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jakkon-and-rose-topic · 1 month

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EVERYONE PLEASE HELP WITH MY PROJECT, EVEN IF I DIDN'T TAG YOU

I call upon all writers, please

I will accept any type of assistance

Any type at all

@vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @agirlandherquill @ajgrey9647 @mk-writes-stuff @illarian-rambling @supersoakerfullofblood @smudged-red-ink

I know this is probably not a good thing to ask some pretty busy people, But I'm trying to Brainstorm an argument between J&R that drives a rift between them for a bit

Feel free to pass this right up, but I'd love if you were to give me a few suggestions, lines, or even help me build the dialogue.

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If you want to help here's the overview:

(Rose calls Jak Horns and Jak calls her Petals until shit gets serious - Like someone's going to die or unless they're really angry.)

Rose and Jak get into a heated argument over... something? (Idk what... but it's probably Jak's mental issues)

Rose ends up hurting Jak by saying he's worthless, (She very much doesn't mean it but she's got some anger-management issues)

Jak ends up hurting her by Saying he doesn't care about her and/or he doesn't care about her efforts to help her and just wants to be alone (He also very much does not mean that, but he also has issues with anger)

Neither of them can really communicate properly, and I have Rose's End Line that hurts Jak, but I don't have his that hurts her.

So far I've just got this outline:

Start it off with R confronting J about [issue]

J shoots back with a very tired, and frustrated snide comment, because he knows about [issue] but he doesn't know how to fix it and it's making him angry with himself

R says something sarcastic back because she's getting annoyed

They go back and forth for a bit

It escalates with J saying something about how not everyone can be so perfectly level-headed all of the time

R shouts at him for that

More back and forth

It escalates again with R saying he's too sentimental

They take jabs at one another's insecurities for a bit (For Rose: Her hiding her feelings, the fact that she's very passionate and loud most of the time, and for Jak his drinking and his inability to cope with himself and his memories)

Then R Says something about how she cares about him

J shoots back with his Hurt Line

And She immediately shoots back with hers and storms out, (Probably crying)

At this point J is probably also crying

{I'm planning on letting the Argument run when I write but I need a framework so it doesn't go completely off the rails,}

Anyway, Rose's main goal here is to kick some sense into Jak

And Jak's main goal is to get Rose away from him so he can't hurt her anymore. He wants to use this argument as a way to hurt her badly enough so she'll leave and not be truly hurt when he eventually dies, or hurt herself by trying to help him

He wants to keep her safe, and in his eyes the only way to do that is to hurt her enough so that she stays out of harm's way.

So, I only have these so far:

"You can be suck a fucking Prick sometimes, Horns!" - R

“Why should you? Why do you? I don’t want you to! Why can’t you just leave it alone? Why can't you just leave me alone?" - J

And Rose's hurt line which I will keep to myself for now.

I will take anything, Lines, series of lines, descriptions, tips, brainstorming sessions, reconstructing of the outline, Literally Anything

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roselyn-writing · 2 months

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A/N: Pic is not mine! I found in in pinterest.

When a Rose turns black chapter 19

“Raqoul’s lament”

The darkish red shroud of night covered the streets of Malrūn city; shrouding them in a veil of ominous blackness — and the sky – it looks like as if it bleeding with red. However, even the darkest of nights could not match the darkness that lay inside Raqoul’s heart. who waited, desperate for even the faintest hint of change in his life.

From his luxurious golden balcony that is decorated with garnet and red agate gems in many symbols and styles, he longed for some changes to happen, anything that could turn his life around.

He lowered his head as he squeezed his hands into fists, trying to show his anger as much as possible. But he knows well that he has no one to blame but Lucifer. He is the one who betrayed and killed his leader, Souma.

It has been said that Souma was a figure of great power and fearsome reputation, and he earned the moniker of 'The Annihilator' amongst both Virginians and demons alike. He is rumoured to have been responsible for the extermination of both the Ki'enn and Mi'enn, two powerful and ancient and dangerous species that were once a threat to many; The stories surrounding Souma himself are shrouded in mystery and legend, but one thing is clear: his name strikes fear into the hearts of those who knew him.

Two ancient species, and they are the last ones of the ‘creation of the old’. Ki’enn and Mi’enn are plant-like creatures that can walk like humans and feed on primitive creatures such as sponges and coral reefs. They drank the magical waters of Virginia; Thus, giving them new features and gifts of magic.

Nonetheless, The creatures known as Ki'enn and Mi'enn are distinct from the Heynois and Sylvans who serve as guardians of the forests in Virginia. They are, in fact, much more ancient and primitive than Heynois and the Sylvans. These creatures were the very first to roam Virginia, and their origins are shrouded in mystery. In stark contrast, the Sylvans were born out of magic and were created to protect the forest and its inhabitants during times of war. They were brought to life by the 'Mother Forest' herself, who infused them with the purest and most rare magic that she could offer. Thus, they became the guardians of the forest, watching over the Virginians and keeping them safe from harm.

That is until Souma came along and annihilated Ki’enn and Mi’enn like insects and inferior creatures. Thus, ending the last ones of ‘creation of the old’.

Having no regard or decent amount of mercy for lives of others, That made Souma hated by Virginians and the good Jinns. And that resulted in his demise by Lucifer himself, his second-in-command.

Raqoul’s clenched his fists hard. He tightened them with such force that his nails dug into his palms and they started to bleed – yet he didn’t care at all, after long moments, He sighed with pure annoyance and exasperation.

As he cast one last look over the balcony, he made up his mind and stepped into the room, closing the balcony windows behind him.

For the first time in untold centuries, Raqoul is going under a flurry of uncontrolled emotions. Anger, Hatred, Sadness — and perhaps depression too?

He stood by the window's balcony, his hand trembling as it reached out to touch the cool, pristine glass. It was as if he was lost in a moment of reflection, his fingers tracing the surface as if trying to summon memories of a glorious past — like remembering his godfather's finest moments and achievements.

Unfortunately, his contemplation was abruptly shattered when heard a psychotic and deranged chuckle, It is his half-sister, Vamonessyia! appeared behind him.

Raqoul’s mood quickly changed from being quiet and serene to angry and wrathful. He quickly whipped his head to look at Vamonessyia who was smiling at him.

She stepped closer to him — glorious and glamours as ever, She stands tall, her lithe form accentuated by a figure-hugging, black and red bodysuit with a tulle skirt — Her long, pointy ears hint at her demonic origins – and her sharp fangs are slightly visible when she parts her lips. Her wings, resembling those of a bat, laid unfolded and down – Blood-red lips and blood-red eyes, She looks like as Vampirella, If she was more paler than she already is and bloodier too.

Raqoul screwed up his face when he looked at her “What do you want?” He sneered at her.

She faked a gasp as she heard him. “Is that how you treat your sister?” She spoke, her voice bore fake hurtful tones.

“Half-sister,” He corrected as he turned his back on her, Clearly not interested in having a conversation with her.

She shrugged at him “Whatever, I’m here to let you know that a little birdie told me that Lucifer want to burn Souma’s old castle.”

After hearing this, Raqoul quickly spun around and looked at her “WHAT? How- Why- Where did you hear this?”

She shrugged once again; her bloody-red eyes never leaving his. “I just said a little birdie told me.”

Raqoul narrowed his eyes at her. He doesn’t trust her in the slightest. “And why are you telling me?” He finally said.

“Well, I’m helping you today because in the future you will return the favour,” She told in her raspy and alluring tone. She sassily brushed her thick long raven hair.

He looked at her for a long moment then he sighed. “Whatever,” He crossed his arms.

She rolled her eyes at him then she spread her wings and flew away from him.

Finally! She left. Raqoul’s thought. She won’t keep pestering him like a mosquito. She is always there to annoy the living crap out of him. Sometimes, He wishes that she is gone — that she vanished out of thin air — like she was never born.

But she left a while ago and Raqoul sighed in satisfaction.

A woman, surrounded by the finest, most exquisitely decorated room stands before a giant mirror, smiling as she brushed her hair. The walls were a calming green that brought up the morale of an entire battalion, and the ceiling was lined with various lanterns that cast a comforting warm white light. A large desk of polished maple wood and a comfortable chair with soft sand-brown cushions sat to the side of the woman, giving her all the room she needed to enjoy herself. On the walls hung pieces of fine paintings of various people, probably family members, adding an extra depth to the room's atmosphere.

The woman hazelnut’s eyes sparkled with mischievousness as she surveyed her rectangular Green Emerald pendant that hung on her slender neck.

She let out a giggle as she traced her pendant as if she was feeling it powers then she let go of it afterwards; Her slender fingers touched the hair brush. She gently brushed her long, thick hair tresses.

Lost deep in her thoughts, she didn’t hear her mother’s voice calling from the other room until she heard a knock on her door. That, brought her to reality. She let go of the hairbrush and got to her feet to answer the door.

Her mother stood there, hands on her hips, impatiently tapping her feet on the floor. It was a clear display of annoyance, accompanied by a pout on her beautiful yet aged face.

“I have been calling you for a while for now!” She stated. Her tone is laden with annoyance and impatience.

She smiled at her mother. “Apologise, Mother, I was busy.”

Her mother, Salwa, rolled her eyes at her “You could’ve told me!”

She giggled. “My bad, Mother, won’t happen again.”

“I truly hope so, Novelyn,” Salwa uttered. “Also, Your brothers are coming today, So be ready to welcome them.”

Without uttering a single word; Her mother, she briskly walked towards the door and exited, leaving Novelyn in her behind. Novelyn rolled her eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and frustration, before casually making her way to her vanity desk to resume brushing her long, dark hair.

Novelyn sighed in pure annoyance. She resumed brushing her thick tresses with annoyance and jealousy, she brushed through her hair with nothing but pure resentment and jealousy. She gritted her teeth, anger and envy seething within.

The jealous woman brushes her hair not in a soothing manner, but rather with anger and resentment her strokes lacking the gentle motions typically associated with brushing her hair, rather she treats it roughly, even tearing out a few strands to relieve some of her anger and resentment. Her eyes are narrowed in jealousy as she watches herself in the mirror, her expression showing just how much she despises her brothers.

Engulfed by a virulent shade of emerald envy, she unleashed a feral snarl, the very essence of her jealousy and spite for her siblings reverberating through the room. With an agile bound, she rose, her hands transformed into instruments of rage. They descended upon the mirror with a tempest's fury, but the glass, crafted from the most resilient and exquisite materials, withstood her onslaught. In a fit of pique, her hairbrushes were sentenced to fly, banished to the room's farthest corner. It was more than a tantrum; it was a tempest within her soul, threatening to lay waste to her sanctuary.

She sighed in pure annoyance and threw her hairbrush away. she wearily slumped in the seat before her vanity, a silent witness to her earlier havoc. The remnants of her tumultuous 'redecorations' scattered about her.

"Why would I ruin myself?" she pondered aloud, a soft echo in the stillness. Her lips parted, a silent gasp hinting at words unspoken, thoughts unformed. "Why don’t I ruin their lives instead?”

Jealousy and envy, those twin serpents, slithered through her thoughts, leaving trails of poisonous intent. The seed of malice took root within her, blooming into a dark desire to inflict irrevocable ruin upon her brothers—a baleful curse, an enchantment of shadow, from which there would be no mending, no escape.

Aliyaa meandered through the verdant embrace of the ancient woods, her footsteps light upon the mossy earth. A melody, delicate and tender, escaped her lips, weaving a tranquil harmony with the rustling leaves. An errant bough, garbed in the vibrant green of spring, bowed low as if to crown her passage. With a gentle hand, she persuaded it aside and continued her enchanted stroll.

The forest around her seemed to breathe with ethereal grace, each fern and flower a silent witness to a tale of wonder and beauty. The canopy above filtered a sky awash with a soft azure glow, where clouds billowed like tufts of spun sugar, a feast for dreaming eyes.

Then, a voice—familiar and rich with the timbre of home—caressed her ears, a sound that had always been a bastion of happiness and safety.

It was her father's voice.

She gently looked behind her and saw him: Her father, Hadi Aepel, The man whose very presence was a balm to her soul. He stood, donned in white robes trimmed with gold and brown, a shepherd's hat resting atop of head. His shoulder-length hair, black as a raven's feathers, framed a face of smooth, fair-skinned —warm hazelnut eyes. His visage radiated a perennial handsomeness, a portrait of paternal affection.

"Aliyaa," he spoke, his voice a gentle invocation.

She looked at him with an innocent face "Yes, Father?"

He smiled brightly at her as he stepped closer "Have I told you today that I love you?"

She raised her chin gently and shook her head.

His hands, warm and reassuring, came to rest upon her shoulders. "Promise me, Aliyaa, that you will always remain true to yourself, and always be on the side of good."

"I promise, Daddy," she responded innocently.

Embraced in his arms, a soft gasp escaped her—a gasp of surprise and contentment, the embrace an unspoken pact of protection. Yet, as they parted, a sudden chill pricked at the edge of the moment.

Aliyaa's smile wavered — Her eyes as big as saucers — once a canvas of tranquillity, darkened in an instant. A tempest brewed at the horizon, its approach swift and menacing. Rain began to descend — a curtain of sorrow upon the scene.

In horror, she looked at her father. His face which always brought warmth and joy, was now a visage of night — eyes that once sparkled now wept a black ichor — the tears of a dark affliction. His figure, once a bastion of strength — now seemed to crumble before her.

"P-poisoned..." he rasped, his voice a hollow echo of despair, He desperately clawed at his chest as if he was trying to stop the pain. "My heart... poisoned."

There was no warmth in his tone. It was replaced by an unknown feeling to Aliyaa; The once warm and gentle tone is now cold and lifeless and devoid of emotion.

As he reached for her, desperately trying to grab her — Aliyaa recoiled and ran away. Her scream pierced the forest as the nightmare's grip tightened, and then—

Darkness.

Aliyaa jolted awake — her scream still echoing in the silence of her room. A deep breath filled her lungs as reality settled around her. It was just a nightmare, but the ominous foreshadowing of her father's fate lingered — a portent of trials to come.

She wanted to cry because she loves her father and the fear of losing him is unbearable. She cannot imagine her life without her father. Because, he is the only one who is showing her love, Her mother is… neglecting her lately.

Without him, She would be alone. And she’d miss his affection and warmth.

She began to pray to her god to protect and bliss her father’s life.

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deadghost12345 · 2 months

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Writers and editors! (And whoever else might know the answer!) I have a question!

Can you mention brands in an original book? Or like characters from another series?

Like not using the characters but having them be mentioned? And like as the made up character, not real.

Or like would you need permission to mention a brand/character?

Example: McDonald’s, Coca Cola, Spider-Man, Batman, etc.

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rrcraft-and-lore · 25 days

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Shakespeare was the pulp writer of his day (mad love here but be honest/real about it).

He put a fucking bear in a scene cuz someone paid him to.

You've probably seen that post floating around on off about the lit fic/creative writing teacher who poo-poo'd a student's love of Terry Pratchett (one of the greatest to ever play in this sphere) because he was a "pulp" writer.

Well, so was Shakespeare. And that's not a bad thing. But get off your high horse about it. The pulp writers shaped and defined the arts. You wouldn't have noir/detective stories like we do without Raymond Chandler, which means very likely, no urban fantasy in one of the most popular ways - like Dresden Files and all of the similar styles of that. Of course the genre is broader than that. Or cyberpunk in many ways, which is a SF evolution of the noir genre in many ways similar critiques done in a high tech world of corruption in govt/business levels, societal issues that the early noir also tackled and brought up, social inequality, all of that.

Christmas was redefined by a pulp writer, Charles Dickens.

Robert E. Howard was a pulp writer with Conan. How much did that do for Sword and Sorcery. And there are many more.

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poeticghostlywillow · 2 years

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Guilty!

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 11 months

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GAZETTE: So what would you tell your students?

GRAHAM: What I tell my students, when they feel singularly unfortunate to be born in this moment, is this is your moment, the moment your soul showed up incarnate. In this world. It is an astonishing moment to be alive. You could have been born into a lull — instead you were born into a tipping point. It’s your one life and you’ve entered it at a flexion point — a point when everything you do matters. How often in history does a soul get to live in such an era? Don’t waste it. Show up for it. With everything you’ve got. Some will invent, some will organize, some will witness, some will grieve, some will console. Live this life now. Even if in fury and grief, live it. You don’t want to die not having lived. It’s incredibly easy to find a way around experience rather than through it. But you will have cheated yourself out of your only possession: your life. You are here now. Now is the time to live fully, not hide, not escape.

[The Harvard Gazette :: ARTS :: Jorie Graham confronts past, present, and future]

#words and writing #writers and writing #Jorie Graham #interview #the future #advice #The Harvard Gazette

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thejournalofveronica · 2 months

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I'm a rebel

But not by choice.

I'm a rebel

Because I'm trapped

Everything I do will be no good

And I'm bound to do something

I'm not hesitant

I know the options

And I cross them out

Until the paper

Is a mess of ink lines.

Talk: wrong answer

Shut up: wrong answer

Keep it to myself: wrong answer

Stay still: wrong answer

Move to the right: wrong answer

Move to the left: wrong answer

Think about it: wrong answer

Do something: wrong answer

Wait: wrong answer

I am trapped

Surrounded by all the answers

Which I know will cause me pain

I am trapped

In a classroom

Facing an exam

Hating every choice I have.

What is the right answer?

There is no right answer.

I am bound to answer

And cause mischief.

I am forbidden

To do anything

And I'm bound

To do something.

I am bound to break the rules

I am bound to be a rebel

But not by choice.

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the-ellia-west · 1 month

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Food Themed Ask game 2.0!

🍄 Mushroom - What's the worst/most toxic relation your character has ever been in? What's the best?

🌽 Corn - Who's your POV or Most common POV?

🫐 Blueberry - What's one piece of dialogue that shows your character's personality?

🍏 Apple - What is your Character's favorite food and drink?

🍠 Yam - What is your character, when simplified to a single Trope?

🥨 Pretzel - Post a character Profile please?

🍷 Wine - How fucked up is your character on a scale of 1-Oh good God? And How do they deal with it?

🍞 Bread - What is your character's Motivation?

🍍 Pineapple - If Your character could steal one thing from a supermarket, what would they steal?

🥩 Meat - What is your character's (Murder) bodycount?

🍦 Ice-cream - How often is your character happy? Are they an Optimist or a Pessimist?

🥧 Pie - What is the sweetest thing your character has ever done for someone? Who was it? Why did they do it?

🍬 Candy - If your character had to choose a spouse in Stardew Valley, who would it be? If you don't know what stardew valley is, Give me a fun fact about your character.

@mk-writes-stuff @phoenixradiant @somethingclevermahogony @darkandstormydolls @latay7 @sunnyjustice @aestheic-writer18 @illarian-rambling @agirlandherquill @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @pastellbg @nkikio

Please ask me these as well :] - I would love it

Also, feel free to ask my side blog @jakkon-and-rose-topic too, I've got another ask game over there you can ask either of my blogs!

Thank you! (Also this is open to anyone to play and ask questions! Please use it!)

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thatunnamedwriter · 4 months

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I know you're busy I know you've prioritized better things that must be And I know I shouldn't be like this but I keep on waiting I keep on checking your last seen hoping you'll soon come I keep on re-reading our old chats to feel a lil happy again I keep on checking,after every five minutes,after half an hour, after waking up before sleeping while eating and what not.. I keep on checking for your last seen but sometimes no matter how hard my heart declines it.. I'm the last thing on your mind and you're the only all time in my mind I keep on saying I don't want anything then why I feel like this? I know you're busy I know you've prioritized better things that must be And I know I shouldn't be like this but I keep on waiting I keep on checking your last seen hoping you'll soon come I keep on re-reading our old chats to feel a lil happy again I keep on checking,after every five minutes,after half an hour, after waking up before sleeping while eating and what not.. I keep on checking for your last seen but sometimes no matter how hard my heart declines it.. I'm the last thing on your mind and you're the only all time in my mind I keep on saying I don't want anything then why I feel like this?

~Shambhavi Singh (via unsentlettersofaromantica)

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watermeloncholycucumbersome · 10 days

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Day 105 of Writing Something Everyday

(365 Day Challenge)

I keep smelling chemicals like chlorine,

I keep smelling the vinyl on a warm summers day and how the plastic would burn you if you weren't careful.

I remember the wet dogs - the smell of their fur, tongues hanging out the sides of their mouths huffing and puffing after running around and playing in the water all day.

I remember the smell of bathing suits and how the chlorine smell never washed out.

I remember the smell of coconut sunscreen and the way it never screened anything - it just smelt nice, smelt like summer I thought.

The smell of sand on a hot day, almost pungent but still bearable - comforting in a way strangely.

This all just started happening the other day.

Maybe it's because summer is coming up?

Maybe it's because it brings back nostalgia?

I don't know..

It's not necessarily bad memories, but it's not exactly memories needed right now when I'm alone.

I don't have faith or hope that my life will get any better or anything good will happen to me or for me.

When I'd lie on my back in that blow up pool in our backyard I felt like an adventure - the whole waiting and having any whimsy or anticipation whatsoever over my future.

I'm not sure if 13 year old me would like 31 year old me.

I never did anything on the time capsule list I said I wanted to do.

I thought I'd have my mom forever...

I'd have to tell little 13 year old me that her only and best friend would die and she'd have to traumatically watch this happen, not just on the day of her passing but for the rest of her life.

I don't have a boyfriend and never have, no family or friends, just alone and hoping someone arrives one day like a prince in a fairy tale to take me (the princess) away.

As a kid it's maybe tomorrow, then maybe next week, then maybe next month, then maybe next year until you're not even looking for love anymore and you haven't been keeping track.

Now when people show up I just feel like I'm being lied to and want them to just go and save the oxygen and brain cells they're going to use to fabricate what they tell me.

It's harder now as an adult, I can't see past my childhood and how I was then. Can't see that I'm not that girl anymore but sometimes I wish I could go back there to that time when I ate cereal and drank juice. Cartoons and colouring were life, lunches and suppers consisted of sandwiches and chips (possibly a slushee) and I was dying waiting to go back into the pool until I'd be called in later on that night.

To feel that water on my skin again, to hear those leaves on the trees rustle above my head, wondering if It was the wind, a squirrel or a cat moving the branch.

Boys climbing the fence to giggle at an 11 year old me in a bathing suit then running away when I noticed them.

There was a part of me as I drove under the water that giggled to myself as no one could hear but me.

Is it bad that I kind of miss that?

The innocence of thinking someone was cute, giggling and holding hands.

I wish I had experienced any of that completely and not half assed..

Being out in the pool when it started to rain that night, feeling bigger and better than I ever had.

Being out in the pool with you and wanting to kiss you so bad that night.

Staying up late with you to watch Titanic (both VHS tapes back to back) and NOT fall asleep. I can't remember who'd fallen asleep first?

Half happy because I didn't make it to the part where Jack dies - you would've seen me run away moments before that scene to cry alone because it made me so sad.

I remember being at that Christmas party, I was 6 and you were 7.

The adults had been calling us and they couldn't find us because we were under a blanket in the dark in a room (by ourselves)

You had been kissing my neck so much under that blanket my mom had to buy me turtle necks in every colour of the rainbow to cover up the shit load of hickey's you left on my neck..

I can't remember who found us but I remember the blanket being ripped off of us and lights in my eyes and lots of yelling.

I was the kindergarten trollup and I had no idea...Nor did anyone else. My mom made sure of that Lol

I don't believe that purgatory is a real place,

But I do believe we all have mini fun sized versions of it living in us.

Living in our brains..

We can't see it, touch it, taste it or hear it.

Yet somehow it's there?

It's so real that you can actually go there, but just in your mind's vehicle. Only we usually use it for negative places and get lost on memory lane.

I'm just in the passenger seat, just along for the drive but I hope we park soon.

Inside with my eyes closed I can smell the car, it's rented. The keychain around the rearview jangles lightly over the low music playing.

It smells like new air fresheners and I'm in my seat leaning back awkwardly like I'm in a nascar race - my back is hurting sitting like this for too long.

I'm not in control..

It's always night time when I'm here and I can never see the drivers face, just a light silhouette.

I've spoken about this before in the past too I think.

Everyone says they'll stay and not to worry, then they wonder why you have trust issues and are in the middle of a mental breakdown.

I know people are lying yet I allow them too having too much hope that maybe I'm wrong this time..

Then it happens again, proving me right again.

I even lowered my standards as I thought maybe I was just too choosey in picking friends, then people started coming to me and it was still all the same crap all over again.

No changes...

No surprises..

Nothing is new anymore and that's truly sad.

I have people around me now since my mom passed away and to me none of them are no more than acquaintances.

Nobody that I'd actually want to go for a coffee with.

Nobody I can just call up randomly because I want to, I have to be "squeezed" in or it has to be "arranged" leaving me feeling like I'm a burden.

It's just better to leave everyone alone...

I finally stood up for myself, I told the church lady that I didn't want her making plans for me and that church was in itself overwhelming for me that I'd add on things slowly down the road if I'd like to do I get used to everything slowly.

She got pissy and told me that "fine" she'd "not send me anything anymore" and I haven't heard anything from her in 3 days.

It was very childish and I can't deal with people who refuse to do anything other than what they choose to do.

I do not have to explain my grieving process to people who said "I know" a little too much in the beginning..

Shouldn't they know me then?

~Jenni

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