we are not lost

Aubrey; also Birdie.
Student and writer. Polyamorous and really gay. Chronically ill.
Local queen of cait sidhe. Powered by caffeine, anxiety, and spite.

Jan. 31st, 2015

mortalcity: A flock of corvids against a pale sky (corvids | the devil counted to seven)
Small PSA for anyone who has AIM and wants to talk to me: I changed my screenname to magpietellme. You are welcome to poke me even if we haven't talked before, even if you're just lonely and bored. If I don't respond immediately, it's probably just because I wandered away or didn't notice the window flashing, not because I hate you.

[profile] thebonesofferalletters loaned me a computer, so I am not totally laptopless while mine is out. Their keyboard is so much nicer than mine. Still going to try to do some of the prompts people gave me (MAT, YOU STILL OWE ME), but I can also keep working on Faeries Stole My Girlfriend. I really need to finish the first draft this month. Seriously, it's not optional.

Feeling the compulsion to completely rewrite the first half of this fucking story. I'm not going to do it until I finish it, and at least I have an idea of where I want to go on the next draft, but ugh. This could not wait until I'm done, so I don't have to continue while everything that's wrong stares me in the face? I hate writing why do I do this.