Me: sociophobia should be fought, so I celebrate bday at work, with friend and family in one day. And after that I'm gonna relax for three days.
My body: are you fucking insane? What about suffering? You will feel ill for these three days.
Me: ...
My body: 36.9ยฐC bitch
I didn't post almost anything here since 2019, and now I see translations of my old tweets. Which is awkward. The posts from the summer child who didn't know about covid and didn't have huge financial loses in stocks. And who's depression wasn't that deep, tho I wouldn't believe
Me: okay, i need a scene to fix problem with tempo and with some other stuff
Me: *adds the scene with Ida naked and smoking*
Me: and a little bit of femslash
Being writer is reading a book or watching a movie, seeing something associated with your work and then thinking only about what you create instead of just consuming all these awesome things.
This freaking feeling when you spend money on clothes in style which you don't just "dislike" but "disgust". But you can't change a shit because the process of shopping is so depressing, that you want not the shirt but to die.
When it comes to my science project all I want is to quit. I want no more of these useless edits just to make text shorter. It becomes clear that this is the dead end. And I won't get PhD in engin. not cause of intellectual imperfection, but due to getting stuck in text reducing.