August 17th. The middle of nowhere. Two days after the birthday of Steven Universe, so that's something, if I want to be a total weeb about it.
I haven't written in so long, longer than I would ever like to admit. Where is the spark that had me churning out more than I could handle? Where's that nonsense that passed for pornography, the wonderful perversion of the 21st century underground, the things that kept me alive?
It didn't keep me alive. Who am I kidding? It's all just frivolous, sort of, in the same way that all art is frivolous. Maybe it means more to someone than it does to someone else. Maybe it touches them in ways that they like to be touched. I can't speak for how art affects others, because I'm not even sure how it affects me. At this point, I won't be the one to come out with a meaning or a method to my madness, and I don't owe one to anyone, dammit.
Who cares. I feel good, sort of, with the exception of intrusive thoughts. Comes with the territory.
I just wish that I could feel the same that I felt then. Maybe I could make more for y'all than...this. This crap. Sigh.
Love y'all.
-A/N/ <3
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7 years, 8 months ago
16 Aug 2016 10:16 CEST
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