I mean that's 5 years right there, hey? Such a weird feeling of nostalgia and melancholy to be writing something for this again.This is post number 99! Not sure yet what I'll do for the 100th post, but hey, I've got at least 5 more years to think about it baha
I did this subject in Uni based on writing for kids, and I wasn't great at it, but it got me thinking a lot about Skulduggery Pleasant and this blog. That book and this place brought me a lotta good times, even if Derek himself is a bit heinous.
These days are alright: I'm done with uni, I'm in a good rental, got a good therapist. Lotta those things will help me figure other things out, at least. This post already feels a little flat but that's okay. Can't all be highs and lows, ya gotta have some middling content in there to feel middlingly content, ya know?
Couple years ago my cat of 15 years passed away. He was both brother and bastard. Lotta people hated him but I loved him to bits. I didn't get to say goodbye to him face to face, and that's okay. I miss him, though. He was here over half my life. I don't know what to do with that.
I got back into writing poetry for a spoken word event, and I'm really proud of how I went! The poem's about progress, and the crushing cycle of life, and anxiety, and my cat, and my dad a little bit too. Just a whole lotta nonsense. Here, enjoy:
Ah, the Great Plateau. Come take a seat next to me and we'll look out at the sunset together.
I've also been doing a lot of writing for uni, so here's a slice of sci-fi trucker life:
While the long-haul cargo freighter Rosemary begins its glacially slow docking sequence, Suzie is reclining, still strapped to her seat but with boots now atop the dash. A system-wide radio held aloft in one hand, the other idly flicking away at the console switches, she pauses her routine shut-down sequence only to bark laughter and verses back into the receiver.
Not unlike the palm-readers of her home station, Suzie has always
reckoned you can tell a lot by the crow’s feet planted around someone’s eyes and
the lines tracing their faces, but the loud mouths spitting back and forward on
the channel have never seen hers. They haven’t seen the brushed steel hair
roughly buzzed almost to the scalp, nor the worn red flannel that would smell
like home to all. When she grumbled about her aching shoulder (and grumble she
often did), they didn’t picture that the shoulder in question actually ended
shortly thereafter, replaced by an outdated mechanical prosthetic.
They did know
about Mr Moonbeams, but only through his occasionally heard meows as he tried to
paw through the zero-gravity cabin to reach Suzie’s lap. She gladly refused to
let them know the colour of his coat even as a deep betting pool was made,
thoroughly enjoying all the fuss over her old tortoiseshell companion instead.
I guess this feels like less of a journal and more of a portfolio, hey? too bad fuckos you signed up for this when you were 13, and now we're all adults and you're reading this like "Damn do i really still have Blogger.com email updates turned on? Not for long"
Also I sold my bike lol thought y'all should know. It was cool asf but kept breaking down in public too often - join the club, I guess
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I wrote the majority of this post^ waaaay back in November 2024, now I'm writing the rest of this in May 2025. Things kinda went all over the place since then. Lotta highs. Lotta extreme lows. I went through a period of my life in April that was an all time low mental-health-wise. Kinda just getting out of it now. Started journalling for a bit though, that's pretty good for me.
Winter's cold and I'm shivering on the way back up.Can't wear the jacket forever.
Final bit of show 'n' tell: my best sibling Bedi organized for my cat's ashes to be heisted back to me from my estranged dad, and made this incredible ring from them:
I miss my cat. I miss just talking to him like it's just us against the world |
Ah, well. These days are still alright, they just don't feel like it all the time. See you in five years when it feels a little warmer --