what living looks like

Well, I'm pulling out hairs so I need to keep my fingers moving. I added ads to this blog. I've tried a couple different formats to see what isn't as "BAM, I'M AN AD!" What do you guys think? ~ Yep. Ok. Well. Today was pretty chill, but it wasn't. Confusing, right? I'm trying to think. Something good that I can dwell in for the time being. A happy place or story that I can share. Something that we being me joy and maybe bring you joy. My art is coming along great. I think I'm finally starting to get a notion of what I like, what I don't like, what I absolutely love to make. I'm still thinking up ideas, writing them down when I can. I'm alive and well, for the most part. That's always good. I'm very grateful for where I am in life. Every time I get to a point where I'm just like "what the f*ck", I just think wtf and then I sit in it for a second. And then I tell myself this moment will be a "remember that time...

I've stepped away from writing for a hot minute because I was so everything. I was stressed. I was overwhelmed. I was over-planning. I was trying to disconnect. I was trying to pick a show to watch. Trying to decide on a movie. I just really couldn't make simple decisions. I honestly just can't remember a time when I was like that. Usually, I can at least just say "eff it" and click on something to watch or listen to that will suck me in. But I just can't. I just started back watching Netflix, little by little. And it's not that I haven't sporadically watched stuff, but I'm a binger. I sit, I watch, and I do some scrolling, or writing, or doodles.  Stay with me lol. This is really going somewhere good (for the most part). But once I wrote those most recent post, I started to feel better. To get that off of my chest, those thoughts out of my brain. It's like I have room for more things, brighter things. I wonder if I was dreading before? Is that...

I legit went to the doctor for a check up and they put me on medicine right then and there. It went something like this: my foot hurts, also does it look kind of puffy. Their response: well given that and how high you blood pressure is, go get this prescription. And now I am a twenty-something on blood pressure medication. For the time-being. I told them I am for sure this is from stress. For sure. About 80%. But it doesn't stop the fact that I need my pressure to be regulated. Also, I need to not be as stressed. And given the current situation in these United States, where life is so good, wearing a mask is an infringement of our rights *insert eye roll*, I don't see that happening anytime soon. So since I had to go pick up a prescription, I also picked up a supplement for my anxiety, and a BP monitor because I've got effing homework. I have to track my blood pressure like I'm a lab rat. And I swear, every time that monitor starts whirring, I feel like an 80 year old w...

If you're anything like me, you tend to keep your reactions to things you don't like to a minimum. Of course it depends on the crowd, but that sentiment doesn't really change. There's just different levels. Something happens, it upsets you in some way, but you hold your tongue. I usually hold my tongue in fear. Fear of saying the wrong thing, feel of saying the right thing and it not being accepted, fear of saying the right thing appropriately and then becoming the villain somehow, fear So, in a room full of my peers/friends whom I've known for a long time, someone made a racist joke. I stopped in the middle of writing this because I just really don't want to rehash it. I'll address this person as she.  She made an inappropriate joke I didn't like. I don't know if anyone else heard her because she slid it in so fast. No one said anything in the moment. I froze and just panicked in the moment. Later on I went over it with my best friend who confirmed ...

I had a dream that me and Chris Pratt were flirting something heavy. Me and him were at a dining/diner-ish table, and we were intertwined. But in a flirty way. He was eating eggs and bacon. I was teasing him because they looked bland. They didn't look as seasoned as they would if we were in my home state. I asked him if that's what happens when you move away from home. Do you just get used to bland food. We flirted some more and I could definitely tell he wanted it.

While I wait for the next part of my new favorite book series to come out, my vagina is suffering. (Not really, I'm exaggerating). But I can't get into any new books really, and I find myself drifting back to watching porn. Which is fine, but it doesn't feel as "scholarly" if that makes sense. I mean, I've found some really, really, really good material, but I love reading more than watching. But watching is doing it for me. The voices, the sounds, the visuals. It's loverly. And I do mean loverly. I feel like that makes me sound bougie. But I'm sure someone out there gets it. I like both, but I prefer the former. Although, typing about it is also doing it for me. Because I'm imagining it, I guess. And typing it out. And reading it as I go. I'm also drinking. Drinking usually gets me going a little. This is a good update. I guess? Maybe. I don't know. So if anyone has any suggestions they want to comment, or email, or send telepathically, he...

I've been having vivid dreams again. But when I wake up, I guess I'm trying so hard to get back there, I end up forgetting the dream. But I have bits and pieces of the last one. I had a dream I was at some church or retreat event with my boyfriend. A guy cam up to us and gave us these almost Twitter-shaped bird pins. We both put ours away. Then I think I may have asked for another? We get the other and open it. I grab the backing and my boyfriend grabs the pin. I reaches to put it over my boob and I laugh and say "no, that's too low." Then I put the backing against the inside of my shirt to show him where to place the pin. It was a kind of intense, but really cute moment. Then, for some reason, this guy starts giving him shit. I don't know why and I don't remember what was said. But I remember walking up to my car I'm guessing. (I think it was like a blue, weirdly shaped car. Something I don't think I would drive. At all. Maybe we were borrowing it...

I have just realized my vagina will basically always been younger than me. The way it's looking now, I could be 30 years old with an 18 year old vagina. My vagina is unused. Brand new. Still has the tags on it. This is not me bragging. Being a virgin sometimes feels like the heaviest weight ever. I appreciate it, but good God it's alot to carry. Anyway, my vagina still has the new car smell. The first guy that gets in there will not even be able to pop wheelies if he doesn't know what he's doing. When I have sex, I've always said I want it to be with someone experienced. Experienced, safe, smart, and considerate. You don't give a brand new car to someone who literally just learned how to drive. You put someone who's put in some hours on the road behind the wheel. Someone who will appreciate it, and knows exactly how to drive it. I mean, he can handle the road. But what if he is experienced, but my vagina is so tight, it's just too much to handle. I like ...