I wish all writers who haven’t been able to write in a long time bc of depression a very I love u and I promise u will write again
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@infinitiae
I wish all writers who haven’t been able to write in a long time bc of depression a very I love u and I promise u will write again
me, finishing the last chapter of an unfinished fanfiction: i’m so excited to see what happens!!
fanfiction: *last updated four years ago*
me:
idk maybe this is just me, but it never ends
How the past few days have been, seen through some highly specific memes:
if you’re ever about to comment on a writer’s work and think, oh, they probably know how good they are, you’re definitely wrong. every time a writer posts or publishes anything, no matter how many years they’ve been doing it and no matter how many readers they have, they are struck with the idea that perhaps they aren’t very good at all.
if you think you’re annoying for commenting, or that we won’t see your comments anyway, you’re wrong. we see your comments. we actively look for them. we are starved for them no matter how many we get. we remember them and they fuel us. leave comments, even if it’s just saying “oh i like this”. i see an “oh i like this” and my heart grows three times its size and i am seized with an urge to provide you more writing just to hear you say “oh i like this” again.
Don’t need to worry about no one She said I got her if I want She’s so soft like silk chiffon
it’s easy for hobbies to turn into things we avoid because of the pressure we put on ourselves. but i promise, u have nothing to prove. if u enjoy drawing, draw!! it doesn’t have to be museum worthy. ur baking doesn’t need to be master chef worthy every time you do it. hobbies are hobbies because they make you happy and u enjoy doing them. there is no pressure for u to become a professional in everything u enjoy; enjoy it for the lack of pressure. try and let yourself participate in things without tying ur worth to the final products. if it makes you happy, anything that comes from that is worth it.
to the 300 people who still follow me even though i no longer offer anything (and will probably continue to do so forever), thank u for ur service
writing fanfics is wild because you could have 12000 people read it and get like, seven comments
just tried to read my fic out loud and ew
do fic commenters know how Important and Powerful they are. like when someone tells u they actually laughed out loud or cried or screamed or buried their face in their pillow or something and ur just like.....i've done it....i have elicited a Physical Manifestation of Emotion....tf....i feel so powerful....
or when they tell you they stayed up late or read it at work or school when they weren't supposed to and you don't wanna encourage that but also......yeeEEEHAW
or when u get regular commenters on a wip and ur like brO bro??? you're still here? after all this time? even after i didn’t update for months?? 🥺
or when someone says it's their favorite fic and u just gotta lie in the floor and Emote for a while
or when they say the characters feel in character and u just disintegrate into glitter and blow away in the wind bc your purpose as a fic writer has been fulfilled,,,
yeah
THIS OH MY GOD EXACTLY
Why haven’t I finished my fic yet I want to read it
Found this while looking for something earlier and I feel called out lmao
On the mornings your mouth is filled with the bitter taste from hollow tragedies of last night, where your memory is haunted by the brokenness of everything you once thought would be forever there, I hope you remember how once, you were new enough to the world that everything seemed like a joyous adventure. I hope one day you heal enough from all this pain and go back to who you used to be. Just a human looking out at the world, astonished by its beauty.
- Nikita Gill, Notes on Survival #4
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the lonely hearts club, eighteen
Unlike her, the sound of the rain doesn’t wake him. He’s still deep in his sleep, his breathing even, and she finds comfort in the sound of his soft breathing.
The comfort, however, is fleeting.
Because the moment memories of last night come flooding back into her mind, her heart thumps wildly against her chest, threatening to leave her body. She can’t believe she’d been that bold, that forward with him last night. They might have not crossed that line but they crossed a lot of lines.
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