For everything, down to the scribbles.
Well, it happened. I picked a bad spot and the heavy rain started collecting on top of the tarp for ground cover, soaking through my tent and sleeping bag. I wasn't asleep yet, but I won't be tonight....[[|:-(
mid level enshitification of substack now complete... I'm not sharing a platform with the Tates fffs House moving days ahead
There is a beat on every street So loudly proud and profoundly evil A beat so at odds with that of the heart I can no longer hear the sound of mine breaking
Is it time for a midweek repost of my most recent post? The answer is yes. In the self-help section you will find The Pour Me Another Daiquiri, Where I try to stuff every kind Of nonsense, sham and quackery.
Soak, wash, rinse, dry, repeat
1 min read · Poetry, Humor
Don't forget, guys, you can just rip most fruits apart with your bare hands like a savage😌
Dwayne and Emily are investigating the murder when they are summoned to a meeting with a notorious mob leader.
“Doctor! Doctor! Can’t you see the world is burning burning…” Thompson Twins, probably
Apparently my April really is the month of Spring Cleaning. Maintenance. Upkeep. All of which I am terrible about. Put off, put off, then the actual doing takes a couple minutes. Duh. Addressing oxidation buildup on the 8-track. Probably need to squirt it around a few more knobs. Then the camera - discovered spots in pics, apparently dust on the sensor, ordered a cleaning kit (only about 5 years tardily), put it off another day but then today took extra notice of an apple blossom... nice pic it would be... be even nicer if you got your ass in gear and started using that cleaning kit. Oh and yes, the writing, must never let the writing wait and wonder, "hey what happened to that adventure we started?" Yeah yeah I know, got sidetracked (yes again, why are you surprised), and you should know by now you are hitched to the world's worst procrastinator. Hang on, hang on, getting to it, getting to it.
🦋 National Poetry Month🦋 Day 14 tetractys 1-2-3-4-10 A five line poem that builds in syllables 1–2–3–4–10, creating a quiet sense of expansion before settling into a longer, resonant final line. ▪◽▪ Mist drifts low through old stones over heather holding the hush as the pale dawn rises ▪◽▪
Ahead of the storm barefoot on the lawn we sang the rain down sweet upon our lips I remember the song and the wrong that I did you and I’m sorry for it Charlie
Are you talking incessantly about Wrizzit to your writer friends across the internet? Some of you don't even seem to want the head pat...
Chapter 1. Void
5 min read · Series, FictionOk, so the votes on interactive stories seem to be topping out at 5, so I'm going to start posting my next (VERY SHORT) section as soon as they have around 5 votes. That being said, if more people would interact with them that would be dope, please check it out! Mine is silly fun sci-fi with a female(ish) protagonist!
Barnes and noble just announced a 100 title limit for self published. And recently they upped payout to 25 from 10. And it looks like if they dont feel your book has made a sales minimum, they can take it down. The hell ಠ_ಠ ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ💢
