Sometimes I Remember That There Was A Little Boy Who Thinks I'm Really Cool.

HAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHHAHAAHAHAA

What I thought working in a library would be like,

What it's really like,

What it's really really like,

Me at the beginning of the school year: I fucking hate the guys they're so transphobic, I don't feel safe at school. Atleast the girls are nice..

Me now: screw the guys, the girls are assholes. You're not the fucking victim here you prick. Don't try to tell me to "Stop being so negative" I will break your fucking ankles. YOU SAID GAY BEST FRIEND LIKE IT WAS A GOOD THING??? unironically too, wtf. And I suppose Im sorry for being a little stingy when you asked if my pronouns were they/them, you almost gave me fucking anxiety attack over that. (Props to ya use they/them, that's super cool and prolly really sexy) I've been out for the past two to three years and you've only properly met me and been introduced to me after I came out, my pronouns have been he/him for a long while. And don't think about "how could I be homophobic if my uncle is trans"

I'm genuinely astonished you weren't paying attention enough to get transphobic and homophobic right. Also that's got the same energy as "how can I be racist? I have a black friend." Like what made you think that's an intelligent answer?

She's lucky for ta couple things. One, that I have restraint and have worked on my anger management since last year. And two, that I got too stressed to even bring it up to a teacher. The thought of having to explain how someone is being mean to me makes me feel like I'm going to cry, and I don't like that.

I'll have to make a record of this before I forget so,

Kintsugi - on March seventh, I came to an idea. Eventually, this idea was called Kintsugi, named after the Japanese art of putting broken pottery back together with gold. Which is the only way to describe the main idea of the story.

It follows a young man who uses a wheelchair (I've not developed this story well enough to know why), he's in college and has an adoration for pottery, of which he owns many pieces. But he feels like he's fallen into a nightmare of monotonous life, and endless cycle of class, sleep and commuting. One push, and then another, waiting for life to change. While sitting in class one day, a tardy student comes to sit next to (oh god wait I don't have names.. (we'll call them 1 and 2 stfu)) 1, who is strangely attracted to this carefree mess of a man. After sharing some missed notes with 2, 1 is introduced to a new way of see life. Become close friends, 2 teaches 1 to enjoy a crisp view of the world, one filling with unbridled love and optimism. This evolution is tackled delicately enough over the course of serveral chapters. Eventually, while hanging out one evening 1 discovers 2 was never everything 1 thought he was. There's no short way to write this scene without doing a great injustice. Basically 2 was only ever as you chose to see him, a prefect piece of porcelain, or Kintsugi.

Inspiration comes from basically anywhere, but sometimes I want something to occupy my mind as I live. So I make stories from small fragments of inspiration. Usually agitation, if I'm being honest. Sometimes they come from small bits of hope. Those are always my favorite.

Today I believe it was hope. Maybe optimistically, I want to believe it was hope.

The morning light perfectly illuminated only one of my drums.

Let's not forget the show specific ones,

"this anime tied me to the back of a truck and dragged me around" - Trigun

"this show made me an orphan and then killed my cool uncle" -a series of unfortunate events

Mfw one of my special interests is leftism but I can't talk about it to anyone I know:

Edgar Allan Poe

The ticket is always blank

I feel as though life has been passing me by

It feels like I'm at a train station

Watching the trains pass

Wonder which one was mine

It's hearing a busker's guitar, calm peaceful

We stand their in our own melancholic solitude

Not daring to look up

Buried in our own self doubt

It's watching clouds roll over blue skies

It's watching the seconds tick

Waiting for the clock to fall

And my body to decay

It was laying in the grass

Trying to become a bug

It was standing in the rain

To become a puddle

I think of these things

These thoughts of death that plague my brain

I watch another train go by

The next one, I think,

I'll get on

My brother made some soup today and as I started eating, it tasted very bland. He poured his soup and then left the room, so I added some salt to mine. and, yup. Much better, so I added salt to his bowl. And then added salt to the pot of soup.

I think I just older brothered my older brother