#rhyme structure

[zomb13s]

The Evolution and Impact of Rhyme Writing: From Ancient Times to Modern Street Knowledge in Rap Poetry

A cold winter Passing knowledge gained from the universe’s centerIn this holy land only the worthy can enterCommanding armies for the pleasure of gaining treasureIt’s in G.O.D.’s hand that will relieve the pressure forever Praying to allahPraying to Jesus and Mohamed and praising JahWe’re blessed to share the sacrament togetherPace your self and act more cleverThe politicians are holding the…

[dereks-unrelenting-heart]

The SFTH Rules of Improv

Sam's Rule of Improv: Any scene that can become sexual, will become sexual and most likely problematic (typically via unnecessary moaning sounds)

Tom's Rule of Improv: Avoid getting SFTH cancelled by begrudgingly taking the role of the group's Disappointed Father™ (typically involves unsexualizing and sanitizing Sam's contributions)

Luke's Rule of Improv: Play innocent, then shock your audience AND fellow improvisors by revealing your complete lack of shame and filter when their guard's down

AJ's Rule of Improv: If the plot is clearly going in one direction, take the soonest opportunity to steer that shit off a cliff

And of course the most important SFTH Rule of Improv: If someone makes a mistake, never EVER let it go. It's a plot point now.

[mollysunder]

Caitlyn's Objectives for Zaun are Vague and Terrible.

"Locate Jinx."

Plenty of people have already talked about this one, but there's a clear "and" missing to this statement. Caitlyn isn't going to just find Jinx say mission accomplished and go back to Piltover. She's left her intentions for Jinx ambiguous to her superiors (Ambessa) and subordinates alike, which leaves room for the situation to escalate.

"Dismantle shimmer."

I cannot overstate how bad of an idea it is. It seems simple in excution. Secure the refineries, detain Singed and other chemists that manufacture it, and destroy any existing supplies. But everything else that comes with it will turn the situation even worse.

I'm not even talking about the fact that Caitlyn is suggesting everyone in Zaun addicted to shimmer immediately go cold turkey without warning, preparation, or their consent. It's that fact that she's essentially destroying the only form of healthcare infrastructure that exists in Zaun.

For all the bad shimmer can do, it's still an effective medicine when used right. It's not a coincidence that once Silco took over and introduced shimmer there's suddenly people with visible disabilities and prosthetics on screen existing in Zaun. They exist because shimmer makes it possible. Even 5 out the 6 chembarons, the richest and most powerful people in Zaun, are disabled or use mobility aids. Chembarons like Smeech quite obviously use shimmer (his eyes are pink in every scene including his character sheet) to manage his prosthetics, he's had all four limbs replaced.

How many people live like Silco, with a chronic illness (probably a dangerous infection because Zaun is Piltover's human/industrial wastepit) that needs to be treated daily? How many people are practically dead and buried if the enforcers manage to destroy all remaining shimmer?

"Neutralize any agents still loyal to Silco."

What does that even mean? What does being loyal to Silco mean when he's dead? They're getting rid of all infrastructure related to shimmer production. The only thing that remains of Silco that anyone can be loyal to is the belief he left behind (and maybe Jinx but that's complicated).

Above all else (except Jinx), Silco wanted an independent Zaun. Will That's his whole thing, and shimmer was just the mechanism to make it happen. Will anyone who agrees that Zaun should be independent be considered a Silco loyalist? If so, then Caitlyn's mission isn't just about finding Jinx and getting shimmer off the streets, this is about crushing an independence movement AGAIN.

How will she characterize Silco's loyalists? Is she talking about chembarons that worked with Silco? Former members of his gang? People who worked in Silco's factories and liked the paycheck? Silco was the defacto leader of Zaun, most if not all figures in Zaun with influence were essentially complicit in his agenda.

Is there any real difference between anti-Piltovan sentiment and pro-Zaunite independence at this point?

[edennill]

elured&elurin who died alone in the forest and elros&elrond who had their home destroyed over and over but survived to help build a new tomorrow and elladan&elrohir who were raised in peace and prosperity, and all of them star-twins. "shakes you by the shoulders" meme, do you understand

[hylian-prosecutor]

Sonnets of Euclydia - I.

In all Euclydia were none so dear

As two triangles of the Cipher name:

Scalene and Euclid lived in comfort here

Without the knowledge of their future shame.

An equilateral, a baby boy,

An unassuming child of yellow hue,

Lit up his parents’ lives with all the joy

Of anyone observing something new.

But something had gone wrong, that much was clear—

Poor Billy had a strange deformity:

He’d spend his hours lost in joy and fear,

Distracted by the great enormity

Of millions of stars, both great and small

And nobody but Bill could count them all.

Part II. >

Part III. >

Part IV. >

Part V. >

[raayllum]

Was thinking about 7x02 again because it seems that's the episode hyperfixation of the day, specifically that it's the first time we've seen Soren and Rayla fight since 2x07... and then it hit just how much 7x02 is just a more matured, complicated version of 2x07 in a lot of ways.

Rayla is following her heart, even when the consequences could be severe and there is good reason to be angry at the Xadian opponent who is trapped/chained down. This leads to her fighting a losing battle against Soren and other human soldiers. Callum shows up to magically bail her out, and the two escape together after successfully freeing the 'monster'/murderer. But Ezran takes Claudia's place of being stubborn and perpetuating the cycle: the dragon / Runaan being taken down by an arrow, "how are we going to move it?" "in pieces" / "my family has been broken for too long". And it leads to another split, as when Soren is injured for his hubris Claudia runs to him, versus Callum who takes a stand against his brother, and subsequently leaves.

[dancing-dawn]

The heartless cur, with heart ablaze

a sskk psychoanalitic canonical angst poem by yours truly!

Summary:

A question, rid of doubt, Met a spirit most devout. “Just the two of us?” he pondered, Yet conviction never faltered.

A poem from Knight Akutagawa's POV, a dive through his mind and heart during the events of chapter 119 onward, until the post-credits scene of S5.

Read on ao3, here clicky.

Or if you prefer here:

A knight reborn with purpose clear,

To rid the world of death and fear.

He strikes with newfound resolve,

For the sins of man to be absolved.

Until he hears a panicked voice,

Begging him to make a choice.

To save himself from slaughter

And protect his treasured daughter.

And his hand shall not be reckless,

If he wants to free the helpless.

But his prowess would be bested

By a creature most detested,

A mortal turned a god,

A truly wicked fraud.

In the vile vessel’s grasp,

With a faint and muted gasp,

He falls a pray to beast

Who’d relish in his feast

Of cursed souls, corrupt;

A pure world to construct.

A sudden slash would catch his eye,

The strangest phrase, perhaps a lie.

Till he’s pinned aghast in place

By an almost tender gaze.

Eyes that have entrapped the sunset,

Bearing not an inkling of regret.

Familiar words, a recognition

Of a far forgotten mission.

A sacrifice, his heart ablaze

For companion he couldn’t chase.

A scream tearing through space,

Through time and pain’s embrace.

A heartless cur.

Mind a blur.

In need to be stronger -

Mayhap no longer.

Trust. Sincerity.

Become a Singularity.

Shared affection, 

Mutual protection.

A feeling unnamed,

That couldn’t be tamed.

But now left fractured and torn,

For he just lost half his soul.

. . .

The fight was cruel, frightening, 

Enough to send him spiraling,

Grasping at the memory

Of a long forgotten enemy.

A shadow of the past,

That wasn’t meant to last.

But now a close companion

He wouldn’t dare abandon,

Not until his cursed lungs

Have sung their final verse. 

He swore he would protect him

From the fate forever grim - 

To be a weapon of destruction,

Devoid of human function.

The knight revealed his shield

Amidst the haunting barren field.

Soft-spoken words of reassurance,

To preserve his friend’s endurance.

A question, rid of doubt,

Met a spirit most devout.

“Just the two of us?” he pondered,

Yet conviction never faltered.

“Do we need any more?”

To win this godforsaken war.

They were bonded as a pair

In a world most unfair.

But through love unshaken, trust,

The devil shall be turned to dust.

[whumpster-fire]

The (N+1) Little Pigs

Where N is a comically large number.

From: Fairy Tales To Tell Other People's Children To Get Out Of Being Asked to Babysit In the Future: An Anthology

Once Upon A Time, there were (N+1) little pigs, who lived in a house with their mother. One day, their mother kicked them out to seek their fortunes in the world, because they were unemployed losers who turned their rooms into pigsties.

The First Little Pig saw a farmer selling bales of straw. "Aha!" he thought, "That looks like the perfect material to build a house for the minimum amount of effort!" He told his brothers this. They all looked at him like he was an idiot.

"A straw house is easy to build, but it's also easy to tear down!" said the Third Little Pig. "What if a wolf comes?" He started to show his brother studies about the maximum wind loads of straw houses, but the First Little Pig wasn't listening.

"Wolves are a hoax," said the First Little Pig. He bought the straw anyway, and built a rather ramshackle house.

The Second Little Pig laughed at the first little pig's foolishness, but when he saw a woodcutter selling sticks, he thought: "I want a big house, but I don't want to waste too much time building it. These will be perfect."

The Third Little Pig saw a bricklayer selling bricks, and thought: "These will make the strongest house possible. I'd like to see a wolf break into this!"

Soon, the Big Bad Wolf came along. He saw the houses the pigs had built, and he came up with a plan. He knocked on the door of the First Little Pig's straw house.

"Good Morning," he said to the First Little Pig. "Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior -"

"Go away, I'm playing Minecraft!" shouted the First Little Pig, and slammed the door in the Big Bad Wolf's face. So the Big Bad Wolf thought of a better plan.

"Hi, I'm installing Rooftop Solar, do you have a moment to talk about -"

"Go away."

So the Big Bad Wolf thought of a better plan.

"We've been trying to reach you concerning your car's extended warranty -"

"Die in a fire, Big Bad Bitch."

So the Big Bad Wolf thought of a better plan. He knocked on the door one more time.

"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in!"

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

The Big Bad Wolf peered in the window, and decided the hair on the pig's chinny chin chin wasn't much of a threat. It was kind of unimpressive actually. A neckbeard, even.

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

Then the Big Bad Wolf huffed, and puffed, and blew the straw house to pieces, and that was the end of the First Little Pig.

He moved on to the Second Little Pig's house, and repeated the process, only without the several ineffective scams. He went straight to the threats and demands, which is an admirable quality in a villain.

"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in!"

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

Then the Big Bad Wolf huffed, and puffed, and blew the stick house to splinters, and that was the end of the Second Little Pig.

The Third Little Pig watched his brothers' demise from his brick house, and made a smug FaceBook post about inferior construction methods. When he heard a knock on his door, he said without even waiting for the wolf to speak: "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

"Uhh, this is your neighbor Bob. I just wanted to check in and see if you're okay, I saw on NextDoor there were two houses blown in by a wolf, and my neighbor Dale said both the victims were pigs, so it seems like there's a pattern."

"Oh. Sorry," said the pig. "Don't worry about me, I've got the strongest house in the whole town!" and he patted the brick walls.

Bob the Neighbor left, and the Big Bad Wolf came along.

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

"Aww, come on, man, you didn't even give me a chance to knock!"

"This story's getting too long."

"Fair. Ahem… I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

The Third Little Pig waited smugly in his armchair, waiting for the wolf to tire himself out. But what he didn't realize was that his attic windows had blown in. The Third Little Pig had built his house with a gable style roof for aesthetic reasons, and he had neglected to install hurricane ties as required by building codes in many areas prone to high wind disasters. With wind blowing inside the attic and over the roof, it acted just like a wing! The whole roof lifted off the house and blew away, and without the structural support, even the sturdy brick walls collapsed, crushing the Third Little Pig armchair and all.

The Fourth Little Pig built his house out of stone, with structurally adequate roof design. The wolf huffed and puffed with all his might, but the house just wouldn't budge!

So the Big Bad Wolf waited for the Fourth Little Pig to leave the house. After a few days, this little piggy went to market, when this little piggy should have stayed home. But this little piggy had to buy roast beef, because this little piggy had none. This little piggy saw a familiar shape in the parking lot, and cried WEEE WEEE WEEE WEEE, half of the way home. Not all the way home, because he only got halfway there before the Big Bad Wolf caught him and ate him.

The Fifth Little Pig purchased a 7500 sq ft McMansion in a gated community. But the house soon began to fall apart due to its subpar construction, and the Little Pig lost all his money in the subprime mortage crisis. The bank foreclosed on him, and threw him out in the streets, where the Big Bad Wolf had an easy meal.

The Sixth Little Pig built a sturdy wooden house: not a flimsy stick one, but solid timber framing. The wolf huffed and he puffed, but he could not blow the house in. Instead, he poured gasoline all over the exterior walls of the house and lit a match. The house caught fire, and turned the Sixth Little Pig into fried bacon.

The Seventh Little Pig built another stone house, and a very nice one it was. In fact, it was a castle. But he'd built it on a swamp, so his castle sank into the swamp. So he built another castle. That one sank into the swamp. So he built a third one. That one burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp, but the fourth one stayed up! And that's what the Seventh Little Pig's son inherited: the strongest castle in all of Pigland. However, when Wolfram the Conqueror invaded in 1066 AD, the Seventh Little Pig's castle proved incapable of withstanding the ferocious assault of the Warwolf Trebuchet. The Seventh Little Pig tried to surrender before the monstrous siege engine was even completed, but the Big Bad Wolf just laughed, and said there was no way he was going to all that effort to build such a large trebuchet and not use it. Soon the castle lay in ruins, and the Noble House of the Seventh Little Pig was broken.

The Eighth Little Pig built his house out of reinforced concrete. "I'd like to see you huff and puff this house down!" he boasted. "And I've got enough supplies in here to last for two years!"

But the Big Bad Wolf knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, and the guy who a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy knew a guy who knew was an armadillo who worked in the demolitions industry. The armadillo set up several very large explosive charges all around the fourth pig's house.

"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in!" said the Big Bad Wolf.

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

The armadillo laughed, and said: "Then Fire In the Hole! I'll blow your house in!"

With an almighty BANG! that stone house went away, And what happened to the pig isn't pleasant to say. The locals claim porkchops and cutlets rained down On Roofs, streets and sidewalks for three blocks around And windows were broken all over the town.

A-hem! Enough rhyming, back to the story.

The Ninth Little Pig didn't build a house at all. He just wasn't into it, man. Building houses meant being part of the system! He crashed on other people's couches and smoked weed all day. One day there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, man! Wanna buy some weed?" asked the Big Bad Wolf, who was wearing a clever disguise: he had a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a t-shirt that said "420." The Ninth Little Pig stared at him through bloodshot eyes. He scratched the hairs on his chinny chin chin. "Sure, man. Totally radical." He let the wolf in. The wolf was planning to eat him, but the smell of weed was so overpowering that he immediately became high, and they talked about metaphysical philosophy for three hours. Sadly for the Ninth Little Pig, after that the wolf got the munchies and ate him. Due to the sheer quantity of The Devil's Lettuce the pig had partaken in, the Big Bad Wolf was tripping balls for several weeks.

The Tenth Little Pig decided to move to a faraway land where there were no wolves and build his house there. On his journey he came to a bridge, where a troll was waitin for passerby.

"Ha ha!" said the troll. "You must pay the troll toll! I will eat you, delicious pig!"

"Wait!" cried the Tenth Little Pig. "My big brother is coming, and he has a house made of sticks! Wouldn't you rather eat him instead?"

"What." Said the Troll, and there was a long, awkward silence. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I think this is the wrong fairy tale," said the pig.

"I agree," said the troll, and ate him, so the Big Bad Wolf lost this round.

Later, the Big Bad Wolf came to a train track, where he saw a speeding trolley heading towards a switch. On the track ahead were five little pigs tied to the train tracks, on the other track was a single little pig. By pulling a lever, the wolf could make the trolley switch to the other track, saving the five little pigs but dooming the single pig. The Big Bad Wolf didn't pull the lever and allowed the five little pigs to be run over, because he was a Big Bad Wolf and killing more pigs was a desirable result for him. The Mad Philosophy Professor who had tied the pigs to the tracks and sabotaged the trolley's brakes lost his funding due to the lack of conclusive results, which just goes to show the importance of sound experiment design.

The Seventeenth Little Pig holed up in his house and refused to leave. The wolf waited and waited, but as he was waiting, he saw a little girl in a red hood wandering through the woods with a picnic basket. The Big Bad Wolf decided to try to eat her instead, but that is a story for another time. The Seventeenth Little Pig seemed safe, but little did he know that a deadly swine flu pandemic was spreading throughout the community.

The Eighteenth Little Pig built a very grand and sturdy house of brick and stone, but it had large windows that were easy to break into. One night, a pack of four Big Bad Wolves broke into his house. "What the Devil?" cried the Eighteenth Little Pig as he grabbed his powdered wig and Kentucky Rifle. He huffed, and he puffed, and he blew a golfball sized hole through the first wolf, shooting him dead on the spot. He drew his pistol on the second wolf, but it missed him entirely because it was smoothbore and nailed the neighbor's dog. He had to resort to the cannon at the top of the stairs loaded with grapeshot. The grapeshot shredded two wolves in the blast, and the sound and extra shrapnel set off car alarms. The Eighteenth Little Pig fixed bayonets and charged the last terrified wolf, who bled out waiting for the police to arrive because triangular bayonet wounds are impossible to stitch up. "Ah," said the Eighteenth Little Pig, "Just as the Founding Sounder intended."

The Nineteenth Little Pig went to college to become a Marine Biologist. This had many benefits, including living on a research vessel far away from any Big Bad Wolves. Sharks, on the other hand, were a different matter.

The Twentieth Little Pig didn't build a house: he hid in a cave, where he survived on a diet of 10,000 spiders per day and never left. He survived the Big Bad Wolf, but he is an outlier and should not have been counted.

The End

[mouse-drawings]

If I break his heart

I'll buy another to enjoy

(Halle Abadi - BOYTOY)

God, I wish it was me (gripping a Zasp plushie by his neck)

[fictionadventurer]

Beauty and the Beast for the WIP game?

My only real attempt at writing poetry before this year happened during a stretch when I tried to write a Beauty and the Beast retelling in verse. I got about two-thirds of the way through before it fizzled out and languished forever unfinished.

When it comes to my recent novel-in-verse obsession, the simplest option would be to take another look at this work and try to finish it. There's a lot of terrible poetry in there, but there are some that are somewhat better than I remember. I can't claim to be a judge of what's good poetry, but some of these are readable, so I'll share some of them here.

The first set of semi-readable poems covers the first meetings between Beauty and the Beast. (These are all numbered, and I'm leaving the numbers in place to better differentiate between separate poems. I think the speaker in most of these is fairly clear from context, but just in case, I'll put the speaker's name in the title, too.)

VI. beauty and beast

he is every nightmare i’ve ever forgotten he is thunder and darkness and death he is fear with fangs he is beastly

she is every dream i’ve never dared for she is roses and sunlight and life she is hope with jewels she is beauty

*

VIII. beauty

the chair creaks when he sits

my knees quake when he speaks

the master laughs when i ask

when i will die

my ears doubt when i hear

my mind reels when i realize

the master wonders when i began

to think he’d kill me

IX. beast

the rules are these you are mistress of this castle the servants will obey your every whim the rooms and all within are yours including me

you will dine with me at dusk we will not speak if you want silence you will look at me and try not to scream

i will not harm a hair of your head i will not cause a moment’s worry you will do whatever you wish except leave

X. beauty

his mercy shatters my world makes it bigger and at the same time smaller

how can i live in a monster’s cage

my life will be long and lonely with him my friend and at the same time jailer

how can i look at a monster’s face

the castle teems with wonders that all belong to him and at the same time me

what do i do with a monster’s love

*

The next set of poems I feel like sharing starts with Beauty finding a portrait in the castle, and then leads into her sharing a dance with Beast that makes her kind of freak out over the fact that she might be falling in love.

XXII. beast

today you found a painting in a long-forgotten room covered in cobwebs and shrouded in dust

there was a reason it was lost

the portrait showed a man with a face like the dawn and eyes like the sea you thought he looked kind

he was young and a fool

you may keep it if you wish or lock it back in darkness it matters not to me i used to see him daily

i doubt i’ll see his face again

*

XXIV. beauty (and beast)

if rooms have souls the ballroom is wise a radiant beauty long past her prime

she treasures the days when she lived and was loved she keeps them and counts them like pearls on a string

(she is not the only one, my dear)

long past midnight in moonlight and hush this sleepwalking girl can glimpse former days

a flash of a gown and a whisper of waltz what glorious balls must this room have beheld

(they were marvelous indeed, my friend)

it seems a shame she grows old alone with nothing but darkness and dust held within

i would dance for her return the spark of life if only we had music and i had a partner

(i will gladly dance with you, my love)

XXV. beast

my dear beauty don’t you know i learned dancing long ago

one step closer take my hand with a waltz you’ll understand

let the music guide your feet in a dance that’s slow and sweet

hand in hand and heart to heart it’s not love but it’s a start

XXVI. beauty

he is hulking beastly

i am small delicate

i should be stumbling crushed

but

we marvelously miraculously dance

and it feels like flying

XXVII. beauty (to the portrait)

man on the wall i may be mad but i must give voice to the storm in my heart and you are the only one near

the master puzzles me i know his home as well as my own but i know so little about him

(is he beast or man or nightmare or dream or captor or friend)

i saw his face and thought him a beast

(but he grows roses and reads poems and has never killed or even raised his voice)

i heard his voice and thought him a monster

(but he spared my life gave me his home and all he owned offered his heart and never once has been anything but gentle)

i watched him dance and thought him a man

(with grace like an angel or a prince and i think that maybe he was not always so lonely and that his heart aches for things lost)

what am i to think do say be feel about him now

and why do these questions always come at midnight

*

The final poem is one that I had completely forgotten about, so I was shocked to find it lurking in the latter sections of the document and showing signs of using some decent imagery. By polishing up the last couple of lines, I've got something that's not half bad as a standalone poem.

This one occurs during an extended period when Beauty is still trying to process her feelings toward Beast and figure out if this is really love or if her feelings are being warped by isolation and close proximity.

XXX. beauty

if this is love it is a dark and grasping love a child stumbling in the night crying for a candle flame and cherishing the smallest spark of light

if this is love it is a bleak and desolate love a skeleton tree in a barren desert windbeaten and scrubbed to bone and bursting into bloom at the first drop of rain

if this is love it is a smoke and mirrors love a sleight of hand or trick of light that takes my broken heart and fools me into thinking he can make it whole

[waterloo-to-anywhere]

LOUSY LIFE FOR THE WASHED UP WIFE OF A PERMANENTLY PLASTERED PISSED UP BASTARD

[zomb13s]

Unleashing the Power of Key Style Rap: Where Rhyme Meets Rhythm

Welcome, rap aficionados and aspiring wordsmiths, to a deep dive into the artistry of Key Style rap. At ikziezombies.com, we’re all about exploring the innovative and the unconventional, and Key Style certainly fits the bill. So, let’s embark on a lyrical journey where freestyle meets structure, and creativity knows no bounds. Key Style rap is like a dance of words, where the beat sets the tempo…

[clumsypuppy]

Gripped with ideas but….. the panelling………….

[anglerflsh]

ooo you like poetry because of the feeli- no I like poetry because I count syllables and accents in my head when I read and I love when it is all in a neat structure of sounds : ) and especially when there's a rhyming scheme that's hard to figure out it's like a puzzle for me : ) I don't give a shit for the inherent emotion behind it I just like structures and rules

[ninjas-and-coffee]

Current Ninjago *wip* Projects List

Ninjago Arena: Ninjago but a Mortal Kombat game animation project

NRB: Ninjago but i wrote a bad rap battle or like 3

Darkleys Graduation: I made darkleys more serious and whatnot

Animatics: Dont be Sad -Tate McRae (Morro) Rockstar - CallmeKarizma(Jay) Thot -Tokyo's revenge(Llorumi critical/joke)

Art Projects that will take me 20+ hours to finish feat: Overjay au, Overlord Possesion type study??, Post-Possesion au(art and writing) Ninjago: WhatIf (art+writing). Other long ass art starts

For all the people who didn't ask why i keep disappearing or why i mention a project you've never heard of. There's a lot. And I'm not even including the 17fic backlog. Ufkbfkabfakb.

Feel free to ask about any of these, I just answer asks slowly because of anxiety around disappointing people or just not having an immediate response. Or if they're compliments i just save them for encouragement.

[chicago-geniza]

Trying to explain ADHD like "I got overwhelmed by the prospect of taking out two weeks' worth of trash so I started translating Franz Wright's poem 'Language my country' into Russian"