When I was a kid, the world was full of wonder. Now the world is still full of wonder, but it's very expensive, & the capitalists & conservatives are actively trying to kill the wonder, & between my health, social anxiety & inability to justify spending on travel, I just order things online now & then to give myself something to look forward to. You know how it is.
desire to save weed for the weekends lost out to the idea that maybe just resigning myself to the sobbing anxiety attack I'm already forseeing when I go to bed for, essentially, no meaningful reason is dumb actually
hello beloved writing mutuals, followers, and randos ive come to you all with a very important question and that is how. the fuck. do you write fluff without it twisting into horror. most fluff is supposed to have almost no existential dread in it right how do i take out the existential dread
This is a full endorsement for any of you who want to blaze our posts and make us tumblr famous. XP
We are not going anywhere, even as Bushiroad moves on. A lot will have to happen before this blog gets deleted.
Also this is a reminder to download & archive media you like because everything on the internet can die, nothing is forever, and the only reason people say nothing on the internet can be perma delete is because people keep downloading and reuploading it.
Keep CFV alive, in your hearts and on your harddrives
The void may be a cell with bedrock bars, but you cannot stop me from speaking to its prisoner. You're too delightful to not converse with!
The Void is a cell whose lack of bars is stifling enough to choke breath. You stand within it. You can feel the lack of bars not brushing your arms, not close enough so that you cannot sit or lie down, and you are frozen in place barely blinking for hours. The idea of moving, of accidentally touching the sucking, soundless lack of bonds is terrifying. You feel that if you did move, you would never stop. With nothing to hold you in place, you would simply spin off into the endless eternity of a nothingness so complete that even darkness cannot survive. Freedom is a hair's breadth away. Freedom is right next to you. Freedom is right here, with you, trapped with you, winding tight around your neck and choking you in its own desperate effort to avoid contact with that which isn't and never will be. You are fully, agonizingly saturated with freedom. You have never been less able to use it.
You stand, still as death. You stare out. But no, you stare in - as much as you can stare in to a space that is not from a not-space that eternally is. It is the prisoner who stares out. Nothing but twin blue spots stabbing glowing beacon eyes through the dark, light and shadows both to be swallowed by the void beyond. You barely dare breathe. The prisoner does not.
Slowly, shakingly, a pale angular hand raises and stretches out through the pulverizing lack of bars towards you. Finger by ghostly finger, the hand unfolds.
Inside it is an incredibly tiny blue frog. Every problem is simultaneously solved and will remain so forever. You have named the frog Grebg. Thank you very much for visiting. :)
I was messing around on InferKit (a website to make ai generated stories and stuff) and hot DAMN why have I been writing fanfiction when I could’ve been doing this the whole time? All I contributed was Lestat’s name and they gave me top tier angst