abuffzucchinisvariousposts

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

time travel regulation organization where it’s not official policy, but it’s common practice for field agents to keep a binder at their desk with the names of their family and friends, their address, their anniversaries, their schedules, their passwords. everything you would need to steal an identity—virtually anyone who’s been a field agent for more than a year has had to steal their own identity at least once. the timeline they all work to protect is concerned with wars and presidents and major motion picture releases. some margin of error is allowed, and it’s not uncommon to find agents walking around dazed, coming back from a mission to find their best friend unexisted and a wedding ring on their hand that matches the ring of a stranger. some give up on all relationships, not even letting themselves love their siblings. some wear lockets on their missions, so that if the photo on their desk has shifted in its frame on their return, at least they have something left of the timeline that now never was. agent zhang, who works hebei-shandong-jiangsu AD 1850-2000, has eighteen different family portraits. in some some agent zhang has a wife, in some a husband, in some neither. three portraits have one child, one has four, one has seven, most have none. some are in courtyard houses. some are by white picket fences. many have parents, but the newest one has none. you ask agent zhang if it wouldn’t be easier just to let the alternate timelines go. agent zhang points at a child four portraits back, a little girl with a missing front tooth and a goldfish bowl clutched in her arms. “i never learned what that goldfish was called. i took her out for ice cream as soon as i knew she existed, and i didn’t even get to see her come home from school the next day.”

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

Checkup

White walls and scary posters Bus trips like roller coasters Web of knots in your stomach A spider rides along in your pocket

Sterile hallways, second floor Waiting rooms and locked doors You know the spider is there, it's just like last time But that changes nothing, it never has

Legs kicking idly on the exam table, you ignore each other You know exactly what to say, but it's too late now, because so does the spider There is nothing you can do but wait for it all to be over

At that moment, she walks in, the nurse She asks you what's wrong You try to speak to the nurse, a spider looks at you You try to speak to the nurse, but your throat is tied You try to speak to the nurse, the air around you fights back You fall on deaf ears. The spider is fluent and emotionless They make conversation as if you're not in the room

You keep trying. Whimpers fight through the webs The nurse is as trapped as you are, she continues talking You try to weave through the traps but stumble and sob You try to cry to the nurse, a spider smiles at you. The venom is working You try to scream to the nurse, it's not always like this. No sound comes out You try to plead with the spider, it was never listening You break down in front of everyone. You're paralyzed. A spider continues talking. The nurse listens It's time to go, you lost yourself just like last time

That wasn't so hard now, was it?

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

"Why some days of the week feel like others"

Some days of the week feel like others because they are others. If there’s a holiday on monday, tuesday is gonna be a monday, and that feels horrible, but then thursday is gonna be a wednesday or, if you think about it too much then you get confused and get to the conclusion that if yesterday was not the day you mistook it for, then maybe today is actually tomorrow. Friday is only tomorrow, but tomorrow is gonna feel like a thursday right up until you get home and realize you can stay up late and then it’s a friday all over again.

Some days of the week feel like others because when you small talk with your friends just to fill the void of the conversation you say that the weather is kinda weird today and you wonder if it’s gonna rain, and the last time it was like this was a month ago because it barely rains in this god forsaken city and you remember it was a tuesday because that’s the only day your physics class ends at 6pm and now it’s happening all over again except it's neither thursday nor did you have physics today.

Some days of the week feel like others because you live alone and get really lonely on the weekends, so you’d wish that it was the middle of the week and you’re watching classes and wishing it was the weekend so you could play some games with your friends, but it is indeed the weekend and your friends are all busy and you just feel like a slump and friday night feels like sunday and sunday feels like saturday and then and then and then time doesn’t pass so you spend 12 hours a day sleeping and do nothing all day.

Some days of the week feel like others because you come back to your family when you’re on vacation and the days all mesh onto each other and when you least expect it you realize you’re suffering like it’s a busy monday but it’s actually wednesday and you are alone alone alone and also unbearably accompanied by those that love you but whom you can’t stand

Some days of the week feel like others because you feel like an other. Just as monday is expecting friday and sunday is aborting the week and bleeding all over the bed and dying a gross and gruesome death, you are pregnant with expectation that one day you’re gonna be able to be yourself. Just like the rain can’t help but make it feel like it’s 6pm on a tuesday after your physics class, and a holiday on monday makes thursday feel like a day beyond the times, you can’t help but feel like are everything except a boy or a man, but your manhood feels like a girlhood and your girlhood feels like something else that will never quite fit in. But maybe that’s ok and next week the days will feel normal again

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

Untitled #2

If the desired person of mine arrives,

(Or should I say when?)

Don’t know if more from there than from here

Maybe I’ll be happy! I really hope I’ll be

Maybe I’ll say “Hello, my dehidrated!

My skinny love that won’t last a month

My starving, desperate, humiliated,

Sorry the words seem to play hide and seek with me today

(Or maybe everyday? These days it has been hard to tell)

Back again,

My starving, desperate, humiliated,

Love? Friend?

Will there ever be a difference?

Maybe I was all wrong from the start”

You see, it has become increasingly obvious that I was born molten

Melting gender and anxiety and a predisposition to saying sorry too much and something else that I don’t quite understand yet but that spews toxic fumes from my broken down skin, polluting the sky around me and making me not see the sun

I am warming the globe

Lighting the society fuse

But I have forsaken my own existence

For the opportunity to maybe,

Just maybe

Kiss again

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

Untitled #4

Yes, I concede that most times you go through hell and then you get to heaven.

But what if not?

Sometimes you go through hell and you never get to heaven.

Sometimes, most times, all the time, we can’t stay in the moment forever.

Sometimes you go through hell and you never get to heaven.

Sometimes forever truly is forever. Your forever.

Sometimes you go through hell and you never get to heaven.

Sometimes forever means a lifetime of agony.

Sometimes forever means that you go through hell and you’ll never go through heaven.

Sometimes forever is just that. Forever.

I get it now, truly

Hahahaha. I do. I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do  I do   I do   I do   I do       I do         I do               I do                   I do                                                                                                                                                                                                                   I                                                                                              

                                                                                      do 

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

Untitled #3

Am I a monster or is this what it means to be me? Is it both? I fear I have lost myself in the tides of my self illusion. Self grandeur or self deprecation? Oh god it’s both, I am both. I am death. I am infected. I am infected. I am infected. I am and have been trapped in this eternal cycle of losing myself to what I am. Sorry, I mean, to what I think I am. These days it feels like I’m saying sorry too much, sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t be mad at me. Please. I’ll swallow myself to please you. A chronic exaggerator, masterful lier, expert pleaser, I’m a pitiful human existence. It’s always I guess and I guesses and I think and likes with me. I know I’m annoying. I get sentences and words stuck and my mind stuck too often. Sorry that’s a lie. (I am a walking plague). They don’t get stuck, they dominate me, drown me, and then I repeat. And repeat. And repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat repeat repeat repeat  repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat. FUCKKKKK GET ME OUT OF THIS HELL OF MINE THAT IS NEITHER MINE NOR OTHERS / / / / /The "Untitled #x" series is something very dear to me, and also something that I hold with contempt. They're poems written in one short session of intense, often fleeting, emotion. And often after I've written them I sit there with no resolution to this *thing* I've just created that was the cause of so much emotion

They're also poems I'm reluctant to reread and change after the emotion has passed, because I have the urge to hug my past self and modify the poem to give it a more gentle ending, I'm feeling that right now. But the emotion stood strong for a moment there, and while I did write a gentle ending at the time I did choose to not include it and I shall stand by that decision. In other poems I'd pay no mind to modifying them after they're done, but not here, not with this series.

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

my mom was trying to chew through some really tough steak and she turned to me and said “just call me The Gnawer.” she would do numbers here

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

this was all delightful

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

krita paintings drawn with my mouse, first two ~20 mins and the third was like 5 minutes

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

imagine if you will, a fairly dry survival crafting game in which you live in a bunker and must periodically venture out to scavenge food, set up turrets for attacking monsters, etc

now, your computer inside the bunker has a game-inside-a-game on it which is a charming farming sim of undeniably greater quality and scope than the survival game you're playing. therefore, the object of the game becomes to keep your bunker secure so you can play the farming game more.

now, once you achieve the highest rating in the farming game, a secret shop inside it unlocks, and one of the novelty items you can purchase is a game console, giving you access to games-inside-a-game-inside-a-game. most of the games for it are typical mobile shovelware, but one of them is a highly polished, extremely brutal precision platformer with amazing level design and production values exceeding that of the survival game and farming sim combined.

it is only at this point that the purpose of this entire contrivance becomes clear: to create the most deranged speedrun community the world has ever seen.

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

This took so long LMAO okok here we go

a - Atlas (Battles)

b - Bernadette (IAMX)

u - unknown (Oliver Buckland)

f - Fear and Delight (The Correspondents)

f - Front Street (Will Wood and the Tapeworms)

z - Zombies on Your Lawn (Laura Shigihara) 😭 surprise! z url

u - Um, It's Kind of a Lot (Will Wood)

c - Creator (Lena Raine)

c - Cold Weather (glass beach)

h - Heavy News (Bear Ghost)

i - I Only Have Eyes For You (Tashaki Miyaki)

n - neon glow (glass beach)

i - I Did And I Don't And I Do (Cosmo Sheldrake)

s - Sundial (Lemon Demon)

v - Vision One (Röyksopp)

a - AWTA (System of a Down)

r - Run Outs (Alfa Mist)

i - Isle Unto Thyself (Miracle Musical)

o - orchids (glass beach)

u - Urban Solitude (Aklast)

s - Skydiver (Meganeko)

p - Peephole (System of a Down)

o - Our Story (Stomach Book)

s - Subject Name Here (Kelly Bailey)

t - The Mind Electric (Miracle Musical)

s - Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, N.Y. (Bones) (Will Wood and the Tapeworms)

Thanks @alwayskote for the tag!

MUSIC GAME! one song for each letter in your url

U - Unforgiving - Alien Weaponry

L - Losing My Religion - R.E.M

C - Closer - Nine Inch Nails

H - Hunter's Moon - Ghost

A - Alpha Dog - Fall Out Boy

B - Butchered Tongue - Hozier

H - Hungry Like The Wolf - Duran Duran

A - Atlantic - Sleep Token

N - Nemo - Nightwish

G - Go With The Flow - QOTSA

O - Old Flames - Coheed & Cambria

R - Right Here In My Arms - HIM

M - Mr Brightside - The Killers

NPTs!

@galacticgraffiti @ahtokasano @writingbylee @imabeautifulbutterfly @certified-anakinfucker

And anyone else who wants to play! I meant to put that part in the original, but yes consider this your tag ❤️

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

i_have_auditory_processing_issues.jpeg

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

when i was a child i asked my grandad (who has a thick yorkshire accent) why he sometimes misses letters out of words and words out of sentences and he told me its because they had to ration letters during the war

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

ill never get tired of seeing this post

bad

[abuffzucchinisvariousposts]

steam should let you click a "gift-wrap present" button when you gift a game so the recipient has to physically click and pull the wrapping paper away and you can pick between multiple papers and you have the option to triple-wrap it and make it extra annoying