#wyrmtext

[creekwyrm]

how to tell mutual they intrigue me greatly and i would be honoured to be allowed to grow a friendship where i may study them up close without saying any of that

[creekwyrm]

i need to get locked in a timeloop so i can read every wikipedia article and their cited sources and further reading articles ever

[creekwyrm]

eridian brains being hardwired for expansive memorykeeping is really interesting actually. says a lot about the kind of behaviours they thought most vital before they started civilizations but it also contrasts the things the human brain is best at really well. we're wet squishy prediction machines, built for recognising patterns. we like music because it's patterns. even if youve never listened to a song before you can pick up the bpm with a clip a few seconds long. patterns and repetition are familiar and comfortable. we have to sit there and calculate the answer to a math equation an eridian answers instantly because they've memorised the answer already from figuring it out once before years ago. they memorise all the answers and surpass us by leaps and bounds by that front. 107x483 might as well be the two-times tables. stuff you just Know because it's been really ingrained in there. but what about their pattern recognition. if you memorise all the answers to a test you never actually learn the formulas and ideas it's trying to teach you because you never do any of the thinking. you never learn to draw a line between two concepts because theres nothing in the database that has already said theyre connected. is ryland grace simultaneously the dumbest and smartest organism on erid because of his "what if __?"s this is really intriguing me

[creekwyrm]

ANNO. ANNO WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING

[creekwyrm]

being immortal and an artist would be so horrible actually. paintbrushes that didnt fail you for decade after decade begin to break down and the bristles come loose but you cant let it go until its literally unusable because it's the only brush that makes you paint like 'you' in whatever esoteric way that is that you cant describe. but the wood and fibre continues to rot in your hand. chisels and blades wear away to nothing from centuries of carving and sharpening but you cant wield any other like you could that one, feel clumsy and novice with the replacement in your hands after so many years of muscle memory for a tool that doesnt behave like this wretched modern counterpart. the recipe for your favourite clay becomes lost to time and try as you might anything else you try never wields as well, shapes as well, glazes as well, and your floors are painted in frustration and cast-aside failures. of pigments made with plants that have long since been extinct, material deposits that simply dry up, the innately mortal nature of anything designed to be used, of the canvases and wood and stone and ceramic of your centuries of work, your masterpieces, succumbing to time just as anything else is bound to. of those stupid fucking treasure hunters taking your paintings from the crumbling, ancient place you call home while you're not around and displaying them in museums on another god damn continent and having to fight the government for literal decades throwing gold deposits to the sea in travel and legal fees before you can get your hands back on them

[creekwyrm]

hi im out of the loop. why are people using jobless/unemployed as a deepcut insult again

[creekwyrm]

theres a new trait called 'blind' that just makes them bump into other followers sometimes and leshy and hagar both have it and its going to make me ugly cry. it isnt even on the wiki

[creekwyrm]

being autistic is so fun because The Characters but less fun when you make ocs and The Characters are your characters. no writing for me to read unless i want to cringe at google docs from 2022 or kick myself into making newer google docs no art for me to eat because im the one who made it two years ago no memes no discussions no content whatsoever

im just going insane alone in a room scribbling in a notebook like a madman. you look over my shoulder and its just drawings of the same guy you dont recognise over and over. i stare at you before bursting into violent sobs, recover after 20 minutes of incoherent babbling, and stand to make dinner. without providing the least bit of context. you ask and i just put on Sir Chloe's album I Am The Dog and keep cooking