masseuseyoureggsoup

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These fighter jets are loud as aw; and despite being told that they become background noise, i simply cannot understand how you live with them.

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imo there is a list of liquids whose consistency does not match its taste; and im fairly sure that it is 85% of the reason why i hate milk

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I would love to shop local, but sadly, i am also a broke college student with access to Amazon Prime 😔

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I really have to appreciate yogurt for ruining 100% of my appetite 100% of the time after one bite.

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She is so small, she is so tired; and i had to crop out my sister naked Flynn Rider.

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Three unmedicated ADHD twenty year olds attempt to start a horders cleaning service-

It goes surprisingly well

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Lili on a table

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Trees swayed and birds flew away in shock as a large body, resembling a red wood tree both in height and in width, dragged his feet through the forest. He was large, ugly with moss and vines falling off him, and he was the last of his kind. He was alone though he didn't feel it, for he had great hearing that could hear the elated buzzing of a bee miles away. He was blind. He had no eyes, but he had little root hairs that grew from his feet that brushed ground allowing him to feel what ever he would like, even as far as that little bee. Through those roots he could see.

This story i wrote three years ago for a badge morphed into a character named It, and his best friend, a tiny little bee named Alleghanie. Together, these two join the cast of character in a world i created when i was 13 (probably, im a bit fuzzy with timelines). I have drawn It and Alleghanie but i will have to hunt down the photo and/or the picture of them.

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An old story i wrote for a creative writing badge.

As the dust settled the earth was still and silent. Colossal towers laid flat of prideful streets. Wreckage and ruin stretched far past was any man's eye could see.

He won.

"No" gasping, hastily searching, rummaging through the devastation. Hours pilling up, and yet are villian saw no sign of Him, his bane, his nemesis, his hero. And then, amongst the powdered concrete, crystal glass and tan dust laid muddied red. A burgundy unnatural to the once grand city around them,it was Him. "No" stumbling, it couldn't be true, he was okay he couldn't no be okay, "No! nononono, you were supposed to stop me!" Cradling, rocking, crying. "You were supposed to save the day! You had everything, everything you needed to stop me! Why," screaming, gasping, sobbing, choking, and then murmuring, " why... why and I still here?...." praying screaming at the heavens above "what went wrong?!?" Trembling, the burgundy smearing, but no longer seeping, trembling and whimpering "please," howling, wailing "Please, please wake up, I cant.. I CAN'T Do this alone," breaking "I need you..

."

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As you set to rest for the night you take in you surundings; the barely there sand hills stretching for miles, the sky empty of clouds and although you have little knowlege of constalation, the pattern in the sky feels foreign. Not even the two moons are there to greet you. Its Silent and still. There's no wind here, leaving the air a stagnant cold, and there are no sounds of creatures. Its so starkly different from your home land, where the nights are alive with light and sound. The endless droning of the Chatter Bugs mixed with the whistle of the wind flowing off the sea and through the treacherous cliffs. The Same cliffs that, while deadly, created the safe valleys that you've known for so long valley's that felt like the earth is self was trying to comfort you. Here though, in this shabby camp you were ill prepared to set, that is all gone. The earth, the chatter Bugs and the moons have left you.

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Realizing that i have a large number of labs due T minus now, and ive done none of them.

College is fun

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I am experiencing nonstop dnd brain rot and its a problem. Also i tried to draw a mouse and i dont know how i feel about it

Also happy easter

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I dont think coffee cake is supposed to look like this

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Homesick

Dearest Sara,

I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you, It's been so long since I've seen you, and I'm sad to say I've grown quite home sick.

Conor has been trying to make our new life out here in Colorado more than just work. It's so different from living in New York, we are the only people out here, you could pick a direction and walk for weeks and you'd never find a soul. Conor's latest attempt to keep me entertained has consistes of sharing some fascinating stories about his home and how he arrived in New York. He left Norway because of the rampant famine, widespread depression, and the lack of opportunities. He talks of the journey overseas and the conditions on the ship; the way he describes the sun setting over the water seems magical. It almost makes me want to hop on a ship myself. However, some of Conor's stories on how the ship he came over in was overcrowded, and the passengers had to endure terrible weather conditions, rough waves, and sea-sickness, deter me from fully committing to my fantasy of travel. As Well as how queasy I got on the wagon, and I can't imagine what it must have been like to be on a ship in such conditions. Conor also talked about the cramped living quarters they were forced to stay in throughout the trip. The room he was assigned was so small that it was only as tall and as wide as the height of a man. Despite that, six men were forced to stay in that room for the entire journey. It's tough to imagine how difficult that must have been. The journey must have been a harrowing experience especially since he was all alone. Its these harrowing stories of connor's that make me feel guilty for demanding such entertainment from him, but very glad I met him when I did. To be all alone in a new country. Oh, please do write me back soon, I do miss hearing the tales you can tell.

Your dearest sister, Jane Alsop

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I personally love having autoimmune issues that act up with stress, its helping me a lot, actually

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Jane Alsop

Dear Sara,

As you might remember, dear sister, I was working as a seamstress when I lived in New York City. Well, one day, a foreigner came in, having ripped one of his few pairs of trousers coming on to the port; well he turned out to be Conor Alsop. Despite our differences and his occasional funny way of speaking, I quickly fell deeply in love and just as quickly married him. Conor came to America eager to start a new life and likely too easily convinced me to move out west to become a farmer and missionary, spreading the word of God to the people there.

The journey to Colorado was difficult. I found it incredibly challenging due to the harsh weather conditions and the difficulties we faced in keeping our belongings on the wagon. Despite these obstacles, we persevered, and when we finally arrived, we were sadly met with even more challenges. We had to live in a sod house, which was damp and dark, and often I struggled to keep bugs and lice from our chambers. On top of that, we struggled to grow crops in Colorado's dry, unforgiving weather.

However, Conor and I were determined to make the best of our new home. We worked tirelessly to adapt to our surroundings and eventually figured out the most effective way to farm. We started a family with three beautiful children and continued to work the land despite our constant challenges.

Unfortunately, with the increasing number of people moving to Colorado with the same dream of homesteading and the growth of commercial farms, Conor and my dream became unaffordable. We were forced to sell our beloved little Homestead and move into the nearby growing city of Denver, Colorado.

Once we moved to Denver, Conor and I worked to help start a church called Middle Grove, and it's a lovely little place if I do say myself. Conor took a job working at a steel mill only because he refused to work for those "robber barons" who owned the railroads, and he often raved about how they forced us back into urban living. I've taken a job as a seamstress once again, and I can't say I missed it too much. It's strange living in a proper city again, though, with modern advances, it is much different than when I was living in New York. There are things I miss from my Homestead, though: the clean water and fresh air, how quiet it was, just the noise of our animals and the wind most days. I had forgotten how dirty and loud living in a city was. I had also forgotten how awful it is to see so many around me struggle; I'm glad that Middle Grove recently joined in an effort called the settlement house movement and has helped build daycares and libraries. I'm not ashamed to say I have sent my youngest daughter, Darlene, to one of the daycares a few times myself. I wonder, Sara, are there efforts going on where you live as well? I would love to hear about your family and how teaching at that little schoolhouse is going with all the advancements in education going around. It is getting late, and I must get supper on. I do hope you are well and that God is with you.

Love, Jane Alsop