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wanderinghil.bsky.social
hil
@wanderinghil.bsky.social
450 followers 930 following 650 posts
queer autistic poet. Chronic illness + memory loss, so please be patient. Currently writing about food and trauma. Always Dropout, ttrpgs, and audiodramas. (they/he)
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wanderinghil.bsky.social
I'm staying with friends because of, ya know, homelessness. And every time I go from one room to another, the Inspectors come to question me about my intentions. At least I'm never lonely.

(Third, less nosy dog not pictured.)
Two smallish dogs (some kind of terrier?) stand in a foyer looking at the photographer intently. The left one is gray/black and very scruffy, while the right one is black with white accents.
September 3, 2025 at 6:26 PM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
I am once again eating sweet potatoes, lentils, and rice lazily cooked in one pot. Because I am poor and tired.
Close-up of a bowl of yellow-orange sweet potato, lentil, and rice stuff. A lemoncello LaCroix lurks in the background.
September 2, 2025 at 10:03 PM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
You said "I've seen how this ends. They haven't." You followed up talking about your personal gay history and how that informs this opinion.

I don't know how else to take that than that you are making a statement that trans people don't know (haven't seen) because they don't share that history.
August 19, 2025 at 11:08 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
Look, they're an ace weirdo who gets in over his head socially all the time, and made weird mouth noises, licked cave walls, and had rock friends as a kid.

(I don't think Omar actually uses bsky so it's safe to yell about Andhera w/o giving away I'm not over my obsession.)
Prince Andhera from Dimension 20's A Court of Fey and flowers. A tall thin elfin figure with purple-ish brown skin, red eyes, pointy ears, and black hair wearing an intricate robe and standing on a beach. Flowers frame the outside of the pic.
January 17, 2025 at 6:19 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
Today's podcast fan poem spam is @thecellarletters.bsky.social
you stop growing, I think, like a goldfish, when you can’t swim your way any further than the corner, can’t speak to anyone about what you’re feeling because the words change on your tongue, twist into something else you didn’t want to say. you stop knowing, I think, who exactly you are, when you can’t count on your own history to sit still, watch it transform, settle, transform again, the friend who shrinks to the video game ghost, the lover who isn’t, and the father, the father. you stop hearing, I think, after so many strange sounds, so much weirdness in your tiny world, stop being able to parse the details, grasp at straws for anything to make any kind of sense, hold close any being you can get to listen to you, even a bug who you’re pretty sure shouldn’t be alive. but you don’t stop seeking, even if it’s hard, even if it’s frantic and desperate, even if you’re maybe trusting the wrong person or not trusting your own intuition - or can’t - even if you’re clutching at a letter from a loved one that shouldn’t have been able to be there, or the letters from strangers, or the memory of a woman in your arms that the world says can’t have existed. because in the end, maybe that’s who you are, just that jerky inconsistent desperate plodding forward, in the face of everything.
January 16, 2025 at 4:22 PM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
post a chosen one ✨

has anyone done this joke yet?
Gilear Faeth from Dimension 20's Fantasy High. He's an elf with pale skin, a paunchy belly in a stained button-up and shorts, socks with sandals, with a stubbled chin and a defeated expression. His hair is blond and getting a bit sparse. He slumps in front of a navy/blue-green triangle patterned background.
January 15, 2025 at 4:07 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
Forgot to report back on this! It's very good! I had fun with the responses to being possessed, and (per usual) wrote a little fan poem.

(caveat: I don't yet know much about the character's experience of transness and am mostly working from my own, but relating it to the possession was fun.)
you try to make it work. the truth is, your body has always been at odds with something within you, you’ve always had to “make things work” inside yourself and in the world. you’ve always walked a delicate balance between one world and another, between what can be seen and what can’t. you’ve always had to live this way: fighting for control of the narrative, speaking the truth when it is neither easy nor wanted. so? what more is it to say there’s someone else inside me, and to make her welcome the best you can with what you have? what more is it to add one more life to the many you are living, have lived, will live, in a world that splits you into pieces to categorize? you will be soft in a world that may not always be soft to you even as you fight to survive and it will have to be enough.
January 3, 2025 at 8:21 PM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
Played this game today! Would recommend, as the Wretched & Alone system works brilliantly for the creeping dread and paranoia of the witch trials. And because I only know how to poem, have this little thing about my poor witch:
I could have lived. I could have trusted no one, saved no one, believed in no one, and lived. I could have spoken your name on the wind in the night, and let it be the only truth to come from my lips. I could have kept every hex meant to protect the innocent buried deep in my soul like the jars buried in the soil around my now-burned cottage. I could have sent my neighbor to the gallows, my sister, the childhood friend I loved too well - and danced alone by the stream for the rest of my life. I could have buried every implement, salted the earth with the power I’d been given. I could have lived, but I loved too well - and could never let the breath go out of a child, or a young mother, never let a field lie fallow that could feed a mouth. Enough. The time for regrets has come and gone. I ask for no mercy, not because my soul is stained or signed away, but because I no longer know that we are capable of such a thing. I could have lived, but it would have been as someone else.
December 26, 2024 at 1:34 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
I barely remember my name and can't tell you what happened yesterday but I sure do remember some childhood arcade game EVERY TIME I GET HUNGRY.
Gif that changes between "warrior, Valkyrie, elf, and wizard" on the top line and continues "needs food badly"
December 10, 2024 at 3:51 PM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
Autistic social event coping mechanism: if I wear enough merch, someone will ask me about my special interests! Works almost every time.

Pins from a variety of poets, pods, and actual plays. T-shirt is #DesiQuest.
Chubby rosy-cheeked nonbinary person with short salt-and-pepper hair wearing a burgundy tee with blue mandala pattern and a denim jacket covered in pins and patches. + Rectangular black glasses and a broom earring. Sorry if my alt text isn't perfect, I struggle with images myself!
December 6, 2024 at 12:10 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
I don't use Spotify enough for that wrapped to be useful, but here's my pocketcast top 5:

I recently relistened to a ton of Magnus and all of Grotto, and the other three are on my "always catch up first" list.

(Next goal: be brave and revisit syntax)
a top five podcast list on a weird yellow-green background. 1. The Magnus Archives by Rusty Quill 2. The Grotto by Athan 3. Tell No Tales by Wasting Company Time Productions 4. Old Gods of Appalachia by DeepNerd Media 5. The Liminal Lands by Wayman Alexander
December 5, 2024 at 4:13 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
Didn't manage to finish this last night for the anniversary, but here's a little fan poem for @thegrottopod.com . (spoilers, obviously)
one world ends and another begins with a crash, with a bang, with steel and glass shatter, the before and after of you and I, hope dissolving into grief and guilt, which smears into madness and sacrifice, blood on the walls of a cave, in the water, in my mouth as I bite off your name into the darkness, again and again. what new love could live in this cage could survive stepping into this world still haunted with my wrongs, my reaching, this song weaving through each day and night that sings only of you, of wanting, of needing to hold again what once was a world unto itself, our existence in tatters? but what is lost cannot be reclaimed it seems because one world ends and another begins with a crash, with a bang, with steel and glass shatter, as you, recalled into this place where you no longer have a home, reclaim yourself from my grasp, from the reaching, the holding, the desperate clawing of what once had been, from the grief and the guilt, from everything that is not inside your own body, and the blood of sacrifice runs filling the caves, the water, my mouth, as it calls your name if only inside the cavern of itself.
December 2, 2024 at 6:42 PM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
I have a bloody-but-funny comics page as my tablet lockscreen, but I never expected anyone to see it.

Normie friend who moved my tablet to sit down: WTF IS THAT EVEN FROM? Why are all your interests weird?

rofl.
Panels 1-3: closeups of Number 5 from The Umbrella Academy, a dark-haired boy in a suit, covered in blood. Text: I am the jungle and I am too fast for you. You have teeth and stripes and things that tear. But I am much too fast... you want my flesh, but you don't know where the jungle is... only I know what the jungle is... only I know... Panels 4 and 5 pan out to show carnage. There are blood-covered bodies dressed in identical yellow-and-black protective gear and gas masks sprawled over cars and the ground. Number 5 stands in the middle with a gun. Text: I am a gazelle. I AM A GAZELLE AND THE JUNGLE IS MY HOME!
November 30, 2024 at 9:43 PM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
I mean...
Your Result: Queercoded Everyone sees how you look at your best friend. Everyone sees the way all your icons are queer. Everyone sees the way you dress. Everyone sees your lack of proper love interest. Well, except for Reddit, but what can you do, really?
October 30, 2024 at 3:01 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
Fried Chicken
October 26, 2024 at 12:03 AM
wanderinghil.bsky.social
I performed a piece about this in a local show and compared trying to recognize someone to an equation: adding up familiar elements of movement, posture, and clothing. And my favorite:
How I loved the partner who always wore copper coils in their beard, the ladies who adorn themselves with a certain type of scarf, eccentric earrings, the boys and the butches with the same jacket or tee for a decade or more. How easy they make the math.
October 23, 2024 at 11:33 PM