#regardless of all this rambling; thank you for all the kind messages. ill try and reply soon!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Get Souped!

[psychopomp-recital]

hi I just wanted to ask: what drew you to death magic specifically? and, if your comfortable, how do you deal with grief (both yours and others) by being a death witch? (plz don't feel obligated to answer if it's too invasive /gen)

Oh not too invasive at all! Thank you for being so polite, this response is very long I’m sorry you asked a rather deep question 🩵 CONTENT WARNING IN TAGS

What drew me onto this path?

TLDR; I have always been surrounded death and it has been an ever present part of my life. I hated the idea that when someone died they were gone forever that’s it. Because regardless if you believe in spirits, I hope we can all agree that we’re all collections of the ancestors who make up our bodies & the ancestors who make up our personalities, we are who we are because of those passed on. And I can all but hope that someday someone will remember me and my stories the same way I remember these folks.

I want to be a good ancestor someday.

THE LONG ANSWER

I was raised in the Southern United States. The culture of this area is that surrounded in death. Everywhere you go there is haunted places and cemeteries. There’s also a strong sense of family there, this feeling that everyone is woven and interconnected.

I was raised Mormon and by a folk magical family who taught me the importance of ancestor work. I understood that these folks are part of me, by blood or otherwise they have made me who I am.

I was raised holding hands with my ancestors chronic illness. I looked it in the face everyday. Haunted by the idea that someday my body would rot away the same way I saw theirs rot, reminded everyday that illness could rip my mother from me without warning.

I eventually realized I could continue to ignore death, pray I have time on this earth to do what I want to do and run from it. Or I could embrace its role in my life and welcome it like an old friend.

I found comfort in the idea that I could help those who have passed on. The families who never got to say goodbye now had an opportunity to at least send the message. I could do my part to calm the fear these folks feel when they slip further into deaths grasp. I found a purpose for the pain I was experiencing.

If I could learn all I can while I’m alive, perhaps when I die I’ll be able to leave behind my knowledge and someone can keep this practice going. In that way, they keep me alive too.

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name.

How do I handle the grief of others and the personal grief I experience?

I think I actually made a post on this! I’ll link it below!

But honestly it just comes down to boundaries, and being kind to yourself. It’s okay to cry and be upset and miss those lost to us. It’s okay to mourn for the dead you work with. YOU ARE STILL HUMAN. Don’t loose sight of that.

Also if you check out #MyPsychopompJournal you’ll see some entries on grief and my raw experiences with it. The one below in particular is a pretty good example;

Let me know if you are interested in a more in depth post about how I handle grief personally because I don’t want to ramble more than I already have!

ASK MY ANYTHING ASKS ARE OPEN!

[1heartsickfics]

Literally anything with peter vomiting and Tony looking after him please! (Irondad) thought you could just see where you wanted to go with this one ☺️

ENDGAME SPOILERS

TW: depictions of illness and vomiting

So this is an AU I guess, set after Endgame except Tony didn’t die.

Peter had felt kind of, off, since he’d woken up that morning. It started as just feeling tired and sluggish, but had developed into a headache by the time he got through his first period. By lunch time, he felt pretty bad. 

“You okay?” Ned asked, nudging him out of his thoughts.

“What?” Peter asked, wincing at how loud it was in the cafeteria.

“I asked if you were okay? You look like shit,” Ned told him.

“Wow thanks man,” he scoffed, trying to smile like he was making a joke. It didn’t work. “Okay you’re right I feel like shit,” he said when Ned just gave him a look.

“I knew it!” Ned said excitedly.

“Ugh dude,” Peter groaned, dropping his head down into his hands.

“Sorry,” Ned whispered. “You should go to the office so you can go home,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Peter sighed, standing up from the table. 

“Feel better dude,” Ned called as he walked away, dumping his lunch in the trash on his way to the office. 

“Hi sweetie, what do you need?” the secretary asked when he approached the office.

“I’m not really feeling very good, I was wondering if you could call my aunt to come get me?” he asked.

“Of course! Why don’t you go sit over there and I’ll give her a ring,” she said, her chirpy voice making Peter’s head pound and his stomach turn. He gave a curt nod, sitting in one of the chairs next to the office. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He was so tired.

“Peter?” a voice said softly, a hand on his shoulder. He forced his eyes open. “It went to voicemail. Is there anyone else I could call?” the secretary asked.

“Uh, well, I-” he stammered. He didn’t really have anyone else. Well, Mr. Stark, he supposed, but he didn’t want to call him. That would be embarrassing. Plus he was probably busy. 

“I have a Tony Stark down as your emergency contact. Should I call him?” she asked when he didn’t respond. He decided he didn’t care after all, he just wanted to get out of here and lay down somewhere. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, suddenly fighting queasiness. 

“Oh. Yeah, okay,” he answered. 

He closed his eyes again, swallowing hard to keep his stomach in place. Hopefully he could hold on long enough for Tony to come get him and take him back to his and May’s apartment.

“Mr. Stark is on his way to come get you sweetie, hang in there,” the lady told him a few moments later. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, afraid of what might happen if he spoke too loudly. 

He must have drifted off, cause he woke up to a hand grabbing his shoulder, shaking gently. When he opened his eyes Tony was crouched in front of him, looking worried. 

“Hey kid,” he said.

“Hey Mr. Stark,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again when the room started spinning.

“You’re really not feeling good huh?” Tony asked, ruffling Peter’s hair. 

“Mmm,” he groaned, shaking his head.

“Alright, well lets get you out of here,” Tony said, grabbing Peter’s arm. “Come on, up you go,” Tony helped him to his feet. 

“Dizzy,” he grunted, stumbling against Tony’s side as he tried to walk.

“Okay, you’re alright, I’ve got you kid. We’ll go slow,” he assured him, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders to hold him steady.

It took a few minutes, but Tony got Peter out to the parking lot and settled into the passenger seat of his car, seat belt on. 

“So what’s going on Pete?” Tony asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Felt weird this morning. Head started to hurt. Then I felt really bad,” he shrugged.

“Okay, well what feels bad right now?” he asked. 

“Um, well, I’m pretty dizzy and my head hurts a lot and I also am really cold which is weird cause I’m sweating and actually my stomach’s pretty upset,” he rambled.

“Oh wow, sounds like you’ve got the flu,” Tony said.

“I didn’t think I could even get the flu,” Peter groaned, leaning against the car window.

“I didn’t either,” Tony said. “Hey you said your stomach wasn’t feeling good? Tell me if you’re feeling sick okay so I can stop,” he added.

“M’okay,” Peter assured him, although Tony didn’t miss how he moved a hand up to rest on his stomach under the shirt he was wearing. He just hoped the kid could wait until they got back to the tower.

“Okay, good,” he said, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

“Alright kid, we’re here,” he announced a moment later. 

“Wha-? Mr. Stark I thought you were taking me home,” Peter said, realizing they were at Stark tower.

“Home? Your aunt’s at work Pete, I wasn’t gonna leave you by yourself,” Tony said as he got out of the car. A moment later Peter’s door opened and there was Tony, grabbing Peter by the shoulders and maneuvering him out of the car as well. He’d never seen Tony like this before. So... nice. Maybe nice wasn’t the right word. Caring? Regardless, it was odd. 

“Right,” he muttered, swaying against Tony’s side again, the world starting to spin rapidly before his eyes. 

“Woah easy kid. Nice and steady,” he said, slowing their pace. That is until Peter stopped moving altogether. 

“Uh, Tony, I- um,” Peter swallowed convulsively, his stomach jumping up into his throat. “My stomach’s not doing so good,” he said quickly, hunching forwards.

“Okay, that’s alright, just let it happen,” Tony said, keeping his arm wrapped around Peter.

That was all the permission Peter needed to finally let his stomach get rid of what little he’d eaten today.

“Hrrlllllllgggggg,” he heaved up a mouthful of cereal from this morning, finishing with a sick sounding belch. His stomach did not feel settled at all, in fact it was still pretty upset, although he didn’t feel as nauseous anymore.

“Alright kid? Ready to move inside?” Tony asked once Peter stopped dry heaving.

He nodded, slowly straightening up, his face pale. Tony frowned to himself as they started moving towards the building again. The kid looked rough. He was obviously really not feeling well. 

After an agonizingly long walk, they made it into the tower. The elevator ride up to Peter’s room didn’t to his stomach any favors, but he managed to keep from throwing up again. Tony helped him get settled in bed, bringing a trash can and a few towels over to sit next to him. 

“Here Pete,” he said, handing him two small pills to take and a cup of water with a straw in it. “This should help with your fever and maybe settle your stomach,” he explained. 

Peter swallowed them obediently, wincing as the cool water sloshed in his upset stomach. Tony gave him a sad, knowing smile. 

“Try to get some rest kiddo and maybe if you’re feeling up to it a little later I can get some crackers or toast for you to snack on. I’ll leave a message for May and let her know that you’re here. Ring me if you need anything okay?” Tony instructed.

“Mmhmm, thanks Mr. Stark,” he mumbled, nuzzling into the warm blankets, eyes already closed.

[secondpubertyscene]

6.9.19 - Brain Dump

The world is a weird and funky place. My home is not an exception to that reality. Now mind you this, living with my father is perhaps one of the best things that could have ever happened to me. I’ve got my own space, a relative amount of privacy, I get home-cooked meals every night, there is air conditioning, heat, a yard and porch, a basement with a pool table, a living room with a nice TV, and free laundry just below me. I have everything that anyone could ask for in a home and for those things, I am sincerely thankful. I feel like I have to keep prefacing all that I say with some form of gratitude, as to not appear ungrateful for the things that I do have, privileges that I do possess. This is about to become a tangent but I think it is a good idea for me to get into it. Recently, I have been looking in the mirror and recognizing just what an ungrateful little twit I’ve been. I mean, when you look at my life compositely, there really isn’t much for me to complain about.

I have two parents. Sure, one of them is mildly abusive and an addict and the other can sometimes be a bit…emotionally detached, but they’re parents nonetheless and ones that genuinely do love me, even if they have a funny way of showing it. My mother and I will probably never have a normal relationship because from my existence into this world, it was strained. It began that way and odds are, regardless of how hard we try, it will probably end that way. Not because it is impossible for people to change, but because it is highly unlikely. Her abusive behavior is almost completely gone, but her manipulative behavior does still exist and I am constantly wary of it. I think she fails to recognize how much she fucked me up the first couple years I started living with her and now that things are better, she seems to think that things are all fine and dandy. For example, I mentioned in a rant that I’ve been acting like an adult since I was about 15. She jumped in the conversation and stated, “Well, you chose that. You didn’t tell anyone what you were doing, so yeah, you had to go through it alone.”

That took me back. I mean, sure, that argument can be used but does she not recognize the issues with that argument? It means that I was going through the hardest part of my life alone because she didn’t make a space for me to feel comfortable enough to talk to her about what was going on with me. This is all about my transition, mind you. When I finally did come out to her and started testosterone, she kicked me out, cursed me out, left threatening messages on my phone, and made me literally want to die. Thankfully, my father (he is my adopted father) was able to give me a place to stay and I’ve been living with him ever since, but the point is: I didn’t really choose that. I didn’t choose to do everything alone. I HAD to do everything alone. She didn’t want to see me transition, she was grieving the loss of my brother and she felt like she was grieving the loss of me (as her little girl) as well. How it made sense for her to kick me out in an effort NOT to lose me is beyond my comprehension. Gee. I’m way off track.

The reason I began writing this post was to speak about the lack of comfort I feel while home. It isn’t like this house isn’t nice and cozy because, in a lot of ways, it is. It is more about the energy of the house. I can’t relax here. I feel like I have to sneak around to do simple things like eating or go out to get food that I actually want and not the same four meals that my dad swears by. I feel guilty for not being productive in this house, even when I’m as sick as I am right now (nothing but a nasty sinus infection). I constantly feel like my dad is judging me for not being him. I feel like he thinks that I am incompetent, lazy, and unmotivated to actually ever do anything with my life. I mean, literally, during one his many unasked for pep talks, he basically called me an idiot for not pursuing business ventures that were simple enough for an eight-year-old to do. Yes, I can spend my summer selling ice cream and make a pretty penny exploiting the tourists of the city downtown, but is that really the kind of work that I want to do? No. And while yes, I can’t really afford to be picky about what my job is when I am without one, I cannot stand being made a fool of for not having the same vision as a 66 year old man who has spent his entire life trying to prove to himself and others that he is capable of greatness. I don’t need that.

He makes it impossible for me to experience any feelings other than gratitude and happiness when I’m home because apparently, every other emotion in the world is a negative testament to my humanity. Not allowed to get frustrated because ultimately everything will be okay. Not allowed to be angry because being angry doesn’t fix anything. Not allowed to be sad because the situation will change someday. Not allowed to be nervous or anxious because it is illogical. Not allowed to be sick because I could have taken precautions to ward off the illness. Literally, anything that happens to me, he finds a way to make it my fault. If my 13-year-old car has brake issues, it is because I don’t know how to drive. It couldn’t be that the brakes are literally 13 years old. It has to be my fault. I understand the significance of introspection, of being self-critical, of analyzing where one could have made better choices, but sometimes, it is enough for things to just suck. Without regard for how things could have been changed. Without regard for whose fault it is.

I’ll admit, some of my frustration is borne of the recognition that he is right in a lot of aspects. Sometimes emotions don’t really do anything but make what is already an unfortunate circumstance feel even worse. Being able to emotionally detach from situations can be highly useful in navigating things calmly and with precision, but I genuinely believe that takes away some of our humanity. To not feel? To replace feeling with only thought? It sounds robotic, cold, and honestly, mildly psychopathic. It makes life easier, yes. There is no doubt about that. But happier? I don’t know. To never feel the downs seem to lessen the value of the ups. One thing my dad said to me that I will never forget: “I never let myself get too far into extremes. Never too high, never too low. No crash that way.” This was on his birthday. His birthday. I don’t know. I mean, perhaps that way of coping with life has been important to him, but I have to imagine that living a life like that has its limits.

I’ve recently been trying to figure him out, but fail to do so. Perhaps I just need to sit and talk with him more. I think something can be said about his underlying psychology and I imagine that it is far more nuanced and complex that I was initially prepared for. I’ve rambled on enough for today. I have a post that I wanted to post before this one, but it isn’t complete yet so looks like this bad boy is up.

[maryofone]

Good Advice

We live in an age of inspirational quotes. Social media is polluted with them. It seems like every other second we’re scrolling past another motivational adage with a beach in the background. I guess it’s kind of nice that we have so many messages of positivity floating around, especially given how many messages of negativity are on the internet, but there is a downside to this overdose of life inspiration: there’s just too damned much of it. We’re all drowning in bite-sized life advice and because there’s so much of it, it’s hard to feel genuinely inspired by any of it.

Seeing all of this disposable life advice on Instagram and Twitter makes me think about the real advice people have given me over the years. Before we were all being force-fed affirmative quotes every day of our lives, what words of wisdom really stuck with me?

I cried when I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet. Apparently this quote originated from some Persian poet, but I just remember my dad saying it to me. Pretty straightforward shit. People always have it worse than you, so stop feeling sorry for yourself. Not sure if it was the poignancy of the shoe/foot image or the influence of my father or what, but I never forgot that one and I do honestly try to bitch about as little as possible in my life.

Worrying means you suffer twice. Apparently a couple of people are known to have said this but I can’t determine the originator, and I can’t recall where I heard it from as a kid. I just remember thinking that was one of the smartest ways of looking at life. It was a powerful enough phrase that I never forgot it, but evidently it wasn’t powerful enough to curb my near-constant worrying.

Make every sentence count. I had a boss tell me this. Not only did he tell me this, he systematically drilled it into my mind over the course of two years. He taught me to respect the time people give me when they read my words, and to not waste any of that time with fluff. He might be lightly horrified by some of the rambling on this blog, but regardless his advice never left me.  And to be honest, my real goal is to apply this advice to how I speak too. That said, filtering the fluff out of my spoken words is a way bigger challenge. 

When in doubt, help other people. This advice I can thank my mother for. Sometimes shit can get reeeally fuckin bad in life, and almost crush you on the inside. In these moments of utter helplessness, when you literally can’t think about anything in your life without wanting to cry or scream or curl up into a ball on the floor… go help some people. Doesn’t matter who. Old people, sick people, people who feel sad just like you. Doesn’t have to be super intense relief work or anything. Even just doing something kind for someone. Even though you’re technically doing something for someone else, it does something for you. Easing someone else’s pain eases your pain too, somehow. A bit of a mystery, but a hopeful one. And good advice to remember when life as you know it feels like complete and total garbage.

Change your ways while you’re young. For some reason back in 2003 there was a single lyric from a fucking Killers song that went into my ears and into my brain and soul and has never fucking left. The song was Smile Like You Mean It and the verse in particular was: Save some face, you know you’ve only got one; change your ways, while you’re young. I was 20 when I first heard that song and even though I had no intention of changing my ways anytime soon, something in me knew it was good advice. I was already familiar with the notion that bad habits are harder to kick as you get older, but I found something really beautiful about the idea of ‘saving face��� with respect to your life as a whole. I want to save face in my life, so I have to change my ways while I’m young. Good call, Brandon Flowers. I’ve always had an eye on the ways that need changing in my life, and I’ve got an eye on the time too.

Slow and steady wins the race. Good ol tortoise and hare. I didn’t particularly care about this story when I was a kid, although I did appreciate the argument for consistency, and planning for the long game. I always remembered this advice but I never really noticed how true it was until recently. When I look around at my life and all of the things I’m most proud of, I see that they’re all the fruits of a loooong labour. My career, my home, my writing, myself. Everything I love about my life I got the slow and steady way. Patience is fucking everything. Consistency is fucking everything. I am a fucking tortoise.

Get a good sleep. My parents were probably first to impart this advice but I’ve certainly heard it from a countless number of people since. It might be my favourite piece of advice of all time. First off, the actual sentence itself has a calming effect; “Get a good sleep, okay?” And secondly, while it may just be a casual phrase you toss at your loved ones before bed, it’s also the most crucial piece of advice you can give to someone who’s coping with something horrible. Whether it’s a traumatic event or a tragedy or an illness, when we have no advice left to give a person who’s suffering, sometimes all you can say to them is “get a good sleep.” As far as following this advice, I’ve been pretty faithful about it most nights of my life. I often get razzed for my farmer-style sleep schedule, but it’s definitely responsible for a shitload of my quality of life. It honestly might be the best life advice there is.

Long before Instagram and Twitter and the river of inspirational quotes, these were the pieces of advice that informed my life. Just stuff from parents and fables and Killers songs. A mixed bag, but some good nuggets if you ask me.

[wetoddidirl-blog]

Please... Help me

I honestly do not know what I am doing here, or even really how to use this website. I... feel this is one of my last real hopes to try and find something in my life. I want to start off that on paper... my life shouldn't be this hard. I've been told by a lot of people they have it worse and that I am just... doing something wrong. I also wish to let... anyone and everyone who reads this know everyone I talk about... I do it from love. They are not bad people, or have done anything wrong in my eyes. Please do not think ill of anyone I talk about. I will also not be mentioning anyone else’s name other then mine.

Hello, my name is Levon and I’m scared and in need of help. I’m not in any physical danger other then what I could possibly do to myself.  I’m not asking for any hand outs or money, or help with anything. I am merely seeking out help in the form of understanding and information. There is something rather wrong me with and I... am not sure exactly what, or even how to approach fixing myself. Thank you to all that read this... and try to help, or even send me good thoughts. I love you all, and wish the best for you. 

I don’t really know where to begin or even how to talk about my problems... and I apologize if this seems like I’m rambling. I guess I will start with why I hurt. I seem to have the ability to find people and make them feel better about themselves. From there I seem to be able to build... what I think to be strong bonds, and even form groups of friends. That doesn't sound too bad... until after a good deal of time goes by... I try to come out of my shell... completely. I am too afraid to show any pain... or issues I might have around people. I don’t try to hide myself... I just was raised where emotions and feelings was something I shouldn't have or show. Every time I reach out to my friends for help it drains them... it hurts them. I don’t blame them as the more I think about it, the more issues I have.  I always find myself... slowly being left behind in my groups of friends to the point they don’t talk to me anymore.  Again, it’s no one’s fault other then mine... I am a drain on anyone and people shouldn't be expected to carry another’s burden. 

This is a pattern that has followed me from grade school and still haunts me to this very day. It wasn't until I started playing FFXIV on Balmung that I seemed to be able to... actually start to form words and actually talk about my problems. I have made so many friends... which I’m grateful for, and always will be. I have turned them all against me. I honestly couldn't tell you what I said, or done that always turns the people I love against me. I don’t know if it’s the fact I pour everything into my friendships until I stumble slightly. Maybe it’s because when I stumble... I don’t think I’m worth being their friend (thought to self).

I have recently made a group of friends... and by recently it has been longer then a year ago since we ‘formed’. My depression and anxiety has been eating me more and more, and it wasn’t helping that it seemed that for as quickly as I could make a friend, I could make two people dislike me and stop talking to me. I won’t lie, I am a needy friend, in that I need to know I’m wanted. It’s hard for me to build up the courage and strength to ask others to do something with me. It usually requires me to start drinking to do such a feat. 

On my birthday this October there was a conflict in my group of friends. I’m the kind of person that will stick up for anyone and everyone, because...  I would want someone to stick up for me (rarely if ever happens). I put myself in the middle... trying to stop everything... trying to calm everyone and defend everyone which didn’t work. One thing led to another and... I came forward about my crippling depression and how I... thought it would be easier for those around me if I just kind of ceased to exist.  How the only thing really keeping me sane was that I was surrounded by people that I love. This was something I don’t have at home. I’m a constant reminder to my mother that I’m a failure and the reason her life isn’t better, and I’m told it quite frequently. 

Ever since outing myself one of my friends... I thought she was my closest friend as she seemed to understand me more then anyone else has in my life. She stopped talking to me completely and has even dropped all forms of communication, as I have become to much to bare. 

My newest friend in the group, was very understanding and fun to be around. We hit it off and become fast and very strong friends. She liked to talk out her problems... which is hard for me because I struggle with words of my feelings... but I’d do it for her because it’s best for her.  I never succeeded in making her feel better in doing so and I always felt like a failure in her eyes. She’s tried to help me with my depression. Between wanting to talk about my feelings, and not hurt anyone elses... my words are jumbled, and often misleading or seem very hurtful or very manipulative. I hate it... that is how I come off when I want nothing more then my friends to feel loved and wanted from me. I never lie to my friends, and I never say anything hurtful... at least purposely. I’m not sure how I did it... but I have made her angry and rather then wanting to talk her problems out with me like she usually wants to... she hardly messages me now.

My third friend which honestly is a good guy. He’s not selfish or rather he is but not in a mean or unkind way. He just knows what he wants, and wants what he wants. He is still very nice and even though he doens’t really understand depression or understand how someone can be depressed. He always made sure to message me from time to time and check up on me... to see how I was holding up and let me know if I wanted to do anything with him. I decline almost every time now as he spends a good deal of time with my other friends so I don’t want to make them uncomfortable. I would rather be alone and miserable then to cause discomfort to them as they are all nice people I am... just to much sometimes.

My fourth friend of the group doesn't fit in with the group. She doesn't really catch social queues the best or always know what to say. She doesn't feel welcome by the group for some time, because she can and does get really emotional about some of the silliest things. She to is a close friend and one that actively still talks to me often. I hate the fact I feel like she is my only remaining friend... and that no matter how hard she might try... I feel like shit and alone. I have started catching myself pushing her away as well because I would rather lose her as a friend then cause her to hate me as well. 

I’m sorry I don’t know how to word the help I need, or really anything. I’m not even sure if anyone will read this or if I care. I needed to write this out in hopes I could find my own answer in what I am to do, because I’m so scared...  of how badly I want to push my friends away... so they won’t have to go through the pain of me.  Regardless if it’s the pain I cause when I’m anxious or... if I choose to take the cowards way out. I’m so terrified that I used to loathe the thought of suicide. In the events in recent weeks and months...  I have re-evaluated my thoughts on the subject.

TL:DR: I am unable to talk about my feelings or problems, and do nothing but push the people I love away from me. No matter how hard I try I always end up failing my friends.... the only people I love. I’m at my wits end, waking up crying every day for how alone and pathetic I feel. I am scared I will hurt others should I lose my fight for life.

P.S. I should add in when I’m feeling really depressed... I push people away and make it hard for them. I am not an easy person to deal with... I never push people away because I think... I am punishing myself. I push people away because I think I am saving them from... me. 

[baconpal]

since ive been complaining about shit already tonight i might aswell just mention random crap that i’ve been thinking about, but ill spare your dash, feel free to read me rambling about absolutely random shit if you want

first some video game stuff i guess;

the good: I don’t have a switch and still definitely cannont justify getting one yet but woo boy does ARMS look good, i wanna try it, and also splatoon 2, i really liked splats when it was first out, and martyo kart, but its p spensive stuff and im a cheap-ass 

the new thing code vein thing is simultaneous promising and incredibly boring to me, cus anime styled action game with the potential for cute girls to be wielding giant fucking weapons is like, my dream, and the boss designs looked pretty good, if a bit unrelated in the trailer, like the moose knight dude is fucking sick and i wanna use his armor, but then there’s also like, abyssal spear lady miku whose fucking cute, and they’re shown right after each other and it becomes a bit hard to follow, and the story seems to be just fucking dark souls “wah we go hollow and the world is a fuck”, i wish it wasnt that, cus dark souls alone made that setting overused, and while a modern-ish universe certainly sounds nice, it looks fucking bleak and they spend half the video in places that just look like bluer versions of DaS3 areas

the bad: so ive already complained about momodora 4, some people like it for some fucking reason but i dont, and now 5 is happening because they cant just make a new fucking series i guess, and it looks awful, like honestly horrid, its fucking shitty 3d when nobody asked for it, and it’s like, all the worst parts of something like dark souls, and none of the good parts and it angers me to no end that they keep dragging this sorta cute and okay free game series into the mud like this when they could make new games and try new things

the ugly: i never funded or thought about supporting indivisible because i had zero fun with the demo and i never really cared for any of the designs other than the redesigns of other characters from other games, and maybe the big fist girl, who didnt really fit in the style to begin with, but now they’re going and doing major redesigns and model updates that just look stupid and lifeless, like “wah wah diversity” drama aside, that cowboy guy went from a gritty, perfectly decent design to like, fucking nothing, he’s nothing now, i cant even identify him as something because he’s just nothing, and the entire cast seems to have been stretched up for no reason, and now a lot of the interestingly wide characters arent very interesting anymore, im not mad about it cus i never planned on getting it, but as an artist when i see artists take a very solid and nice character/design and just make it fucking awful, it makes me mad, especially cus i’ve seen some artists i used to know do it too, not starting drama or something it just seems pretty dumb to take things that are nice and people like and make them into different things when you could just make a new thing and have both

also uh like my friend showed me this jap band called uplift spice and at first i thought they were meh but i cant stop listening to them now its fucken cute rock stuff and it kills me

now art stuff. these are the things i really wanna talk about but they’re really just me problems so if you’ve already made it this far maybe you’ll care about this random shit

so like commissions have gone decently recently, not complaining about nobody wantin em or something, but for the longest time i’ve had people ask me about commissions, ask if there’s slots open or something, or even straight up say they intend to commission me, and then i’ll never fucking hear from them ever again ever, and like, if you just ask “hey got slots?” doesnt mean i expect you to actually get a comm, but it usually suggests there will atleast be a follow up response like “okay thanks but nevermind” or “ok cool ill be contacting you soon” and then actually following up on it, cus without any closure i just get stressed out thinking about why they never get back to me, are the prices too much? are they worried i won’t accept the comm? did they fucking forget i exist? did they get hit by a car? like even if you fucking told me “nevermind i dont want a comm you’re fucking SMELLY and i HATE YOU” i’d feel better cus at least i wouldnt worry about it for a week or something, none of the people reading this are likely the kinds of people who do this, most of them dont even follow me, but cmon man why you gotta make me worry about this shit

and last thing probably (hopefully jesus what am i even typing all this for) so like now that i’m doin comms more to support my own ass i’m really not pushing for requests in my inbox since a lot of them i’d never do anyway unless i got paid, but at the same time, i really liked drawin the ghost lady for that one ask, cus nobody is ever going to comm me for my own characters unless your one of my super good friends and youre just looking for an excuse to give me money, if you DID honestly comm me my OCs i’d fucking love you that’d be sick, but regardless i think that the only requests ill end up doing anymore are cute megalo1 and 2 ideas or stuff of my OCs, but i dont even know if you guys remember or like any of them, i actually have way more of them than i post because i like to design for fun sometimes, but like other than maybe neon idk if any of my OCs are know to any of my followers other than good friends, so idk if you guys would even care enough to request my OCs, but they’re mine and they make me happy so if you wanna see more of them or ask questions about them or anything, feel free to send me asks or messages or whatever, it’d be cool

so ye that’s all the shit im thinken about right now, if you actually could read all that you’re fucking weird and i like you