#lemony snippets

[lemony-snickers]

tbh just wanna write a smutty masterpiece bestseller so i can spend my time turning daydreams into money, lol.

[lemony-snickers]

sometimes i wish i was one of those writers who, you know, planned things instead of just flying by the seat of my pants all the time.

because i actually have some (an IOTA, mind you, a very very small teenie tiny itsy bitsy bit) of motivation to write. and i would love to dive back in to scent of a camellia, specifically (not that anyone remembers it, i'm sure).

but because i never outlined it or whatever, i only have extremely vague recollections of what it was supposed to do and where i was supposed to take it and so i just... don't... write it... because i don't remember.

:(

[lemony-snickers]

just

like

okay

i so desperately want to convey in words the same sensual tenderness of an artist's rendering of beautiful hands - the flex of tendons, the pinch of flesh beneath their tips - but i CAN'T and it's UNFAIR.

[lemony-snickers]

whyyyyy is it so hard to find the exact romance story i want to read?

[lemony-snickers]

large, strong hands possessively gripping your waist, tugging you closer.

[lemony-snickers]

wonder if i will still be writing smutty kakashi fanfic in my 70s. like, just the most geriatric mother fucker on the planet still typing away about 2D anime dick.

i hope so.

i wanna be tumblr's grandlem one day.

the only thing i'm gonna leave behind when i die is 8 million words of naruto fanfiction on ao3. put that shit on my tombstone.

[lemony-snickers]

ramble.

i wonder if the last year and a half has changed me as a writer. i wonder if a person's art can remain unscathed from the things which scar their heart.

i am reading a passage i haven't touched in a while and i think feel it is the best smut i've ever written because it's fucking tender. i want to write more soft things. more love.

because this world is so bereft of true fucking goodness so why don't i make some up for a while?

there are things i will have to write which might break me in half again; split me into quarters and eighths and sixteenths and so on until my cells are too small to be even a speck on the lens of a microscope.

all the wanting and the lack.

all the grief.

all the wish fullfilment ninja fucking magic that spins an impossible happy ending.

i miss writing. i miss the person i was 531 days ago. that person will never be again, but at least i can write a happy ending for somebody else.

[lemony-snickers]

yell at me to finish this smut thing finally, pls & ty.