PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
i don't do bad sauce passes
JBB: An Artblog!
Claire Keane
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Game of Thrones Daily
styofa doing anything
No title available
$LAYYYTER
★
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
noise dept.
almost home
Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor
todays bird
dirt enthusiast
🪼
cherry valley forever
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@rubyiswriting
The one bad thing about when you've been pouring all of your writing energy/creative effort into original material, is that you can't post chunks of it online to feed fandom spaces like throwing fish food into a pond, and thus it makes it seem like you aren't writing/haven't written in months/have given up on the hobby
I promise I'm not dead, nor have I stopped writing, I'm just working on outlines for my own shit, and thus can't really post it yet
YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOU CAN CRAFT A COMPLETE SENTENCE! YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOU USE THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF COMMAS! YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOUR PROSE IS GOOD AND RIGHT! YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! EVERYONE UNDERSTANDS YOUR VISION!
YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOU USE A NORMAL AMOUNT OF ADVERBS!
YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOU CAN CRAFT A COMPLETE SENTENCE! YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOU USE THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF COMMAS! YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOUR PROSE IS GOOD AND RIGHT! YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! EVERYONE UNDERSTANDS YOUR VISION!
YOU'RE A REGULAR WRITER! YOU USE A NORMAL AMOUNT OF ADVERBS!
fool count: 2
YOU’RE A REGULAR
WRITER! YOU USE A NORMAL
AMOUNT OF ADVERBS!
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
The best part about turning 30 was, legitimately, unlocking the ability to use this image
i am writing all the time except just like inside of me and not outside
'Ya know... a lesser man might find that insulting... but since I'm even lower than that guy, I don't really care.'
Eyes ablaze with lust and passion and a spark of something sweet
I wish I was dead.
No...I don't wish I was dead-- I just wish I liked being alive more
If u see typos no u don’t
This is a little personal, but it has to do with personification of objects and my writing so like-- fitting??
But back in my high school creative writing class, we had to write a short story based on an surrealist painting, and I choose one of a house in the dark--
hang on--
okay, fuck I think I found it--
it was one of Rene Magritte's paintings-- one of the Empire of Lights ones
but so I had to write this short story-- and I wrote it from the perspective of like-- a bitter house that sat empty after it's owner left suddenly one day-- and it's just sitting and stewing in it's anger watching all the other houses get lived in and warmed, and it ends with some men it doesn't know but that have a key coming in and starting to clear it out and it finds out through listening in on their conversation that the old man who lived there died, and it ends with the house sitting dark and alone and consumed by the echoing feeling that it will never be warmed by the life of it's owner again.
And one of the major steps for this was a second draft, and that was kinda the first time that I had really done a second draft like-- all the way through on my writing, and it was also the only thing I had written in a long time that was a fully original work.
And I remember after the second draft my teacher kind of loved it?? I could tell he was actually very proud of how I managed to work the story out??
And I dunno, it was the first time I really left like a writer??
And both the first draft and second have been long since lost to-- life...
but man, I still think about that story... I really wish I could re-read it...
I also keep thinking about potentially re-writing it someday...
And maybe I will-- I dunno.
Part of me thinks it'll be like that painting from college I remembered loving but when I finally found it again and finally looked at it, I kinda hated it actually?? That was another time my teacher was more excited in my work that I was most definitely <XD
but ye... idk... point is, I'm rambling
A parroted little cacophony of odds and ends.
It was like every piece of me was floating away, and I couldn't quite catch them.
updated my links and such
still not much to put anywhere atm, but I'll try and keep this blog posted with original works when they happen
I would say I have a few cooking at the moment, but honestly I have a few cooking a little bit all the time
May was drawing to a close, and the flora was bursting with the first bloom of the season. It took over the world like a storm, swallowed up by a yellow dust that swirled up in the wind, and kicked up in the wake of tires or foot steps, and clung persistently to everything it could reach. It made the plant life flush green with the jubilation of new life, and tracked behind people as they escaped indoors; everything in the open air choked by the plague of spring
So much has happened, but so little has changed.
