Thought Vomit

"I haven't been HERE in a while...!" the blogger said with the joyful awe you can only get by visiting an old, familiar place. She decided to dust the shelves and start writing.

Lately all I've been drawing are Neopets. It is silly how much these made-up creatures mean to me. I love them.
Phinble and Saaburu. The effortless painted-no-shading-black-outline style is wonderful.

My boyfriend and I's small business is now a legitimate business with a legitimate website. Much work is ahead for us.

Speaking of Stark, things are hard for him. Somehow I feel that my easy-ass life thus far has put me in a great position to help him. What I mean to say is that I feel like this moment, this beautiful human being, is my reason for being here. His hard life balances my one that I've coasted through. I, being the stronger person (in some aspects), will support him. I see his potential. I see the fire in his eyes. I love him and will help him always. Feeling this way feels like being alive.

Here are some random tidbits from my new "Random Poetic Thoughts Journal". I often have little poetic rantings or bouts of colorful language. I decided to buy a journal to write them down in.
"It's one of those futile feelings. When you're searching for something, even though your rational brain knows where you left it and that is isn't there. Your hands still sift through your pockets, purse, backpack. Maybe it's just the principal of the thing. You feel like you need to look for it anyway due to its importance. Such is the stubbornness of the human habit. "

"Someone honked at me while I was driving today. It was dark, raining, the light was red, I stopped to look to turn right. There it was: a car's horn behind me. Distant and cruel, something that demands angry attention. Car horns were designed for letting other cars know about potentially dangerous things... 'Don't back into me,' 'stop', 'watch out'. But we have turned them into on-road, language-less curses... Angry and anonymous yelling. Whenever I hear a car's horn, my mind snaps into frantic and guilty thoughts. What did I do wrong? Am I not doing what I'm supposed to? Even if the noise wasn't meant for me, it gets me on edge. That person had an ISSUE with me. After that, my mind tricks me into thinking everyone's got a bone to pick with me. The man sitting in the parking lot booth is displeased with the speed I'm going. The person parked next to me thinks I am too close. Right here: the embodiment of a common paranoia. I hate driving. "

"The sound of rain is absolutely different every moment you hear it. Technically, every drop is different and hits a different spot on the ground, the plants, the umbrellas, the cars... So it should logically make its own special sound. The really beautiful thing about it is that it doesn't."

I hope you got something out of them. :)
Be safe everyone.