Tried to shoot two rolls of my mystery film and give it a shot at working. It... kinda did? Turns out it's tri-x that's at least 30 years old, very likely more than that. It's not great, but it's not nothing. At least.

Had a fun opportunity randomly present itself.

It’s nice here.

For any who stumble upon this and have a free moment, I strongly suggest you give that moment to listening to this. youtu.be/Greffl1UVYc?...

Here you go, photos from a fur meet. I think. Not sure when, or where, but I know this roll was old enough to have a pretty good base fog going. But proof that I'm a real furry and exist and have not been lying about it this whole time. @steelclawfox I think?

“Grew up thinking that I had it made, gonna make it on my own. Life can take the strongest man, make him feel so alone.”

I haven’t posted anything in an eternity. Here’s something I’m not embarrassed of.

"Heaven knows I miss my late night living! They're getting along with out me, as far as I can tell." I miss college, but I value the semi-responsible person I've become more than the committed loser I once was.

There’s something that I really enjoy about both the avali and pooltoy design language, and it’s comforting to me in a way I haven’t felt since I first found VRC. Because Avali are imaginary and the pooltoy aesthetic is so loose, it really feels like it can look any way you like without losing feel.

The problem standing in the way of my continuing understanding of art is that I’m about as creative as a brick wall and nearly as dense. Well, and that while I have perfectly adequate hand-eye coordination, my hand-brain coordination seems to be lacking the latter component.

"I'll sail on with only the love you condemn- having offered up your weak heart for a safe trip home."

What if you’re wrong? Is it all your fault? Has it been too long? Is this all for naught? Are you so far gone That you can’t get caught? And what if you’re wrong? ‘Cause you might be

I’ll be honest I hate Halloween BUT I LOVE THIS EXCITEMENT LETS MAKE TODAY COUNT

Rye thoughts aren't good thoughts, boys...

Disregard that last post. I hate avalis. They disgust me. But in like a loving way

God I love avalis. They are bastards and I hate them.

I desire to once again write funny rants about nothing merely for the sake of it, but I think I’ve forgotten how to sit in front of a computer and manifest the most interesting fascination of nothing I currently have. Perhaps I need to practice.

Some minor self-psychological speculation for all y'all today: The more I feel the need to individuate myself at work, feeling that my efforts are less noticed and respected, the more I lean into the pooltoy mindset in my brief online periods. The intentional brain-off time at least feels helpful.

Pool. Toy

I feel that I’ve become a wholly different person lately, and where I’m used to feeling that negatively, it’s more neutral than I expected. While I would say I’m on the whole deeply unsatisfied, pulling myself forward while treading water, I don’t know how much of that is my graduation adaptation.

I wish I had something insightful to say but I can barely work up the energy to write, and when I do my mind is running from stressful thoughts be refusing to remain focused. It’s automatic and frustrating, and I really need to get off my rear and get past this block with a counselor.

I’m gonna be 100, I miss when my Bluesky was all porn. Yes it’s inconvenient to open in public, but it made me feel cheerful and connected. Now it’s back to what Twitter was for me. Bad news and leftists I don’t know shouting about how bad it is. Even if I agree, it’s killed my joy for the platform.

I have a book reading queue of about 15. Several in the 800 page range. My eyes are bigger than… my eyes.

The more I learn the more I realize how unique and impressive a portrayal of detachment and paranoia the Naked Lunch film is. The book was first, yes, but the film makes it graphic to a whole new degree and does it in such a short time span.

I think that, if I try hard and stick to a good schedule, I can give myself a webinar fetish by July.

My mind often wanders, and that I can tolerate. But the rumination, the background noise, the same short snippets of memory looping tell me that despite my best self assurances relaxation is not itself sufficient to get me past what has happened. I will learn eventually.

“I am just a student, sir, and I only want to learn. But it’s hard to read through the rising smoke from the books you like to burn.”

Love you all. This world can suck sometimes. Safety is the bare minimum but I will settle for it. Stay safe, please.

Goddamnit.

Dear god

Today’s inconsequential opinion is that the 1993 version of Gypsy is actually quite good and I think Bette Middler’s overreaction makes perfect sense.

Just a few thoughts I wished to put down. docs.google.com/document/d/e...

And, for what it’s worth, I do not by any means hate Derrida, in fact I find his insight on some things extremely valuable. It’s just that for linguistics and especially linguistic determinism I find Chomsky and Postman to be both better advocates and critics even though both of them are also dorks

Against my will and best interests, I have been engaging more with philosophy, and have come upon the inevitable quandary of on occasion having no more specific way to phrase a criticism than “Derrida is a fucking dork”

I wish to be durable, yes, but ergonomic and so easily repairable that no one feels guilt for breaking any part of me. That’s my transhumanist fantasy: to be so trivial to make whole that anyone can be rough without hurting me, and we can laugh off any damage. Take THAT, psychologists.

I love all of you so much. I’m so sad there are still people I want in my life who refuse to move to this venue, it’s better here.

I obviously spend too much time thinking about song lyrics, but they stick in my head. Right now the words I can’t shake are, “If you can’t but do well by a phantom future, you’re destined to dwell and weep and gnash your teeth with all the rightly drowned.”

“And we will sing the warrior’s song and lift the praise of murder And Christ will be our darling and fear will be our name.”

In a world where your people are declared to be delusional, the enemy, defense of others is defense of self. We must protect eachother, get justice for eachother, and fight in the name of eachother, because alone we have no hope and we will be stomped out.

I want to thank my wonderful boyfriend @houstonfox.taidum.org for painting my hopper. With all upgrades installed, I’m extremely happy with this marker. A couple more cosmetic things will come in later, but functionally I can’t see how this isn’t perfect.

It is real tummy hurting hours.

Anger is a powerful thing, and I spent many years letting it control me before I got it under check. Lately it seems it’s had more hold than it used to, which saddens me. But after it comes the only more powerful feeling for me, regret. I get the sense I’m not alone in that, right now.

Hehehehe pooltoy thighs

Anything Goes is deeply stuck in my head.

For all the problems with the A Chorus Line movie, I do think the ending scene of One is essentially flawless. The camera work, the lighting, and especially the audio blending is just so masterful.

I’m sorry to be a bit all over the place lately. I miss all the people I haven’t been seeing, but I’ve had less than a clear head in recent times and I’ll be much more enjoyable to be around now that I’ve gotten most of that out of my system. I’ll see you all soon.

“For I will sour the winds on high And I will soil the river And I will burn the grain in the field And I will be your mother And I will go to ravage and kill And I will go to plunder And I will take a Fury to wife And I will be your father And death will be our darling And fear will be our name.”

So I got a book from the secondhand store today, only off of the cover. I’m just looking at it now and this was one of the best choices I’ve ever made. I give you The Big Cats, a book or Guy Coheleach paintings with information on all of the cats featured. This is my ideal of coffee table books.

Love all yall. Even if it means accidentally looking at porn in Publix.

The more time passes, the less I wish to retain agency. I make decisions and those decisions bring with them the consequences of failure regardless of what I chose, and I think I’d rather take comfort in knowing the choice was out of my hands, as so many falsely do, than retain the illusion of it.