searcher

Guys...
          I'm cancelling my Pressure stories.
          
          I am appalled with the shit that happened. No one should have to go through what Ren did, and it had to be FUCKING ZEAL.
          
          Yeah, Pressure was one of my favorite games to play. But that doesn't matter now. No one can play it without it supporting the devs, and fuck that noise.
          
          So yeah.
          I'm discontinuing my Pressure stories, and I'm going to delete Sebastian and Painter from my Empty Pieces A/U Series. I already made an announcement in Book 5: Voice Through the Vents, and included Gianni Matragrano's video discussing the situation and what he's going to do going forward.
          
          This is my goodbye to Pressure.
          
          Again, I hope you all can support Ren through this. She could really use the help and encouragement.

hey heyyy
          I'm getting into TSAMS, guys
          I need YOUR help
          yes, YOU.
          I don't know all of the characters for the show, so I need y'all to help me with a list
          and while we're on that topic
          
          can someone tell me if bloodmoon is an actual set of twins or not
          my former partner had two alters of bloodmoon that were named bloody and scythe, but i dunno if those are actually the real TSAMS names for bloodmoon
          
          I need help
          also Ruin Eclipse kinda fine
          
          ...
          
          I'm a clanker, guys-
          
          CLANK CLANK CLANK-
          
          I fuckin' LOVE robots

I'M SO MAD
          My boyfriend is ignoring me
          I don't even know if I should call him that anymore
          shit is pissing me off
          I did NOTHING to him
          actually.

a small token of kindness [ 17th september 2025, wednesday ] 
          
          broken fury, dead incitement, delirium stitched in emotions. yearning winds, fanning destructions, branches that bury their homelands. 
          
          systemic disorientations, horrors owed to joys that bleed. mysterious differences, confusions constructed, alarms that ring but souls that refuse to awaken. 
          
          blaring conquerors, forgotten tunnels, coffee cooling beside unmade dread. thrumming fingertips, raging purposes, metamorphosis: humans crawling, carrying everyday banters. 
          
          the sun with a thousand eyes, the night with hidden crimes, feathers drowned in poet's ink. sorrows of lyrics, wings lost in the blue, life that feeds one melancholy, souls distilling it into hope. 
           #adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness [ 09th september 2025, tuesday ] 
          
          a round table, 
          a conference of triangles, 
          fortitude or servitude?
          a decision to be sought. 
          pages of emotions 
          and binders of spiral thoughts, 
          moon's decorum splintered
          in the group aubade. 
          
          hollowed warrior first, 
          stepped and stood upon, 
          soundless glare
          with edges bruised. 
          happiness arid, 
          interrogation drying, 
          forts and castles 
          over murdered merits.
          and then a joy—
          foreign and known—
          repenting its birth. 
          
          mind of the crumbs, 
          heart of the loaves.
          no trek can trample
          the path of a trickster. 
          a lone chill, a surrounded cry, 
          traces of impulses
          in the fireplace of life. 
          
          a wardrobe of escape, 
          mumbling telephones.
          rotten tales and
          tatters of the pretenders. 
          guests excused, 
          world locked-up, 
          and again—
          the uncaring rouse
          protects to betray.
          the sky of memory 
          chokes
          the birds of today,
            like fluttering sage. 
          oh souls of flesh, 
          how similar are thoust— 
          from one to another— 
          you migrate in your palm. 
           #adropofhumanity 

GUYS I EMAILED GIANNI MATRAGRANO AND HE RESPONDED TO ME AAAAAAAAAAAA

a small token of kindness [ 01st september, 2025 — monday] 
          
          words plated in heirlooms, heavy with light,
          tinkling cuts, dazzling wounds —
          weaponry forged from childhood gloom,
          wars cradled in a mother’s stolen womb. 
          
          windmills bow above folded clothes,
          grandmother’s peach crumble cooling on the sill.
          cottages lean, tethered with ghosts —
          growth a gamble, memory the wager. 
          
          tender hearts rest in greasy hands,
          coloured proses, begotten rhyme.
          measuring the gaps of fleeting hours,
          tidy rooms against the storm of rest. 
          
          roads of chemicals, an age of hearts,
          souls displaced, refugees of home.
          effervescence rushes, skeletons mist-bound —
          a tale as old as precedents. 
          
          labyrinthine dashes, nuance permitted,
          olives of faith, olives betrayed.
          a marathon — glass slippers sublime —
          and all of life becomes a floor for dancing,
          a garden for incitement,
          a bloom pressed against time. 
           #adropofhumanity 

how come no one's active on here anymoreeeeeeeeeee

HEY HEY I'M ALIVE YOU GUYS

a token of kindness [ 24th august, 2025 — sunday ] 
          
          where comes the chaos? soar and sin, the culprit,
          from the lodging inns. surrendered and sought,
          beavering, bold— a little of the timid, a lot of the known. 
          
          swinging with pride, doors left unknocked,
          a guest invited under intoxication’s hold.
          forging, jeopardising, guided by homely apple-pie servings; bruised words swept beneath the rug of humility. 
          
          barks and bellows, odours, open wounds,
          entangled chairs and a single creaking move.
          whisper, then wait, tremors that carry
          a mouth of screams— beginning and dying
          in a parched throat. 
          
          kalopsia and kites— a guest like ropeburn,
          pricking like wine. mindful maps, mindless routes,
          sanctuaries like lies that bury the truth.
          shadows stumble, shoes fade—
          a blessing strikes a menace, transforming a paper cut into a prayer. 
           #adropofhumanity