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Bring out the whelp
The husk shows promise; Underneath the chub there is muscle, I promise. In the best shape and somehow weigh what I did in HS. That old slacker could never huff like this one can. I'm all these years in the making, honing and practicing; the boilerman burns the fuel ( Read more... ) -
Warped Crane//Deluded Frame
After the absolute worst artist-client experience ever, I've decided to use written contracts to protect myself and my work from deluded narcissists.
AKA CooCooBamanas Fakehearts adventures in confirmation bias.
How ridiculous to not heed an awful reputation, how inane and naive of me. -
Hiding Child//World most Wild.
And to hide from the garbage headaches stemming from his deeply drinking eyes, the husk was cobbled of the construed psychic ephemera and moored to the core, the armor has become the knight. His heart, accustomed to be as anvil has nursed addictions to drinking fire and hammering out flaws ( Read more... ) -
Minds like cornered rats.
Weak and critical, lashing out, trying to gain leverage. Don't Panic just let them slide by. -
(Untitled)
Can't help myself, let it go, people are going to carry assumptions for decades. -
Eyes puffy, lips dry, nose itchy, demeanor poor.
Growing older brings the body stuff most strange. -
Wicked Bitch Found a Way... Good for her!//bad for me?
What a skeptic I've become, how amazingly functional it actually is. I know the societal impressions are falsified now ( Read more... ) -
the
The double-jaw and multi-tongue, the weathered heart of the vermilion run. Cascading aortas twine calcified, all manner of organic postulations bear witness, perched from carbonate castles, photo-reactive tissues make guesses at the Horned One's descent. A planned planetary devouring in the order deus archean hovers for the infinite instant, ( Read more... ) -
I'm not the kind of person who has anxiety attacks
No, instead I have this feeling like a giant has put a rough hand in my gut to strangle my intestines. A clenching sensation in the middle of me. I can't bring myself to eat, a personal nightmare. I have food I can have but the fist won't let me gaze at anything with a familiar hunger.
This time of year always brings an enormous amount of pressure ( Read more... ) -
An ossified bone flute caterwauls a tale of puissance
Ragged hate cast and baked on bone, a maw raking unimaginable angles through the air, spewing words like thick fiery hands waving. Horn and shell adornments and accouterments drip out of nothing to drape over shoulders and head and the furthest edge drools like thick paint, collapsing into the gurgling grey fen, crimson sheet bleeding over a ( Read more... )
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