byhappenstance.bsky.social
¦¦ Scottish Bi-Ace ¦¦ Marble Statue Polar Bear ¦¦ NB/Trans (Femme To Be) ¦¦ Some NSFW inside ¦¦ Undergoing Metamorphosis ¦¦ Compliant 🔞
662 posts
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206 following
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Feel free to reach out to me on Telegram or Discord (@byhappenstance) if you're interested.
My readings are free, I just have this up in case people are interested in tipping.
Saving up to get my own place and help a close trans friend get to safety out of the USA.
See you when I see you <3
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I can't believe of all people I'm the one who feels the need to stifle passion and investing myself into other people and things.
My passion was my defining trait for a long time. How did that burn out? Can I reclaim it?
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I need to find a way to heal that I can do on my own.
There's so much of me missing now from who I was and I refuse to make it others concern anymore.
Especially after recent self discoveries.
I've been too willing to be someone driven by passion for too long. I burned out of it. That sucks!
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Just a little bit of writing I did to help me explore some of my past trauma.
I've been coming to terms with more of the things that happened to me. Things I've changed about myself, things that changed me. It's interesting!
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Verse B
Now I’ve been abandoned, alone
And I don’t know who I am myself
What did my heart become
Once it was deserted on a shelf
I’ve been shipwrecked and abandoned
A misbegotten idea, a discarded union band
My life, my way, my universe have become
Buried in The Amper Sand.
#poem
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Yes please :)
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Maybe I'm just out of touch. It's been a long time since I've been able to play!
I do really want that in person experience, as great as the online stuff is these days.
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Yeah, same. Reddit, OF, Social Follows, Porn Site searches... Those feel like that would be actually representative of our culture.
The thing I first posted though works both ways. It does show that Red States are feasting on T-centric adult media... It just skips that Blue ones kinda dig it too.
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I'd bet it slaps. You should come to my house to make it.
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Here me out though... A battenburg cross section like this with a mustard glaze using ground beef and Cumberland sausage.
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Like... They are taking the data from searches into Google...
I don't know a single person who just raw types "[Slur] porn" into Google. I know where I want to see that content and I go direct.
Not to defend it or counter their point... But it's not taking cultural standards into account.
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The thing with things like this is it's not what is or isn't a slur that matters, it's what that area perceives as a slur. Because social culture moves so slow in conservative USA they don't realise the world next to them has moved on.
The source of the searches will also be affected by this.
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This soul, this ship...
It looks like everything is ok on the outside. People remember its great trips and stories... But ultimately it's gone. Something weakened is in its place. The original pieces are lost and the original architect is long since dead.
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They try to stock the bow, but it's too much to bear.
They try to move on, but the anchor has been trapped in the bay.
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This ship looks like the one it used to be. Repairs have made it look like it works, but something is missing.
The crew can feel it. It doesn't handle the same. It feels less steady. The crew have become very wary.
They refuse to let others on board, lest they too damage the ship.
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Another thing I wrote about was a damaged human soul as an allegory for the Ship of Theseus.
Life chipped away at it with loss, heartache, betrayals.
It gets patched up with friends, new love and dreams.
This boat can only swim on troubled waters now, however. Its navigation can never be mended.
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So whose memory is it to own?
The month my life crashed at my feet is a blur to me. That moment in time.
We've both thrown it away in different ways.
Is there a fate or power that collects it?
I like to think some mystic force of nature took this moment in time and keeps it like a sad painting.
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It was a way to write about my experience as a domestic abuse survivor.
I still don't clearly remember the week she told me it was over. It's not my memory.
But for her, she didn't think she was harming me. She was just done. She denied her actions and painted it new. It's not her memory.
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I have an album based on this idea I fell in love with. It's about the concept of who owns your memories.
The lead piece from it is called "Our last moment is not yours nor mine."
It touches on how a messy break up will never be true in the memory of either party.
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billy 😳
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How I feel about implied settings.
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Thank you <3
I keep seeing them, smiling wide, remembering I have sore cheeks from getting holes bunched into them... Then I laugh because I'm an idiot and I did something stupid... repeat.
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I WISH I WAS A COMET
BURNING UP IN TO THE NIGHT
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Hmm... 👀
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Ahhh!
As someone who uses a marble statue as a 'sona I love this so much!
Lovely work!
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I was allowed to run an event at a convention yesterday to introduce people to Tarot.
I didn't expect much traction from it but what actually happened was the room was so full we had to turn people away.
After the talk was done, people were coming up to me and really praising it.
I cried 😅