On Writing Trauma

Only day you can reblog this

VANDALF

"Untitled document (1)" my beloved

(@mathematical-apprentice)

"save as copy" my beloved

gUYS my grandma just sent me pictures she took of foxes playing in her snow-covered yard and they're the most precious things everrr I just wanted to tell someone :)

I just so happen to have a swordfighting group for you

Can we please bring back saying huzzah?? No more stupid slang, I want to exclaim loudly “HUZZAH” as I cross the street, cause I'm happy I can cross.

"And... what do I do with the other two wishes?" the genie asks, looking... uncomfortable?

You thumb through the book in your hand, watching the genie flicker like stop motion as you look between her and the book's pages. The deal is done. You close the book and set it aside.

"Well, you could just give them to the next person, right?"

"No, each person gets three. You, the next person, the next. They can't have four or five."

"But I can have just one, right?"

"Honestly... I don't know? From what I know it's more transitory; you can have one wish under the premise that you will eventually have your second and third."

There are things you could wish for. Maybe you could apply the same principle to writing. Or you could as for a nice honey and lemon drink, something to just get the wishes out of the way. But something inside you just... doesn't want that.

"What about you?" you find yourself asking, eyes lowered to the ground. Ashamed? "Does it... does it ever get tiring?"

She heaves a sigh. "If you're thinking about wishing for my freedom, hoping to leverage a friend out of the deal, I prefer to remain in my genie state. (And they patched that bug years ago.)"

"Of course they did," you muse, not giving that part too much thought. You were asking a different question. "But what I meant was, the magic. Do you ever get tired?"

She's quiet for a moment. "What do you mean?" she asks, voice a little whisperier than before.

"Is that a yes?"

Quiet.

"You could - you could stay here. Or everywhere. Wherever. You don't have to not be a genie, you just don't have to grant wishes for a while either. I'm still thinking of my last two wishes." Your heart is beating way harder than you feel is justified. You pick up the book again and open it to some page in the beginning middle, staring down the words until your racing heart slows down.

You close the book to find the genie lost in thought.

She looks at you with a half smile. "I gave you that power, you know. I'm something of exempt from the time-pausing."

You redden a bit. "Sorry."

"It gave me time to think," she says.

You both stand there for a minute.

"And did you-"

"Keep your wishes," she blurts. "Don't use them."

You're both trembling, you because of what you might have just done, her probably for similar reasons.

"Do you want a hug?"

She engulfs you in a huge embrace, still shaking like a leaf. "I'll be back one day," she says.

Then the hug ends, and she turns and goes. Out the door and gone.

You retire to the couch to scrunch up in a corner and process everything that just happened. Time would pass, and...

Well, you had work in the morning. You pick up a book. No matter what you read, it all comes out reminding you of her.

She'd be back one day.

"YOU HAVE THREE WISHES," the genie says grandly. "Oh no, that's fine I don't need all three. I just wanted one." The genie raises an eyebrow. "So what is your 'one' wish?" "I wish for time to stop every time I pick up and read a book—and start again when I put it down, so I always have time to read."

update! i bought spinach because it has iron! next time I have rice we're gonna party but for now i kinda just monch it straight outta the bag like it's potato chips

doing something I hate (making rice) so I can do something I love (delaying my inevitable demise)

brother just yanked me along for a car ride all over town to deliver handmade treats to half of his friends and sure I'll pretend with you. I'll crawl into an old skin of mine for you. Anyway the point here is that we get to the last house and he goes "yeah she's kinda angry with me right now, rightfully so. You deliver this one" and well she was my friend too back when I lived here

so I go and deliver the scones (which a, it's adorable that my brother made treats for his friends because he's not really into baking or anything, and b, it's doubly adorable because this friend goes nuts over our homemade scones) and she was so happy to see me!! and we had a happy moment!!

anyway my brother is adorable and it's so awesome and wholesome of him to like. specifically make specific treats for a friend who's not even talking to him at the moment. and concoct an elaborate plan of "drag the older sister along for no reason at all so friend can feel comfortable accepting the scones and maybe sister will cheer up friend while she's at it but don't tell sister about any of this until we are in friend's driveway"

Merry Christmas, at least there are still some people who do neat things like that. How amazing that I get to be his sibling.

Walmart employee story time.

(Disclaimer: I am not a Walmart employee yet. This is about a Walmart employee I encountered.)

My sister and I went to Walmart for our biweekly grocery expenditures (that's how you use that word, right?) and while we're in the dairy section "Come Sail Away" by Styx is playing. Heck yes so I'm singing along, it's especially fun to do the chorus. I'm doing it quietly because I don't want to embarrass my sister in public or anything but in a moment I look over and there a few refrigerators away is a Walmart employee stocking and... also singing!

Anyhow the song fades out and my sister and I go about out business but when that guy was done with what he was doing he approached me and said, "Hey... so I uh. I noticed you were singing along to the other song. It made me really happy to hear someone was singing that song, I was singing along too."

:D .

He was really nice and went back to work but man that stuck with me.

good morning kings! let's push this boulder!

good morning kings let’s push this boulder