summer road trip together. But with the taste of living freely and fear of the unknown future - and space to finally process their childhood - neither want to go home 

I Am Made Of Indigo: Adult Literary. A closeted trans man moves back home after graduating university to broken family dynamics and a seven year old sister looking to him for a new mother figure. 

Not Without Our Ghosts: Adult Literary. AU/Spin Off for Revelations, Revelations. Felix and Beau have very different experiences of queerness. But they both have trauma, both want to heal, and they slowly bond over a common goal: to make art that’ll last forever.

How To Swallow Matchsticks: Pending title for my short story collection. I write about messy relationships and self destruction. highlights include: a transmasc teenager reckons with girlhood when he baptises himself for a second time, a grad student processing her break up with the live bats her roommate smuggled into their apartment, ace lesbians teaming up against the commune they spend their summers on, a girl befriending the girl in the missing person reports, a cat that might be god, trans boys trying to be god

[ijaazat]

nothing more powerful than a girl with a monologue going on in her head all the time... alone in her room... plotting... planning

[ballwizard]

if they put me in a big pot of soup i would be fine.

[leave-her-a-tome]

No longer a writer I've changed careers to fool