It was my Birthday a few weeks ago. I didn't really feel like announcing it at the time, since I was afraid I'd relapse on my depression again.
Separately from that ordeal I stopped having breaks over, I was also dealing with loneliness.
No IRL friends, unless you count family. Pets to, of course. I just... sometimes I'll be looking at my phone, watching something stupid, some entertainment, you know? And I'll have a flash of insight -- I am still alone.
And I'll feel really sad.
I think the reason I never expand beyond three people in any given story is because...Having those one-on-one moments with few characters makes it feel like I'm having an engaging conversation. I'll talk to myself, and answer back. Think of different scenarios, so many things I just practically daydream away, and told by many people face to face, I'm crazy.
So what do I do with myself?
Nothing. Well, pick up sticks ever' now and then, weed-wack the yard, mow...Try not to kill the blue berries this year...
I ah, zapped them with the weed-wacker. The side of the house looked like a smurf gone done scrapped his little caboose on the there.
Oh! Right! My Birthday...
I got a pair of boots. My old shoes needed to be replaced, You could use them like a puppet if you really wanted, flap the fronts around and they got these big gaps as wide as a mouth, you might as well use the tongue in the shoe and call it a face.
And... I guess I'll try to write brighter, happier stories. My last entry had contained rape, and gangrape, that I feel my audience does not come to expect. I have maybe half a dozen or less stories I work on, jump from them time to time. Thinking about finishing those into a sudden stop since...
I don't think people want to read long stories anymore either. Just no time. So, I think I want to focus on shorter, sweeter stories that are easier to digest. Not some daunting 30 page wall of sext.
Let's be honest. What I write is just a long, long wall of sext.
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2 months, 2 weeks ago
10 Apr 2025 10:34 CEST
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