i bruck my mind on novelwritemonth uggen.  it doesn’t help my emotions are getting flame-roasted every other day by unrelated circumstances.  i did get the fifty k, didn’t like my work much, and didn’t remotely come close to finishing story.  kinda wonderin what’s the best use of my minutes now.  probly this sewing project.

but i’d like to write.  in my horrible no-good moments of extreme hubris, i’m like, I should write five serialized stories per week for people to follow.  this comes from seeing a world with not enough things for the people.  so many are stuck doomscrollin.  i wanna jailbreak tormented minds, give people something to look forward to.

because i know from experience life these days can be rugged as fuck, and i know from a lil look around that people need alternatives in entertainment, and a lot of the people who could be making that happen are themselves being broken down unto uselessness.  watch a yewchoob show get off to a promising start then degenerate into unintentionally broken promises, and the live-vlogging of a descent into mental and physical ruin.  huzzah!

makes it feel like the world is dying and the only thing that will be left is mediocre slop from disney-raytheon’s genocide ‘n’ cartoons division, or news about how eating vaccines makes you jewish.  alternative entertainers of the world, please get it together, make it happen for the people.  they need u.

i’m percolatin on notions, but trying to be very wary of hubris.  vvery wary.

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