“june is over so now it’s gay wrath month” blah blah reminder that july is disability pride month and is often ignored and disregarded!! funnel that wrath into advocating for your disabled peers and amplifying their voices
Sorta pathetic meow meow blonde who is locked away from the rest of humanity against their will with a non-human companion who is snarky, observant, direct despite lacking full command of the human tongue
Has to deal with a quirked up man with undeniable charisma who uses it for questionable means and has crazy good hair despite the circumstance and whose main opp is a white animal
Everyone's stoked that as we get closer to 25, the prefrontal cortex develops.
i'm just happy i can start tasting what wine does in foods! I can detect the taste of mirin and subtler flavors! THE FOOD IS FLAVORFUL AND EACH CHOICE FEELS MORE MEANINGFUL!
(Just wants to find the boss) (wants to know where the bathroom is) (is deeply traumatized by something) (probably has a thing for the quiet office worker she encounters and offers to help)
Shock horror, the nonbinary ASBR (assigned stoner by roommate) LOVES the surrealist/absurdist gender nonconforming media.
I love Ena, sketching them as Vogue poses is so fun, cause Vogue poses are supposed to be tight and stretched... but Ena can jus... dislocate her everything.
1) working on [insert thing] seems scary
2) avoids for a bit until i'm too stressed to not work on it
3) dives in, it's ok
4) huh, it's kind like swimming! i just need to tread water and i'll be oka-AUGGHGHGHGHHG
5) SOMETHING TOUCHED MY FOOT, OH MY GOD
6) IT WAS SLIMY AND WEIRD
7) AAHHAHAHAAAAAAHGHHGHGHHGGHHGH
8) success!
Maybe it is just about the fact my orchid, who I've been obsessing over the last month, suffered and survived a root rot attack.
And still dropped 2 blossoms that I worked so hard to grow. Maybe that's it.
I've been feeling a lot of frustration lately, frustration that I've been monitoring and tempering out so I don't crash out.
I'm that annoying type of guy who runs head first into situations knowing that failure and rejection is likely, yet does it anyway. And then cries and licks his wounded ego afterwards when things predictably don't go his way. And is painfully aware that a lot of it comes from cowardly acceptance of "I'm not trying my best, because what if I try my best and it still sucks."
Maybe this is why I talk myself up a bit more or run my mouth more or do anything that maybe I don't have the true courage to put my all into. Maybe that's why I've never consistently done art to become a self sustained artist, or I struggled a lot in college honors, or struggle to even leave my bed and mindspace to work on cosplays or drag.
I'm aware of the crushing weight of rejection, yet my curiosity pushes my forward, but my cowardly need to protect myself by self doubt holds me back. My weird need to push, pull, push, test, write, analyze, try again, speak my mind, say the truth, ask a question, get rejected, rejection, passed over, chosen but not the best, chosen but with strings. Getting by on the skin of my teeth for lack of having the courage to really try.
But Ivan, my orchid, my precious child. He's different. I tried to put my all in him. And I failed him. His dried flowers that never bloomed. Because of root rot I didn't notice until too late. Not because I didn't try to begin with. But this crushing realization that I did. And it wasn't good enough.
But he's still alive for now. And so am I.
So I will get up out of bed, brush away the dried buds, check his water, and try again.
stormborns
dailybridgerton
areudirty
germansingergirl
discoholicmusic
gracieabrams
2087
tangentwithtanner
baratheonpilled
