On why I just leave.
Two weeks ago, I had to leave an online space.
It was an oasis-in-a-desert type of online space. If you're in a marginalized group, you know exactly the space I am talking about: the kind where it's a safe haven, a group to
Albi
The inevitable: silence grows longer
And before you knew it, two seven months have passed by. I had no drafts or throwbacks to throw into the queue, so the silence lingered.
A bit has happened since then: we've moved to a bigger and better house, I received my vaccination (edit: and booster!), I
15 minute break in the warehouse graveyard
The city can't take it away from me.
Despite all this concrete
Hard angles
Grey-white walls
The wind still carries the scent of forest.
Oil is nothing
Once I find
The undertone of flowers.
All that remains may be grass,
But the weeds escape to remind me.
It's been a week, and I haven't written.
I was on vacation last week.
Before, I made plans: to fix things around the house we've been putting off, to play video games, to talk to people, and to write.
Before and during, I also focused on making my space feel more like "me." That
TBT: 03 Doubts
Throwback Thursday: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 15:00:55 on the VerboseTerse instance, yadda yadda yadda. Notable that this was for the write31days challenge for that year; I decided to write about my non-binary gender experience. This is from the third day, about my doubts before coming out.
So
Wound Up: rereading The Windup Girl
I blame my depression/anxiety on top of current events, but lately I've had the urge to reread something-punk dystopian hellscapes. The Windup Girl, specifically.
When I first picked up the novel years ago, it took me some determination to get through the (what I thought was
#TBT: Yung Seabitch
2015-02-27 (It was also posted to StoriesPortal, ne'e TaleVault, but as of this posting I've been unable to bring up the site.)
"What the hell did I just watch!?"
I shut off the television in disgust. That was it? Is that what
