Sorry. Can't do it.

seen from Canada
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Sorry. Can't do it.
i didn't think i'd ever have to create a filter for 'puppy' on tumblr, but here we are (>_<)
Hello, uh… Square Bill! Do you, perchance, sell anything that safely allows the user to see into a dimension that is hidden from view? Specifically the third dimension..?? Asking for reasons…
-Basic Billy
NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NO SCRAM AND I AM OUTTA HERE!
The problem with writing so damn much is that I understand story pretty well.
So like. When I write, I do my best to pick up on natural progression. "Okay. These are the story points I'd like to hit. Let's write and see how they all ease into the narrative and what other stops we make as we hit the road."
When the story doesn't naturally progress, it kind of breaks my brain. And that's not to say a naturally progressing story always makes sense as you go! I have no idea where the hell Ted Lasso is going but it's a really smooth ride, and the stops we're making feel organic for the most part, if confusing.
But with Maisel, it feels like it's been thrown into reverse and now we're just blindly hitting rocks and running over compelling characters (Lenny, Sophie, Mei) and just driving away.
And it is like chewing tin foil. It's why I'm not watching. My story brain is like "hold up, we're what now? How is any of this fitting organically with the last four seasons of highways and backroads we've traveled?"
It's not.
So I jumped out of the moving car lol
Reading the news in 2020 like
Nope.
That's enough of that.
I just spoiled myself for the ending of the new Veronica Mars season and, yeah, I won’t be watching it. They just lost me as a fan. Shock value at its worst. Nope.
Me finding out some artist i like is aphobic
oh shit brother time to fucking block
86th of The Colossus, 1330 AE
The festive Divinity’s Reach greeted me as an unfamiliar, yet beautiful, stranger. Had the Commons ever been capable of appearing this charming? I never suspected the potential. Yet under the shimmering blanket of snowfall the old places transform.
The stunted roofs and chimneys of the Busted Flagon, the lush Melandru Park… I was content here, once, for all the troubles, brawls and bad business on my friends’ part… I was content. I held just the right measures of blunt optimism and pride to carve a name for myself, just the right quantity of luck to fall in with the right folk to back me up against all the trouble that merited. The days sped by, all pulled into balance by the familiar weight of the blade hanging down my back. Truly it was not that long a stretch of time, but a defining one still.
Perhaps I changed, just as much as the city, and I return to her as much a stranger as she is to me. Yet here I am... yearning to go forward, I went back.
I discussed a passage to Istan aboard ‘The Spirit’ - a vessel crewed by Norn sailors ambitious enough to be willing to brave Joko dominated waters. It is a risky trail but I crave it... a new, ancient land beckons. More than anything I want to tear myself away from old places and old faces. Wintersday Eve was far too touched with nostalgia, and I refuse to entertain old ghosts any longer.
I go forward.
My fingers struggle writing this, being afflicted by numerous sores and blisters due to this year’s gift-making spree. My Hoelbrak cultured wood carving ability yielded much better results this year, and noting that spurred me to carve more and for more people than I usually did... until lastly I found myself carving two more figurines. One Desert Lop, and one Hydra.
To go forward I thought, I must go back. And back I went - to Alf’s old place.
And that’s how I discovered it wasn’t there…. my last Wintersday’s gift to Kophon, the carved beads bracelet - very much not there.
Alfredon’s gift and letter were, but not Kophon’s… Dwayna… I am going insane.
So I depart to Istan.