Just as soon as I have proof that my coworker gossiped about me, BOOM!!! 2 weeks notice and a call out tonight. Bitch!

See, evaluator? I’m not stupid. I passed your little course in no time flat! Now off to do another.

I don’t know if I’m the jealous type or not, considering all of my relationships before my partner were before I was a true human. I think I am though. Imagining my partner holding or kissing someone else disgusts and enrages me. He’d never cheat though. I know it. I’m not worried about that.

This cow has SEEN some shit.

Got dozens of flash cards done. Hand cramping. Unhappy.

One of my best traits: I feel things very strongly and therefore there’s no question where you stand with me. If I don’t like you, you’ll know it. Same is true of the opposite. If I like you, I’m ride or die. I’ll help hide a body, complete with pickaxe and shovel. Just ask my partner!

You know something? It’s not that I hate humanity as a whole. It’s that I hate the unique brand of arrogance Americans have trademarked. I hate how it even shows up in myself sometimes, despite my best efforts to be humble. That arrogance triggers a raw nerve that needs healing.

I was given condescending feedback on an assignment that basically boiled down to: “here’s a concise list of why I think you’re stupid.” I was super offended at the insinuation. It gave “here’s an encyclopedia of why I hate you” and, looking back on it, it’s hilarious and I gotta respect that.

My coworker tonight wants to leave at 10. Must be fucking nice to fuck out whenever it tickles the fancy. Meanwhile, I of course have to stay the whole 8 hours because she’s a lazy bitch.

I think my latest WIP will be more of a gothic novel than a typical cheesy romance. I seem to be repulsed with the conventional, but that’s what makes me a great writer. If only I could get a contract…sigh…

I really hate complaining. But I hate the injustice in the world even more.

I was so frustrated with my computer because it struggled to publish my newest book. That’s what I did instead of covering for my lazy ass coworker today. One thing’s for sure, I’ll never do anything nice for her again. She complained that she didn’t feel good. Guess what, bitch?

Well, let’s see if my newest book gets published. Dang, two books in approximately one year! On top of school and regular work? No wonder I’m tired! And I’m not even done with one WIP! Will I ever slow down?

I tried taking Howie to the grocery store in his service harness and he pooped in the store. Message received, Howie. You don’t have to be in the store anymore. He must like retirement. I was embarrassed for a bit, but I cleaned up most of it with my hoodie and threw it in the wash.

The narcissist is FREAKING GONE!!!!!

Song is totally not what I do when I think about my partner. 👀👀👀 youtu.be/SCOYqW5txEs?...

Mm! Rose flavored Turkish Delight is awesome. It’s my favorite flavor. $15 a box is expensive, but it’s SO worth it! I only have a few things I don’t like to eat, to be fair, but you know it’s good when even the residents here love it. They love trying new things.

Paedo alert👇posting and reposting pics of barely pubescent girls - certainly under 18 years of age. @photoscout.bsky.social

I had a spare Labubu from my Big Energy collection, so when one of my girls asked for one for her birthday I gave him to her. She’s totally obsessed with him. It’s adorable how much she’s fawning over him. His name is Jack, after me. Isn’t that the cutest thing?

I just heard the narcissist confirm that he delivers vehicles for ICE. I knew he was a fascist, but it doesn’t make the rage I feel any better.

If there’s one upside to the dumpster fire that is my “reproductive” - what an oxymoron - system, it’s that I’m unable to have any babies. And thank the universe for that. If this is what I deal with now, a full-term pregnancy and labor will be actual hell. All for a screaming heap of dirty diapers.

Finding a stringy bit of raw uterine lining and getting PTSD flashbacks of my miscarriages and the horrible rape I went through at 19 was NOT on my freaking bingo card for this month. Yet here I am, holding a booger like piece of my own uterus, extremely nauseous and hating my body for being wrong.

So apparently, according to the narcissist, he’s not going anywhere because the mechanics broke the bolts for repairs and the parts won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon. He’s lying. I know he is. Bolts don’t break that easily. It’s insulting to both of us that he thinks I buy that load of bupkis.

Chapter 14 is underway! Once I’m done typing it up, I’ll save two copies: one screenplay, one novella, and I’ll format them both as necessary. Then once I’m done formatting my novella I’ll publish it. So close already!!

Hey guys? What does it mean when you get a chunk of stringy period stuff that’s pinkish-grey after you hurt like hell? I read it was called a “decidual cast”, but I’d like to have someone who speaks layman to explain it to me. Because it looked like this: (Image isn’t mine, but it looks similar.)

My curls got tighter and, as a result, it’s turning into a lion’s mane. I look even more like my mom now. If only I had green eyes…sigh…

My partner is so goddamn funny it hurts! Literally, my ribs hurt from snickering at him being the funniest guy ever. I had no idea he was so funny when we first got together, but he’s really opened up since being with me and I love seeing it.

People make it really hard for me to be kind to them. Whatever. I’m 32 and done with trying to be kind to idiots, especially if they’re condescending and egotistical. Not worth my time. No one has to tolerate abuse, be it professional, domestic, or random strangers on the Internet.

Gaslighting piece of garbage says what?

Speaking of modern day philosophy: I have a philosophical question. If we put the pets of Olympic athletes at the finish lines, does that count as a performance enhancing drug?

I was reminded today just how powerful the Internet actually is. If Plato, Aristotle, and Confucius had the Internet, they’d be comment shit posters. I had to sit with that weight for a minute. In a way, the Internet is literature. Mind blowing, isn’t it?

The narcissist genuinely believes that if he wrote a book about his life he’d be rich. If I can’t get my writing career off the ground, he certainly can’t. I’m way more talented than he is and I’ve earned connections - and I still can’t get my career going! It’s delusional.

I’ve seen marriages with less commitment than what my partner and I have. We’re two very damaged people with inferiority complexes, but there’s genuine care between us. We do the best we can. What my partner does for me is unconventional, but it’s enough. I’m really, truly happy.

I love my partner with every fiber in my being. The one thing I wish I could help him understand is, I’m truly happy in our relationship. I wish I could get it through to him that he is enough to make me happy and stick around. But that’s part of who he is, and I love him irrevocably.

I knew it wouldn’t last. I’m not even shocked anymore. Disappointed yes, but it’s hardly the same thing. We almost had a good day and he had to fucking ruin it by being a condescending know-nothing about a medical drama he likes that I don’t even care about. It’s not me. No, it’s him.

Simone was in the narcissist’s spot on the couch, so he tried moving her. She took it personally and almost bit him. Then she was so offended she left the space. He told her she could sit down next to him and she gave him the most bombastic “are you fucking kidding me” look I’ve ever seen!

Wait? Could it be? The narcissist…THOUGHT about something? And didn’t just…fly off the handle?? He wasn’t totally embarrassing for once??!! Holy fuck! He proved me wrong for the first time in two fucking decades!! This is cause for celebration!

The writing urge likely comes from the fact that the narcissist doesn’t see me, that he wants me around to serve him, and I’m getting emotionally squashed left and right. It’s obvious I’m trying to make up for something else I lack. My partner’s terrific, so it’s not him.

Could it be true? Am I actually going to finish a project for once?? I’m so close to finishing up typing The Assassin’s Heart, which was the original idea for The Dance of Seasons and Stars. I’m already on Chapter 10 of 24 chapters! It’ll be at least a novella and a screenplay too.

I keep getting the advice to use a pseudonym. This IS my pseudonym! People, COME ON!!!! Why would I use my real name to write or be on social media? Think about it. I’m not narcissistic or stupid enough to use my real name. This is concerning. Seriously, I worry about the state of us all.

I forgot about how much Carl Hiaasen’s work impacted me in middle school, and he too wrote for adults. I’ve decided to do Wicked Wonders as a book series for middle schoolers. I was going to do it as a TV show, but I really believe that Wicked Wonders has a chance to stand out in the book world.

I’ve gnawed on the idea of turning Wicked Wonders into a book series targeted towards middle schoolers/pre-teen and tween age kids. My one issue is, I don’t want to be confined as a children’s writer. I want to write outside one set age group. But I also know Wicked Wonders is a really good idea.

Medical misogyny is a real thing. No obgyn listens to me about how much pain I’m in every month and I’m sick of the throbbing pain in my ovaries every month. The dysphoria I experience when I bleed makes me want to puke. And yet if I dare complain about it, I’m called crazy and misogynistic.

Another one of my favorite Tweeples converted to Bluesky! Just followed them again.

🧵 The story of #HenriettaLacks is a must read. Lacks went to Johns Hopkins because she felt a "knot" in her womb. She had previously told her cousins about the "knot" and they assumed correctly that she was pregnant. #SheShed #Pinks #HenriettaLacks #BlackHistoryMonth

Today counts as Valentine’s Day. To my darling partner: I love you with everything I have. Inside and out, every part of me that isn’t inherently repulsive is out and proud because you inspire me to not just be a decent man, but a good one. Because you are too, even if you can’t believe me.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Please expect a sappy lovey dovey message from me. Thank you for your patience.

So I calmly informed the gossipy coworker of what I heard. Allegedly. What she said sounds good on paper and I agree with what she said. I dunno, I don’t think I should bring it up to our boss yet. I don’t have any solid proof that she did it, and yeah, it did seem off. That’s true.

Literally on my post about how much I hate my father. Don’t trust this fucker. They spread misinformation, particularly about the Obamas.

Don’t believe everything people post, my friends.