it doesn’t matter. In a good way. And it doesn’t have to be good, it just has to exist. I can write whatever here. Post a picture and throw up in the margins. It’s all good and glued together. So what. Let’s make a zine or draw my dreams and wish the ones who were in them could watch too. If only I could upload them! text them to you! I can exist under snow as long as I need, and write on this website if only for me.
It’s a funny story actually. On 11/11/11 at 11:11am I made a wish to be more interesting. So I waited and waited. You know when some kids are little, they have blonde hair and when they get older it turns brown? Well I was a copper toned brunette for many years and then one day I woke up and snap it was blue. It’s a nice shade though, don’t you think? Light, almost pastel and compliments my skin tone quite nicely. And so it grew out naturally like this for a year. But then a few months ago I cut it. And just like Rapunzel, the magic was gone. It started growing out brown again, you see these roots? Pretty soon my body will turn to ash, my skin soaked up by the dirt. I’m not dying I’m just going back to blending in with the background. And without all this attention on me, I will wither and die.
Playing the violin again
I don’t know who I am with it
Do I not seem like it
Has it left me
Are the two of us together
Yu Yu Hakusho inspired poem. Fanfic poetry? What will end up on this blog next?
Kurama Watches Hiei
Something about it being April
While my friend
So quietly stares at the ocean
Like it’s a library
His back to me.
One hand shoots black fire into the sky
It falls like newspaper
To torch the sea
Scorch his arm.
I want to tell him come here
Let me rinse you forever.
I hear him laugh at this,
or squish his eyebrows together.
If you can squish your eyebrows together
What can you do with your ears?
Hear what my arms want
with your whole body
Rest it on my flowerbed.
These are thoughts I have while reading books. Halfway through or in the beginning.
- “Me Before You” by Jojo Moyes: There’s not a single likable character in this whole book, yet somehow I’m still reading.
- “The Tradition” by Jericho Brown: Reading poetry is the only time I’m not afraid to die.
- “Wind/Pinball” by Haruki Murakami: Now THIS is a f*ckin BOOK. Is it necessary to describe every single woman’s boobs though?
I’ve got like 30 pages of fanfiction and there’s no sex yet. I think I’m doing it wrong. Anyway I think ONLY of time travel. Do not bother me with other thoughts! I’m reading a lot of manga. So far only Yu Yu Hakusho and My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia but the latter is so popular in the digital library that I’m reading them completely out of order. Volume 8 was first, then 6, and 12 is now available. Please don’t spoil either of these stories!
I started reading Haruki Murakami’s “Wind/Pinball” and halfway through I was like “that’s it, I know what I have to do” so I put the book down and have thought about picking it back up the past few days. How fascinating!
There was a novel in the works about a school for psychics but I got stuck writing it because everyone knows what’s on the test and my MC was too powerful but so very boring. You ever write a book and can’t put a plot in because everyone’s too nice? Now I’m into time travel (meme: two astronauts in space, one gazes at the earth and asks “You’re into time travel?” and the other astronaut floats behind him with a gun to the guy’s head and says “always was”) & fanfic and don’t have energy for these psychics!
first draft story about time travel romance – I’m trying to write more casually. Getting caught up in being literary makes my writing stiff.
Since the aftermath of the disastrous party, Lilac couldn’t bring herself to go back to the coffee shop, because he might be there. He looked just like her former unrequited love. Well, just the outfit. Tell me, how does a woman so strong and charming end up chasing after the only men who are most difficult to break through?
Expert Michele Tiery (her expertise is in being a best friend) speculates she’s after The Chase. She’s after the feeling of winning a difficult battle.
Oh, there’s a handsome man who rarely smiles and won’t open up his heart? Well well well! Looks like a job for Lilac Valentine!
Lilac Valentine loves playing games with these men. All she’s after is their pure spirit to leak through, to bubble up to the surface, creating a ripple effect in their lives. And then, like a sexy Nanny McPhee, she leaves. Why stay when the jig is up? Most of them end up being shitty anyway.
A long time ago, however, there was one man who she chased. Caught. And couldn’t let go of.
He was a skilled swordsman, a half human half bird who wore nothing but black and white. Making out was a little troubling, as he had a beak. But that was all right with her.
In the end, Lilac realized the bird man pulled the very same trick on her as she had with so many others. But they fell in love together. They made tea, ate bugs (mostly him), watched television. Tried to build flat pack furniture. And then one day, she accidentally stepped into the future, leaving everyone she ever loved behind.
The future was mostly glass, grass, and
ass pottery barns. Not the store, actual barns for pottery.
In this new time, how would Lilac Valentine utilize her skills at cat and mouse romance to force life itself to chase her? For lost time to catch up?
She was out of ideas. How could she flirt with adventure? How could she tell jokes and make the mountains laugh? And most challenging of all. How would she learn to love life itself again?
No love interested her. No man, no woman. No cuties.
She wandered through her new city, her new time. What’s a girl to do when she’s thrust into the far future with no job, no friends, no family? [author’s note: lol burn notice]
Lilac goes for a cup of coffee everyday and writes everything down. Spends her whole day catching up on the last few hundred years of music and culture. And everyday, there’s another regular she runs into. Waves hello most times.
Today she didn’t wave hello. Just a head nod. Catching on that the interactions were getting less personal, he had to do something.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s your name?”
He wore only black and white. What’s this guy’s deal? What is he, some type of minimalist?
“Lilac Valentine. I’m not from around here.”
“I’m Leif. I’m not from around here either.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from the future. It’s weird living so far in the past. None of the music I like has been born yet. I guess you could call me an aspiring fan.”
“Oh really? I’m from the past. Everyone I ever loved is dead. And the music I like was written so long ago, nobody remembers it.”
“Wow, we’re really a match huh!” he said with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck, which was free from feathers. “Wanna sit at the same table for coffee tomorrow?”
And so they agreed to meet the next morning. They talked about music, about culture, how much has changed, how weird it is to be the only two time travelers in the city, how the online groups for time travelers are never reliable because the longest ones only live for a hundred years or so.
Life as an accidental time traveler is tricky. Everyone’s moving and going. You never know when someone’s going to stay or leave. Every day could be your last.
Ever since I had access to computers with Paint installed, I’ve made these little scribble and fill digital paintings. All you do is open whatever art app you have (this was in Procreate), pick a utensil, and scribble! Then fill the shapes with whatever colors you want.
I thought my custom myspace backgrounds were hot honey.
I love making them because it’s sort of mindless and I often get something that looks cool, even if the edges end up fuzzy and flawed. It’s a fun way to play with new color palettes, as well as learning the program you’re working with. I also do these on paper sometimes.
I hope you’re finding ways to have fun during quarantine!
Talk to you soon,
Why aren’t air filters biodegradable? The wide variety of small filters that go in air purifiers, the large flat ones that go wherever there are air ducts, the ones for cars. They’ve all gotta be changed consistently anyway, but they just get thrown away. What’s the point of having air filters if they’re just going to contribute to dirty air in the long run? Yes, I’m familiar with dust.
I’m not doing a reading goal this year. It never works for me and takes the fun out of reading books because it always feels like I have to. Yuck!
I don’t know who else struggles with this, but with my ADHD, it’s really difficult to finish books. Most books can’t keep my attention for more than a chapter, and I end up starting dozens more than I finish.
That said, I didn’t read many books in 2020, but here were my favorites:
- Undead Girl Gang by Lily Anderson – witchy in all the right ways, although it left me with a very creepy and visceral image of mushrooms. I read this months ago and I’m still creeped out.
- The Hand on the Wall (Truly Devious, #3) by Maureen Johnson – I really loved this series and the final book tied it all together.
- How We Fight For Our Lives by Saeed Jones – I listened to the audiobook, which I highly recommend. You know when people say, “Jesus Christ, read a book!” to signal that you need to broaden your horizons? I recommend this one. It’s gay, coming of age, historical, and immensely visual. I remember this book like it was a movie.
- A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott – so many red flags, such romance, and terrible drama! I never read Little Women but I bet it’s nothing like this one.
It’s been Halloween for three seasons.
I don’t mean October 31st
We’re not in a time loop.
It’s been a half-open otherworld up here.
Misty metallic air, like the whole atmosphere is woven with ghosts.
Earth breathes greener than it’s ever been in front of these eyes (these old bad boys, these astigmatic dorks)
The sky blinks sunny and blue but there’s a rainy electricity in the air.
You can smell it.
It’s Halloween so early? So late? So long
But it’s Spring. It’s gotta be. The weather searches for softball
and shuffles the tarot cards.
Mushrooms puff out of the grass,
and candles do too, like ominous flaming flowers (all colors)
There’s a twinkle in the eye of every pond
glitter in the inhale
of dusk and dawn
and all of us can fly.
Trees crack their backs and
all black cats can talk
birds chirp fairies fairies fairies
I hope this lasts.