pov: you're playing with the idea of writing mechsplo but you're not that media-literate and anxious about writing superficial drivel honestly the discussion/perspectives commented give food for thought/research to do better but i also feel more anxious about being annoying and vacuous with it now

not sure how to feel about my drive to make music being reignited by singing and producing a WARHOUND themed 'we are charlie kirk' cover but whatever keeps the channel open i suppose

practicing singing rebel songs while out on a run to emulate the ragged exasperated breath of an exhausted pilot desperately trying to keep the morale of the squad high as they prepare to face overwhelming imperial firepower with the mech-equivalent of shitbox pickups with roof-mounted machine guns

going for a run for the first time in like two years cause i will not neglect this vessel any longer praise me pretty please

brain, none more of this silly loathing and pitybaiting. be a vessel for the becoming of beauty of truth or become part of soil. believe you me, me. you can do the be to be the do. existing begets becoming even without doing. so you might as well keep doing to keep being. do i make sense? i hope not

stop trying to talk smart and talk fast instead it's a lot more honest really. i mean write smart. write fast hit post don't think. only happy or horny or curious thoughts.

the allure of the sensual haughty feline brat is superseded by the pliant whimsy of the needy adoring pup. going through this metamorphosis and calling it neko-death. i lay down my mass manufactured dangly-bell and ribbon-bow adorned kitty ears to rest. i am no solitary predator. i yearn for a pack.

From a GirlFrame PBP. As soon as Handler ordered her to arm it, the Frame's gorgon-tech powered emotional relay bombards her with the cumulative suffering of a besieged colony's worth of civilians, combatants and Pilots subjected to the assault of a simultaneous rebel uprising and a Void incursion.

the names she gave to every member of her mountain of plushies the glint in her eyes peeking from behind the mountainous pleats of the covers the patterns you traced across her skin with the gentlest touch the painted strokes of sorrow in her eyes what she smelled like when you hugged goodbye

when you think you're freaky for a monster girl with an ovipositor but rather than depositing a pleasant amount of orbeez-sized eggs into your ass with a squishy rod she painfully stabs you in the thigh with a stinger leaving a million tiny ones to hatch and crawl out from right underneath your skin

The thing about learning is that you often have to make the same mistake multiple times to truly learn the lesson. Rather than feeling the guilt and shame of repeating past mistakes you have to identify them as opportunities to deliberately practice.

there's an eternal urge to wannabe. wannabe a person worth wanting to be. who works hard and with autonomy and lets their talents flourish and cherishes the present moment and picks at the facade on the surface to expose a deeper truth within and loves unconditionally and thinks deeply and notices

this is an attempt at fostering an inner world and allowing thoughts to bloom in a way that flexes the muscle of imagination which i fear has atrophied. it is shameless journalling into the void. it is not meant for anybody. if you're reading how did you get here. i like it when you watch

i am going to do stream of consciousness writing here and only post when the stuff that comes out is not self-deprecating which will likely mean unhinged word soup, convoluted attempts at talking my way through a funny thought or kinky fantasies that have no business being articulated so haphazardly

I suppose you're not doing the bluesky thing right if you're just doomscrolling but now it's enviously yearning after tenacious unashamed transwomen making the best of their lives through sheer force of will and a dash of depravity.

thinking about eudaimonia.. reporter investigates a sci-fi penitentiary system that latex-droneifies prisoners by getting admitted herself. suits equipped with a brain-integrated custodian that stops her from communicating with her partner on the outside and ends up becoming both her alter and lover

there was a german guy on fetlife precision engineering a kind of in-mouth ring gag that goes between your teeth and forces your mouth open with a tiny vice-like screw mechanism and i got as far as him sending me a quote before i pussied out and i still regret it to this day

yes im the freak thats been hitting save on every post i like i dont know why im doing it but i cant stop

Any advice/experiences on embracing self-love and breaking a cycle of self-sabotage?

sorry martha graham i try to keep the channel open but it so hard not to self-annihalate daily by consuming the convenient curated hyperreality fine-tuned to my unique addictive profile like pouring concrete down my own throat someone pls chain me in a basement with nothing but books and instruments