Post by Grayell on May 27, 2023 23:53:35 GMT -5
Firstly - I am astounded this place still works. I haven't been to this site on a pc in a long time and only a handful of times on a phone. I know the photobucket attacked is no longer hosting images (they've been contacting me for months about it). But the fact that so much still works speaks volumes to the members who helped me with and tolerated my foray into HTML and such. The aesthetic makes me smile. The Gary Chalk images that change out will forever be my favourites.
So. What's up Gray?
I don't presume to think that anyone is asking, or will even see this.
It's complicated. I'm 47 this year - I think, because my meds make my brain very muddy. My memory is unreliable at best. I don't/can't work anymore because I have a confounding chronic pain disability that as yet, still hasn't quite been diagnosed. It's tiresome. Most days are manageable. Some aren't. Some are, very rarely, fine. I don't get out much. My partner works (she's a workaholic and kicks ass) and I look after our home. We don't have or want kids, but ended up taking in her niece because her home life wasn't what I would call safe. A 12 year old in my care. Oh dear.
I don't really have any real life friends. A couple. I see them rarely. I've lost my knack (did I ever have one?) for making friends online. I reach out, I get little back, it seems communication has changed a lot. That hasn't been helped by the constant assholes online. My medication is pretty serious. It hampers my ability to do a lot, but keeps the pain down. I'm scared of ever not being able to get it any longer. It's not an addiction issue, just missing a day is horrifying - the pain comes on very quickly. I have to be cautious with what I commit to.
So what am I doing here? I'm pretty sure you've thought the same thing would have happened before now, Ren/Gray is rebooting everything and is seeing who's still interested. I miss The Third Dawn. I miss a lot of stories and people. I hope I've grown a lot. I would have handled a lot very differently. I ran into the artist (online) who actually created those zombie hamsters we first appropriated as Flarbs and told him about it. I still remember Jenkins telling me that the rules should never come before the fun. I wish I'd learned that sooner.
Erin (Kiko) died. That wasn't even her rl name, but it's who she wanted to be known as. I didn't handle that well. I never will. I loved her wholly and we were a slow, painful death. She cut me off before she finally left this world and I found out after the fact. She was my muse. I've written nothing of substance since.
Love has been a ride. I tried doing it right and almost lost my life. I've been through some hell I wouldn't wish on anyone. I have trauma. I've lost that whimsy I had once.
I'm safe now. I'm loved and cared for and worried about and have someone who I can rest easy with.
She wishes I would write.
It's been a long time, but I think it's time.
I don't know how much longer I have, 2 days, 2 decades, who knows? Odds aren't great. But I've so little that I can look at - that I have done, that I can leave, that I can at least feel good about. So I told myself I need to create, if I'm to stay sane. Writing, art, something.
So heya. I don't know if it will be here. Maybe. This place feels like home. Maybe just myself. Maybe I'll turn out a book one day, plenty of people encouraged me to.
Whoever you are, I hope your life is so goddamn splendid. I hope you wake with a smile and rest easy every night. And if I know you, I miss you and I thank you for ever spending time, creating with me, tolerating me, whatever it took.
And no, I still don't proof read anything.
So. What's up Gray?
I don't presume to think that anyone is asking, or will even see this.
It's complicated. I'm 47 this year - I think, because my meds make my brain very muddy. My memory is unreliable at best. I don't/can't work anymore because I have a confounding chronic pain disability that as yet, still hasn't quite been diagnosed. It's tiresome. Most days are manageable. Some aren't. Some are, very rarely, fine. I don't get out much. My partner works (she's a workaholic and kicks ass) and I look after our home. We don't have or want kids, but ended up taking in her niece because her home life wasn't what I would call safe. A 12 year old in my care. Oh dear.
I don't really have any real life friends. A couple. I see them rarely. I've lost my knack (did I ever have one?) for making friends online. I reach out, I get little back, it seems communication has changed a lot. That hasn't been helped by the constant assholes online. My medication is pretty serious. It hampers my ability to do a lot, but keeps the pain down. I'm scared of ever not being able to get it any longer. It's not an addiction issue, just missing a day is horrifying - the pain comes on very quickly. I have to be cautious with what I commit to.
So what am I doing here? I'm pretty sure you've thought the same thing would have happened before now, Ren/Gray is rebooting everything and is seeing who's still interested. I miss The Third Dawn. I miss a lot of stories and people. I hope I've grown a lot. I would have handled a lot very differently. I ran into the artist (online) who actually created those zombie hamsters we first appropriated as Flarbs and told him about it. I still remember Jenkins telling me that the rules should never come before the fun. I wish I'd learned that sooner.
Erin (Kiko) died. That wasn't even her rl name, but it's who she wanted to be known as. I didn't handle that well. I never will. I loved her wholly and we were a slow, painful death. She cut me off before she finally left this world and I found out after the fact. She was my muse. I've written nothing of substance since.
Love has been a ride. I tried doing it right and almost lost my life. I've been through some hell I wouldn't wish on anyone. I have trauma. I've lost that whimsy I had once.
I'm safe now. I'm loved and cared for and worried about and have someone who I can rest easy with.
She wishes I would write.
It's been a long time, but I think it's time.
I don't know how much longer I have, 2 days, 2 decades, who knows? Odds aren't great. But I've so little that I can look at - that I have done, that I can leave, that I can at least feel good about. So I told myself I need to create, if I'm to stay sane. Writing, art, something.
So heya. I don't know if it will be here. Maybe. This place feels like home. Maybe just myself. Maybe I'll turn out a book one day, plenty of people encouraged me to.
Whoever you are, I hope your life is so goddamn splendid. I hope you wake with a smile and rest easy every night. And if I know you, I miss you and I thank you for ever spending time, creating with me, tolerating me, whatever it took.
And no, I still don't proof read anything.