Jenny H @lambdagrrl@witches.town

a lot of TV makes me feel nihilistic these days

comparing freud with other philosophers is sex with one and half a dozen with your mother

If you want to be a bird you can just be a bird.

Every minute of every hour of every day of your life, you've been followed by birds. When you were young, you didn't realise: you just thought that the sparrow at school was obviously not the same as the sparrow at home, because why would it be? But as you've gotten older and more observant you can see that whenever you see a sparrow, that strange white splodge on the left shoulder is exactly the same shape. There are other birds, too: owls, pigeons and gulls dog your every step. The incessant birdsong keeps you awake at night.

One day, one of the birds lands on your shoulder and whispers in your ear: "You are one of us". And at once, you are free.

out there in the cold, getting lonely getting old, can you feel me?

with your face on the nightclub flyer
and the font that distorts your name

you're cool

So for my story I just wrote the preamble to a political manifesto and now I feel dirty

waiting for the revolutionaries to expropriate me

*hides from critique*

So here's the story I've been working on: https://thunderandherbs.co.uk/prose/penny

It's about magic and trans kids.

In the next chapter of the story I'm working on there's gonna be a lot of exposition, and I'm not sure how to handle that. I'm tempted to make it one big monologue just to draw attention to it.

guy on TV who's gone to antarctica: "I miss Tinder"

watch two hapless brothers and their elderly relative investigate the physics of food substitutes in: Only Huel and Forces

watch a hapless pair of brothers and their elderly relative try to invent the telegraph in: Only Fools and Morses

and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on...

eternal panic of the anxious mind

help my new punk band's name, "Pressure Release Valve", is a critique of punk itself

events are so dense these days that I'm tempted to rewrite We Didn't Start The Fire but with each couplet being a /month/ rather than a year