Things, and no context.

Oh dear. Oh gosh

Eagle Time I have a confession. I want to post more and stay connected with you guys but I feel like I never know what to say.

:(

Eagle Time I have a confession. I want to post more and stay connected with you guys but I feel like I never know what to say.

:(

On the Internet I have probably accumulated well north of 10000 posts between tens of forums over roughly 17 years. I don’t remember most of them, though I suppose if I did it all over again I’d save each one to a database of sorts. Let’s just say straight out that not all of them were worth saying, and many were deleted without sending after being completely written because even in the moment I knew it was not really pertinent (or wise, or true, or kind).

But let it also be said that not all of them that did get posted were pure quality, nor pure awfulness that probably will come back to haunt me in the end. Surely some of them are. But the majority are just there, of no particularly great excitement; I hope mildly humorous or at least playful is the tone I set, though it’s surely not possible every time with my tendency to ramble, and there do seem to be those persons who take issue with anyone who makes them read. Anyhow, it was the habit of being a ridiculous forum chatterbox that led to my current ability to pump out essay-like posts. I figure a lot of people would never guess that I had a lot of trouble with writing them when I was in grade school, but it would make more sense in the context that I like to get things far too thorough and perfect beyond my knowledge even if it means overrunning every reasonable deadline.

You can get a lot of information on good topics for posts (small talk or not) off the Internet. But personally what I can usually gush about ad nauseam is usually my deepest passions and my latest projects, and what I can half-ass almost all the time is a mildly edited stream of consciousness (that’s what this post is).

A lot of people who post here have hopes and dreams, and they post about them. They don’t necessarily all turn into completed projects or anything; that would be ridiculously out of the norm for the Internet, including the possibly hundreds I tried getting involved in over the years. Posting about what motivates you in just the right way can infect other people with their own motivations, and that is a fine contribution. All that said, you do not have to feel obligated to say anything. Both improving your posting and holding your tongue are good habits to practice; what a win–win situation!

EDIT: I made this post with no context as per the thread, but I have then evaluated some information, and I feel obligated to say, objectively you are going through an especially rough patch, so in that light trying to be encouraging is more likely to have been a particularly insensitive thing

I know how hard it is for me to come up with something that feels right to say if there isn’t a “feeling right” that it can come from. So I would then like to emphasize: a clod like me, who’s lost touch with a great many friends, anything I can say to do is only qualified as advice for attaining a lonely life like mine; I certainly have not done much that made me worth so much staying in touch with. My skill admittedly does not lie in listening, but I also know all too well what it’s like not to be listened to.

So, it is really okay to not know what to say if someone is there to listen better than it is said.

Eagle Time I have a confession. I want to post more and stay connected with you guys but I feel like I never know what to say.

:(

Oh god same! Like I hardly know what to say because if have no idea what anyone else likes. (There are some exemptions, but not many.)

I like hanging out in Hawkspace because you can just post whatever nonsense, like you can make a thread called "bup" with the text "bup" and then maybe people will comment "bup" in there

Sometimes I have trouble deciding what to say, even right now, so it's fun to just interact with people in a low pressure environment and perform goofs

Dearest Chwoka,

The Fall is hard on my Summer-tanned back. A chill wind bites my ears and messes with my hair. I miss you.

The days are brief and in them I can only write and wait, hoping that the message is received and a reply returned. The Autumn's harvest has begun, and the beets were the first to be pulled from the ground. Fried beets, baked beets, and borscht will feed us for the week, with sliced dried beets for treats for the Winter. When I cut into the beets and they bleed their red all over my hands, I think about the things we did to get here, to escape our old lives.

I expect to harvest the celery and sweet potatoes within the month, I can feel the frost's return approaching. Kale can wait, but the carrots and parsnips shouldn't be left either.

I found a brooch the other day when I was out harvesting beans (there is no end to them!) with unusual patterns of spiraling green discs, almost like lilipads but more perfect. It is woven together with a gold metal and was only covered in a little mud. I can't wait to show you!

When will you return? I know you said soon, but when is soon? I miss you.

Sincerely, Reyweld.

am self-proclaimed 5th woman
bow down before 5th woman

it's spumpkin

someone leads you down a dark alley and then sprouts huge tiddies
and punches you to death