There is no better song to describe Johnny Vincent's situation than "When Doves Cry" by Prince

Found a cool color palette. Might finish it later. (Probably not.)

Often I just cannot comprehend the lack of curiosity so many people have towards the rest of the world... Different cultures, people, languages, food, architecture, stories. To me this is what life is about, this is the most awe inspiring.

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

I think one of the main reasons I don't want to be famous is the lack of privacy. Like people suddenly feel entitled to your life. The explosion of influencers and online public figures has really warped our sense of respect and boundaries. I don't need to know my favourite internet person's daily routine or their what their private instagram full of people they've known since elementary school follow.

Like yeah, the person that sits in their dark house, with no lights and never opens the blinds is a little creepy but, the person standing at their window, yelling at them to open them, is terrifying.

"If you have done nothing to wrong, then there's nothing to hide."

And what authority do you have to look?

okay, I need to get this out of my head and maybe ask for an opinion if you'd also feel slighted or feel I was being dismissive and/or incompetent at work? (probably will delete this later)

I had a cat today in need of catheterisation (clogged urethra) and I did what I could for over an hour but I wasn't able to place the catheter inside. (I get "clogged cats" once every few months at most because I have a very small practice and so far I never encountered this much trouble.) I work alone so the owner was there holding the patient for all my attempts. I thought this cat might actually need surgery and since I don't do surgery I sent the owner away with directions for where to go.

I get a notification two hours later that the owner review bombed me on google and also invited two friends to do it as well (three one-star reviews at the same time so it's obvious)

she didn't pay much, only for the materials used and sedation

she thought I was being incompetent but I only wanted to spare this cat renal failure, maybe she thought I didn't care? as in I did nothing for you, now pay and off you go? I mean it might've looked that way, like I just gave up. Should I've tried for longer? Be honest. I literally don't know how certain things can be viewed by others sometimes.

from the context i figured the other vet did place the catheter so I'm at least happy the cat should be ok

the other side of oblivion

ya girl is back at it again with another DE fic ✌️ 4,528 words, pretty heavy angst (with an uplifting conclusion), and features a healthy sprinkling of some of my favourite quotes from the game.

this was written rather obsessively over the course of 2 days, most of which fell in the early hours of the morning because i apparently Do Not Know how to maintain a proper sleep schedule when i'm inspired to write. bit of a different format than the usual as well, which was fun to try it out!

as always, love to hear your thoughts if you read it (tysm for reading regardless 💖), share if you'd like, and hope you enjoy :)

Anyway I'm really sick and tired of this college

when you have an incredibly stressful d&d session and come away from it frustrated and dreading the next one and two days later your DM has a Talk with you about you playing or not playing your character a certain way ✌

Idk man if you're constantly talking about your crushing loneliness and feelings of being ostracised and left out when you ostensibly have a bunch of friends around you then maybe the feelings of loneliness aren't the problem there

wild how the more i'm working on recovery. the more i realize how fucking bad i miss her.

Breakthrough - I think I finally kinda get money. It's taken a lot of hard work to figure it out, but I think the problem was that I fundamentally could not focus on money. Like it made sense, but how it motivated people just made no sense.

But I had a moment of clarity today, that my financial situation is bad(??) And I should probably make more choices that result in me obtaining money.

One problem, fuck it's hard to focus on money. Like I'm happy as can be to make a little budgeting sheet, track my spending, record my savings it's a walk in the park, I fucking love paperwork. But that's not actually Getting Me more money. Even if I write it all out, the problem is that I'm struggling to react to money.

The moment of clarity came to me, when I wrote down all of my little online stores I made over the years in a list. I have a goal of making a certain amount of money this year (I've calculated it and everything). So I made a goal for each online store: how much do I want each store to make this year so I reach my financial goal?

Guess what I wrote down? $5. $10. $50. $100.

I was fucking happy the whole time to just sell One. Thing. A. Year. And that would be a success to me! In my brain that would flip the switch that goes "Yep I made money. Don't need any more!" And I would be satisfied with those amounts and not even THINK about making more.

SO, those whole time working on these online stores, I thought I was setting up something financially stable, because it FELT stable. If I sold a few things in one day and made $10, I was like "hell yeah". But, that doesn't fit with my financial goal. But it seriously felt like it was. I know intellectually this makes no sense because it's simple math, but basically I had a freaky moment where I could tell my perspective was warped somehow. Like, until I wrote it down, I SERIOUSLY thought those stores would make enough money to reach my goal. Because it FELT like they would, everything felt fine! Nothing felt stressful or 'not enough'! I never felt the need for more, even though factually I need more!

That really, REALLY gave me some pause.

It made me realise, "Wait, I am not processing the concept of money like most people... I think"

I think i found out what I'm good enough and it's being a fucking secret. But i understand. I mean who am i kidding? That's literally the best i can have and deserve.

Share Your Last Seven Lines/Heads Up, Seven Up

Thanks for tagging me @leng-m! Glad to see you're writing, especially after the 10k disaster. ❤️ I've actually been poking at a new story, one about a girl who hunts monsters, so this was really fun.

I had been walking for only a short time when the scream pierced the dawn.

I froze on the path, and then, low under my breath, I cursed.

It was not a human scream – it was too high-pitched for that, more like a jungle cat with a clattering, creaking, clacking hiss twisting round it. I had been told that the village of Lesa was experiencing monster troubles, but I had not expected to run into it just yet.

My hand tightened atop my cane. Even now, after nearly three years of forcing myself to go toward trouble instead of away, it wasn’t easy. I put one foot in front of the other, as quickly as I was able, but before I could get very far, a shape parted the mist and hurried toward me.

I'm gonna tag anyone else who wants to do it because I always need more writer friends. :)

thinking about archiving & remaking my oc multi tbh

This website...

Without any modern algorithms I might add

manages to constantly and consistently!!!

Make me feel like nun trying to remain true to her vows while being dragged through all the temptations of hell.