Amateur Writer - Tumblr Posts
Original story by me!
feel free to read and comment^^
Wrote a short story about the sapphic breakup… Or not?
In a world filled with prejudice and discrimination, two women try to maintain a new, still fragile relationship, which puts one of them in a difficult situation. She faces the harsh reality of having to hide her significant other from the judgmental eyes of her co-workers. Will they choose to conform to society's norms or will they fight for their relationship no matter what?
Started writing a new original bl story! It’s a romance between a journalist and a spy!
Marty is a journalist committed to ensuring that justice is served in case of any wrongdoing. Since his parents' mysterious deaths when he was just six years old, his entire life has been devoted to the pursuit of the truth.
He leads a high-stakes investigation of the enigmatic business tycoon, Crispin Hunkler. As Marty navigates the complexities of the case, he finds himself entangled in a web of intrigue and conflicting emotions. Their interactions spark Hunkler's interest in young journalist. So Marty has to deal with not only the attentions of an extreme-seeking, shady business tycoon, but also his own growing curiosity about the man's complicated nature.
Will Marty prioritize his quest for the truth over his unexpected feelings for Hunkler?
As the lines between right and wrong blur, Marty's decision becomes more difficult than he ever imagined.
amateur poem written by me!! n.i — moonysprettypoison
Soldier, poet, king!
my writings! English is not my first language and I just write for fun! oldest to newest.
Poetry🧸🔏
I’m not a violent dog!
Eternal drafts!
Soulmate!
The fury I don’t understand
Devour me whole
Diary of unspoken words
Dark beautiy
Imagine being loved by me
Eternal drafts🧸🔏
I envy poets who bleed on paper, their souls spilled in ink and heart. I struggle to fathom how to etch my thoughts and feelings into words. My soul is tempestuous and wild, my heart gentle yet untamed; I fear that my untamable, raging thoughts will remain unheard, misunderstood.
For I do not bleed on paper like they do. My verses are wild, messy, and thus my poems, forever penned only in the recesses of my mind.
— eternal drafts by me! n.i {moonysprettypoison}. because i wish i could put my feelings and thoughts into words and i wish i was better at writing!
The fury I don’t understand🍒💔🔏
Starved for so long, I tear into the pomegranate with a desperate hunger, hoping it might calm the storm inside me. But all it gives me is more to consume.
I stare at the wreckage—how fitting. The pomegranate is a cruel mirror, laying bare the turmoil within;
the red of my rage, the black of my despair. I wonder if I am merely the sum of these shattered fragments. Perhaps, in this mess, I’ve finally foun the answers I’ve been dreading.
the rage I don’t understand by me! n.i {moonysprettypoison}
Devour me whole 🔏❤️
I yearn for love—deep, fervent, a wild embrace that envelops my very being, raw with hunger and obsession. Not just love, but devotion that brings me to my knees, where my heart beats in surrender. My soul seeks a connection profound, where I am not merely seen, but intimately understood.
I long to devour and be devoured, to dismantle the walls that separate us, forging an intimacy no one else can know. I crave the exquisite thrill of surrender, to sink my teeth into him, to feel the echo of his desire mirrored in my own—a dance of passion, fierce and tender.
I am nothing if not hungry—yearning, craving, obsessively devoted. This is the love I seek: consuming, unrelenting, a fire that ignites and consumes us whole.
{devour me whole — by me, moonysprettypoison! Don’t copy my writing or claim it as yours or repost it! I don’t even think anyone would do that but just in case} ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Diary of unspoken words 🔏🧸
I talk to my feelings like old friends, scribbling their names in the margins of my mind. Each thought, a sentence perfectly formed, a secret confession written without a word.
My head is a diary, its pages filled with all the things I’ll never say. I explain myself so well in here— each feeling wrapped in clarity, a polished gem I hold to the light.
But when I try to speak, the ink vanishes, and the perfect thoughts become tangled threads, knots too tight for my mouth to undo.
In my mind, everything is clear, but outside, all is silence. The words stay locked away, safe between the lines where no one can see.
{diary of unspoken words by me, moonysprettypoison}
Dark beauty 🔏🖤
I gaze in admiration at the radiant woman before me, the girl who stormed into my life and gifted me the grace of resilient beauty. She has sunk her teeth into my soul, and now parts of me are hers—gnawed at, until we are bound in ways that words could never untangle.
Her dark curls fall like waves of night, each twist holding a secret, soft and wild. There’s a quiet power in her, a darkness that isn’t cold, but warm, like the safety of a shadow. Her strength feels ancient, as if she carries the weight of things long forgotten, yet moves through life with grace. In her, I find both shelter and something untamed— the kind of beauty that makes me feel more alive.
{“dark beauty” written by me! n.i — moonysprettypoison}
{written for one of my best friends, leyley}
Imagine being loved by me 💌
“Imagine being loved by me” — I would be your Pygmalion, shaping love from air, each touch sculpting you like Galatea, until my hands coax your heart to beat, and my breath awakens you from stone. — Patient, I would wait, as Pygmalion once did, for the marble to soften in my grasp, until, like Galatea, you step down from your pedestal, alive in the warmth of love only I could give.
“Imagine being loved by me” — written by n.i {moonysprettypoison}
So yall in greek mythology Pygmalion is a sculptor who falls in love with Galatea, a statue he created. Moved by his devotion, Aphrodite brings Galatea to life n they live happily together, symbolizing the transformative power of love.
✩₊˚.⋆☾
I have so many unposted little writing blurbs on my phone that I’ve always been too scared/intimidated to post on here but I think I’m going to start posting one everyday and maybe if people like them enough I’ll do continuations on some of them. Please interact with me!
This is my first ever short story! It’s based off of a real clown who beat a child to death in the street. I hope anyone reading gets a kick out of it!
“Punchy the Clown”
Jonathan Griswald had been the butt of the joke for most of his life, but the important thing is that it wasn't his fault.
"Look at Jonny's crooked nose! He looks like a dumb old crow!"
"Y'know Jon, you've been getting a little round lately... it's a wonder your bum leg hasn't given out! HA!"
"Dad, that man has funny eyes. Why is one so big? Did he steal them?"
Yeah, yeah. He was SO funny to all the morons, all his "friends", every little damn brat on the street.
But it couldn't get any worse than that. At least, that's what Jonathan thought. His school life had been hell; why wouldn't it have been? No one cared to hear a word that came out of his mouth. They all took him for a fool. An idiot! Because they thought he looked funny! Jonathan was no idiot. He was a GENIUS. He knew it. He had to be. His parents were smart, his father was rich. He was destined for greatness.
Or he would be.
It didn't matter that he nearly was flunked out of school. It didn't matter that he couldn't write clearly, or couldn't read. And it wasn't HIS fault no one knew how smart he was. No, better to save his breath, and his ideas. Oh, the ideas Jonathan had. He'd take the world by storm, show those idiots what was so funny when he had them shining his shoes! He'd decided that he was to be a great scientist. One day. Even a genius like him didn't know everything, and how was he expected to pay much attention in school when everybody was laughing so hard? It didn't matter what subject; he knew he'd pick up anything that was ACTUALLY important with ease. They'd be tripping over themselves to sway him to be a biologist, or a chemist, or some other science branch where he belonged. All he had to do was get into a university! He had just the one in mind, a prestigious academy in the capital. But even a genius like him knew to temper his expectations; the top university might not be ready for him right out the gate. It was probably reserved for graduate level students, already on the verge of becoming masters, and naturally with an unfair advantage over him, just a few years out of high school. He applied anyway, as well as to the rest of the top ten universities around the surrounding cities. It would just be five or so years he'd have to coast along to get to greatness. He would be rich. Maybe even famous! But he paced himself, for he was nothing if not modest. It was one spring morning when his offers finally came pouring in.
"Dear Mr. Griswald,
After reviewing your application, it is with some displeasure that we cannot accept you as a student at our university..."
"Jonathan Griswald,
Our university receives thousands of applications a year, and we regret to tell you you did not make the cut..."
"Mr. Jonathan Griswald,
Unfortunately, your transcripts are not up to the standards we set for our prospective students..."
"J Griswald - REJECTED."
His life was over before it even began.
He wasn't good enough for even the least popular of the many universities he'd applied to.
They thought he was an idiot.
That he wasn't worth their time.
He could hear them laughing at him.
But he couldn't give up; not yet. If he had a flaw, he knew it would be his writing. Why else would they ALL reject him? Something must have gotten lost along the way. They didn't feel his passion. They didn't know just how smart he could be. He sat, surrounded by torn envelopes and crumpled letters.
That's it!
If his problem was his writing, then he'd best go do the talking himself! It was a mistake to think anyone would even read his essays in the first place. His apartment was just a few blocks across the city from the best of the best. Surely, they'd let him speak and show how incredible he truly was! He hobbled over to his cane, put on his coat and hat, and fled out the door into a bright and beautiful morning. Yes, he would make them understand. Today would be a good day.
Some twenty minutes later, panting and cramping like hell, Jonathan found himself in front of an office of the university. Inside, there was a billboard with news clippings and fliers on it; academic fairs, a research grant opportunity, and a calendar graced it, as well as frivolous things like an advertisement for a new automobile. There was even a poster for a circus that would be arriving soon. One day, HE would be on a billboard. He'd be on them all! No scholar would go a day without knowing of Jonathan Griswald, a genius of great renown! All he had to do was secure his place as a student. He limped through the hall to a set of double doors at the end, in which some less important meeting was happening, took a deep, shaking breath, and burst in.
"Excuse me, I am Jonathan Griswald. I have applied to be a student at this academy, but I believe I was rejected by mistake. I have what it takes to be a genius, and I beg you to allow me to be a scholar!"
He glanced around him, at the smart-looking men circled around the room. Any moment now, one would speak up, shoot to their feet, and as he spoke he could feel himself gain confidence. Jonathan went over some of his best ideas, his most ambitious projects, that he was sure could work if only he got the chance! He talked.
And talked.
And talked.
Until he was done.
Until finally, gasping for air, he gazed upon the men in the room.
And one spoke.
"Excuse me sir, but I believe you have the wrong building. You see, we are an institute of science, and we teach students. Of those, we do not accept people of your sort. I must admit, your getup is impressive. Perhaps you will find your place as a 'genius' with the circus." He smiled.
It was a wicked thing.
"I am no clown," Jonathan vehemently denied, "I am a genius! You MUST accept me, I implore you - "
But he could not get out another word. His ears suddenly filled with a thunderous sound. It was so deafening, it reverberated in his bones.
Laughter.
They were LAUGHING at him. All of them! All these scientists and professors, sat around their little table, surrounding him with their laughter.
These idiots. Stupid, idiotic fools. A clown, was he? He hurt in his chest, his heart alight with rage. There was a pounding noise now. Blood in his ears.
"Hah! Look at his red face! Now you REALLY look the part!" Another spoke up.
"You know, he could be this generation's next great clown like that!"
"A scholarly clown! What a joke..."
Jonathan couldn't take it anymore. He lifted up his cane, determined to march out the doors. Instead, he nearly fell, barely catching himself on the knob.
Another surge of laughter, battering him like waves in a storm.
He pried open the door and threw himself into the hall, down to the building's entrance, and out into the street.
They barely gave him a chance! He came to them in person! He had every right to be there among those men! Those beasts. They cackled wolfishly in his mind. He could still hear the peals of laughter through open windows.
He hated them. Just because he looked strange, because his work wasn't given the respect it deserved, that HE deserved, he couldn't be a scholar.
They were the worst of mankind, truly. Scum. Vermin. Morons who probably got by just because they LOOKED like scientists. They were probably rich too. They must've paid someone for their status. They must've felt threatened by him! By his ideas! He ought to go back in there and give them a real piece of his mind!
He could feel the blood in his cheeks now.
Jonathan Griswald fled the academy building like a crooked, crazed storm. His arms thrashed out at nothing as he tried in vain to savagely beat the air before him. He could barely hear himself think, let alone anything else on the street that morning. Except for one thing.
A little girl, standing by her mother.
"Mommy, look! It's Punchy the Clown!"
It wasn't his fault.
Who could blame him? A genius like him, a clown? It seemed everyone thought so these days. He didn't belong in a circus, damn it!
It wasn't his fault. She was practically asking for it.
He slammed his cane down. Down into her pretty, young face. Again and again, he swung down at the girl, lying in the street, as her mother sobbed and screamed for help. her face was a mess of blood and bone.
It wasn't his fault.
There was blood on his face.
No one was laughing now.
JONATHAN GRISWALD - SENTENCED TO DEATH BY ELECTRIC CHAIR FOR MURDER OF A CHILD
✨the end✨
Now you listen here ya lil-
Dose anyone else draw out there book locations because there afraid there characters will get lost? My bdsm private hotel lobby and entertainment center
What I'll end up posting here.
First of, I wanna be honest and say that I'm not hoping to become famous or popular. I simply wanted a place to share some of my ideas with someone. Friends or strangers alike. Most of what I write is simple and short ideas that come to me during the day. English isn't my first language and I'm not a smart person, I'm not an eloquent or poetic person. What I write sometimes feels more like ramblings than actual stories. I do have some bigger stories I've been writing, some that I've been working on since I was a child. But I mostly write and draw to pass the time. This is nothing but a hobby for me, some people have insisted I somehow monetize my hobby, but I don't want to. If I ever wanted to make writing my main source of income, I would've already started printing my own little books and comics. But that's not what I want, what I want is to share my silly and stupid little story ideas. I want to see and know what people may think of them. Maybe they're terrible ideas, maybe they're entertaining. Some may cringe, laugh at me, others may actually like what I do, and maybe some others will have suggestions and requests.
I also hope that maybe what I do will inspire someone to give it their own twist, spin and creative vision. And with that I'm not saying that I'm writing revolutionary works of art. But maybe what I write has just enough potential for someone to make something great out of it.
I'll mostly post short ideas for stories I've written. I'll try to post a bunch of shorter ideas together. And if any idea is a little larger, I'll make a post for that idea alone. And this finally brings me to the main reason I wanted to start sharing my stories with someone.
A few weeks ago, I was looking through my notebooks, which I turned into the main medium I materialize my ideas onto: pen & paper. I saw an idea I came up with a long time ago, along with my siblings. This idea was fun and it's the drawings I'm using for the blog's banner and such. I wanna post some more details about it too. It's the story that made me think "I need to know what people would think about this story".
And so, here I am. Sometimes I'll want to post also some drawings. I don't usually feel proud of my drawings, doodles and sketches. However, whenever I see some of the most popular comic creators' artstyles and some of YouTube's more popular animators... no offense, but, I think my drawings aren't bad when compared to what we enjoy looking at. Yeah, I follow some of the comic strips makers and while their styles are simple and sometimes funny, most are either minimalistic, black and white only or flat out stick figures. And I'm not saying those styles are bad or ugly or wathever. But that when I see that (me included) a lot of people enjoy looking at them and their silly jokes and ideas of jokes, then wathever I draw has a chance to be enjoyed too. I'd love to see what others think of my work. Sorry that this is a huge post, I just love writing whatever it is that's going through my mind.
Thanks for reading though!
Untitled story about Ashley, "Rocky" and Señor Malo.
This story is meant to be like a Saturday morning cartoon with a super dark sense of humour.
Ashley was with her family on their way to one of many extracurricular classes her parents signed her up for, that she didn't like going to. The traffic was hellish. "Rocky" happened to be driving right next to them, on his way to work, when he notices a drunk driver who is not about to wait around for traffic. He tries to block him but he reacts too late. The drunk driver hits "Rocky's" truck head on and this in turn makes his truck hit Ashley's family van, just where Ashley was sitting.
The three of them die and apparently ended up in hell. While it's obvious why the drunkard is there, it's not clear why either of them are. For one, Ashley's family was full of atheists or spiritual hippies who believe in aliens and similar things. While "Rocky" is a devout and lawful man of god.
From the flames emerges Señor Malo (and it's not evil in Spanish, it's his last name). He explains to the two that they are in a place between Earth and the afterlife. The reason it looked firey was because their accident caused "Rocky's" truck to burst into flames, igniting the nearby woodlands. They aren't dead yet and had a chance of going back to Earth and live again. All they had to do was come to terms with the fact they had made some questionable decisions during their lifetime, and then make up for the consequences of their poorly thought of actions. Ashley knew exactly what she did, but "Rocky" was hit so badly he lost all his memories.
Since they can't change the past, Señor Malo asks them to help him out. He hunts down all sorts of addicts and criminals whose actions directly affects innocent people's lives.
"Rocky" thinks it must be a bad dream. But Ashley is conflicted. On one hand, she's free of her overbearing and strict parents' stupid rules and extracurricular classes ideas. But she also was no longer gonna see her best friends.
So far, that's as much as I've written about it, I want to see how well I can expand this idea, maybe into a full series (comics, actual animation, a full book, who knows). What kind of issues does Ashley have. What kind of criminals Señor Malo ends up meeting and hunting down. What is "Rocky" doing thorought all of this?
So, what do you think about it? Any questions, criticism, advice, suggestions and insults welcome.
I've been writing day after day, coming up with ideas and drawing up tons of concepts, yet nothing I create feels good enough. I usually try and make my stories readable, but sometimes I can't seem to get them to a point where I feel comfortable sharing any of them.
However, I started uploading here because I wanted to get over that fear of sharing something "imperfect" or otherwise "incomplete" because, I am just doing this for fun. I am writing stories and drawing for my entertainment.
I won't promise anything only to fail and break my promises. But I will share some of the stuff I've been writing, even if I feel like it's not worthy. I don't have sketches or drawings for most of my stories, but I may find some doodles I can post here too.
I just wanna add, I'm barely an amateur writer and I don't call myself an artist. Even in my writing, I ramble a lot. So I'm sharing what I do for fun, because I wanted others to read too. Maybe even give me their opinions and show me their perspective, criticize me. Wathever it is, thanks for reading!
I'm thinking maybe I will simply take some photos of entire pages of my notebooks and of the loose papers I have in my drawers.
I truly just want to make some of my ideas into readable stories. But at the same time, this makes it so I never end up posting anything.
I'll take a good look at everything I've written and drawn over the years, pick something and see how it looks as a tumblr post.
Wathever I pick, I hope it's interesting or entertaining. And if it's not, I have such a backlog, I'm bound to find at least one that you may like.
Some of my more recent drawings.
I felt more comfortable sharing photos of a few of my more recent ideas. Some of them I wrote during the pandemic; a few while I was at my cashier job waiting for things to happen and the rest when I was finally back home after some truly boring and miserable shifts.
I covered some of the names and last names of the characters in the stories because some of them are placeholder names and I used real last names of people I know, as well as my own name and last name with variations because I'm not that creative. I use a couple of methods to pick names for my characters. One is going through letters, in some order (like the order of keys in a keyboard) and then choosing a name with that letter. If I want the story to feel more genuine or organic I look for "popular" and "common" names in specific countries or specific years. The same goes for surnames or last names. I usually don't give any characters middle names, because I'm also not that creative when designing characters.
To help me with that, I made "templates" for myself and gave each template a few stereotypical and clichéd traits and assigned them basic personalities, fashion styles and such. I basically draw a whole 5 different little fellows with various body types and names. And I'll be honest, giving them unique clothes was insanely difficult for me. That was one of the hardest things for me, to make them look completely unique. Before, about a decade ago, the way I managed to make them look like they were dressed different was color-coding them all like Miis or something. When I tried to give their clothes any patterns or designs, I realized I'm not a designer of any kind. So instead of making up horrendous fashion crimes, I started using my own clothes for inspiration. Granted I dress like Zuck most of the time, but still. It helped a little bit.
Finally, I also had to start writing stories that were different between eachother. Originally, as a kid, I started writing a story about some teenagers (because little me thought fifteen year olds were so cool) and a global catastrophe they were going to do a school project on, when they were interrupted by a paranormal, magical event that led them to a parallel, very distinct world where they could help and somehow fix some of the problems they were facing on Earth. For a long time, most of my stories exclusively featured the protagonists of this one big world and also followed that world's rules and timeline. But I soon became worried I was only making things needlessly complicated and most of the stories didn't really need to be tied to the bigger story and the protagonists.
So I started by using those characters as little dolls and put them in all kinds of situations, some were related to things I was dealing with while others had to do with aliens and magic. Soon, I started to create new characters, new worlds and over time, I started writing things other than high fantasy and worlds that weren't directly inspired by my favourite RPGs of the time. I started with horror, then sci-fi and even did slice of life kind of things. Some of the stuff I've been writing for fun lately is meant to be connected to a whole other world I've created and it's fun to create lore that goes unexplained.
Now, I feel more free. I write tons of "one off" stories in all sorts of worlds with all kinds of rules and history. And in the middle of the pandemic? While I was bored at work? I came up with tons of ideas. Most of them are pretty embarrassing, I wasn't thinking clearly when I wrote them and while I don't regret writing those embarrassing stories, those are some stories I'd rather lose in an "accidental" fire than ever sharing them with anyone. But the rest are a bit light, fun or weird. I thought I was being original with some of them, but even if they aren't new ideas, I was happy with what I wrote.
I'm not the best at doing details, hands, feet, proportions, anatomy or perspective and sometimes I think I'm not even good doing faces, but I love drawing and I'm still trying to get better each time. I know I'm rambling a lot, that's what I do best, but I'm sorry if this is just way too much. I know it's my blog but I did promise I'd upload stuff that is supposed to be entertaining in some way. So to make this long post even longer, here are a few of my more recent stories and drawings. I'm ashamed of my handwriting so I cropped most of the text out of the photos.
And one last thing, English is not my native toungue, some of the stories and titles may have grammatical errors and such. However, I do write everything twice; once in Spanish and then I translate it to English. I don't use automatic translators, so any errors and mistakes are 100% on me. If you wanna know why I'm not writing my entire blog in Spanish; I don't know, actually. English has become my default because it was easier to speak with people online and then it stuck with me. If there are people out there who want me to, I wouldn't mind writing a couple of entries in Spanish as well as re-uploading some stories. Enough rambling, time for photos.
This is the first thing I did in my little notebook I took with me to my cashier job. I didn't intend to use it to draw little fellows and write silly stories, but I was bored out of my mind the first few days. Because I wrote it during some strict covid regulation times, the characters are also wearing facemasks. This story is about two best friends who decide to impulse-buy an old bookstore. They turn it into a more trendy books and novelty shop and decide to only open it during the night. The story itself is meant to follow the month before they buy the store and their night shifts where they meet strange and eccentric clients.
This one is about three friends who are struggling to pay rent. After they sell most of their valuables and juggle between two jobs, they try the newest booming market; independent adult content. From the start, the two girls seem to be doing well, but it's nowhere near enough to survive and afford rent. They quickly think of selling some feet pics, but neither of them have particularly photogenic feet... but Stuart does. Desperate about their dire situation, they take a risk. Stuart shaves his legs, the girls get him some girly "legwear" and they take dozens of pictures. And like magic, their idea is a big hit! That night, they eat like middle-class citizens with no kids. But their plan only worked for a short time, the fans wanted to "meet the girl with the pretty feet". Okay I'm not too proud of this one.
This is one of three stories about people making a living out of being some sort of influencer, internet celebrity or content creator. Allen inherits a house in the city that's really expensive to mantain. To his luck, he knows a guy who can help pay for it and can keep him company in the big and busy city. When winter time comes, there's some repairs that need to be done and both of them are short on cash, working with a really tight budget. Allen is saving every penny, but Eric just lost his job. Suddenly one day, Eric claims to be ready to pay rent and groceries. In his words, "livestreaming pays real good". But what kind of livestreaming could he be doing that helps pay for a huge house in an equally huge city? Eric never mentioned having a huge social media following and he didn't even own a good PC. Allen was suspicious but didn't mind much, they could afford living comfortably enough. One day, he's ordering food online and wants to know if Eric wants a specific dish or not. Since he's not answering any texts, he thinks it's better if he goes and knocks on his bedroom door to get his attention. But the door wasn't locked properly and Allen got a good look at the kind of livestreams his roomate was doing. This one is meant to be based off a story I'd heard about.
For this one, I'm more or less confident in how my handwriting looks, but I'm sure there's some mistakes and errors. I still do a ton of leaning bodies when I draw, and since I draw with inks, it's nothing I can fix so I just roll with it. I'm not really good at drawing clothes, uniforms in particular are nightmarish, but I was happy with this idea actually. The point of this story is that the protagonists look one way but really are another. The meek and scaredy Raymond is actually pretty brave. The tough and big Esmeralda is quite delicate and emotional. And the bored, angry looking Amber is really thoughtfull and caring. Also, the idea is that the Academy they are all attending is not really an Academy, but something bigger than they realize.
I'm going to read through some of the stuff I've written in loose papers and post some of those stories too, either later today or tomorrow as soon as I have coffe or something.
Any and all comments are welcome.
Thank you for reading!
I'm ashamed of what I wrote over ten years ago.
I spent a couple of days reading through my old notebooks, trying to find something worth sharing. But all I ended up finding were some stories I wrote when I wasn't doing well mentally.
Most of them are just repetitive but all of them are more like angry diary entries than actual stories with interesting characters or vast worlds.
I won't go into details, but at least I'm happy that I'm no longer a moody teenager. Some "stories" from before 2014 are one hell of a time machine, I can even point to the exact point in my life where I started dressing the way I do today just based off of the kinds of things I was drawing.
However I managed to still find a couple of ideas I had that aren't all that bad. I won't be able to show pictures of the drawings I made to go along with the stories because I used myself as inspiration for some of the characters, but I'll redesign that character and share the stories once I make the basic stories more readable. See, for a couple of my ideas, I usually drew them as comics instead of writing them down. And I'm not sure I know how to properly do comics. I'm restricted to the size of my notebooks and the amount of detail I'm able to give to the drawings with my pens, so I try to maybe fit way too much information inside the tiny panels.
Later I'll double check some of the loose papers and pick the stuff that doesn't embarrass me as much. It's just that I sometimes let my inmediate thoughts tell me what to do and I ended up writing way too many crappy erotic stories. Plenty of them are about the same subject matter and the same topics because I do have obvious and specific fixations and preferences.
And while I'm not particularly ashamed of writing erotica, porn or smut, I don't want the blog to be about that. Maybe one day I'll post one or two of those kinds of stories, but I'd have to rewrite them just to remove some names and change some characters around so they don't feel like the same storie just copy-pasted over and over.
Lastly, I did write stuff with the specific intention of sharing them with you. Some of them are barely ideas I still need to develop into something more interesting. And a few others are maybe perfectly ready to post, I'd just need to expand upon them a bit to make them exciting. I'm gonna be working on them so that I have more stuff to post here. Other than my mindless ramblings.