writing, writing, writing. burning matches to keep myself warm. not frozen yet. still burning the hearths of the mind. still warm. still fighting.

*screams in autism* some one please end the STIMULATION. I can't fking take all the SENSORY INPUT. my brain is DYING from being TOUCHED.

at least in my writing I can make people be reasonable, kind, and wise. that's something.

just lighting matches to keep the cold at bay

me: wow, someone should really meditate this situation.
life: congratulations, you are now a mediator.
me: wait, no, I'm an idiot.

like the Little Match Girl before me, I am writing stories to keep myself warm. We'll find out if I am found frozen to death eventually.

all the fires, the rise of fascism, the rampant misogyny, the end stage capitalism - all makes me want to double down hard on my Hope In Darkness philosophy. they can pry this tiny light from my cold dead hands.

my first post. I am a disabled woman in Canada, doing my best to raise a child in the apocalypse. I write terrible fanfics for Dragon Age that I don't share, but I do like sharing the writing process and my joy over it. I have been writing 6 months and never been happier. Yay creativity.

Trying always