Roady @Roady_Dragonfae@awoo.space

Koko's got a bacon flavored doggy tincture! Hopefully this helps with her skin inflammation.

Something is telling me I should be having antlers instead of antennae... With modified prehensile wings that have an iridescent insectoid membrane.

The last year and a half, if not most of my life, I've been tossed around like a bean bag by one uninitiated man child after another.

I'm fucking done with it.

I need to do what's best for myself. That means finding work that doesn't trigger deep seated problems that involve dealing with these kinds of men.

Thankfully, I have emotionally mature individuals in my life who are willing to help guide me down my correct path. That, I can be truly grateful for.

As fun as said job was in the beginning, I'm starting to realize how badly it's taking over my life and my creative drive.

With all the projects I want to work on, I need to find a job that's closer in relation to those fields.

Does anyone else ever been stressed to the point where not only does your brain fog up, become dizzy, and frustrated. But you also start feeling this deep burning sensation in your chest that resonates through your body as if you're about to spontaneously combust?

That's how I felt after last week. I haven't had any motivation this weekend...I slept all day.

If other projects demand my attention, maybe it's time for me to find a different line of work with skills I already have.

Why the fuck do I keep getting strange calls and texts from people I don't know? It's totally random bullshit too. Someone texting me as if I inquired about a room for rent on craigslist or someone asking me if I know a guy named Carlos. What the fuck is going on? Is someone spoofing with my phone number?

Koko, you're a character. xD Glad I can have her at raygun, working on projects on my new surface and diddling with the onboard camera.

All in all... The vampiric drain of Babylon has run my soul ragged. I look forward to a three day weekend where I can recenter myself and get back to my purpose.

I wasn't meant to fit in. I wasn't meant to fit into the system. I was meant to break it. I was meant to stand on the outside and be critical of it.

That's how the shaman lives and works... The shaman sees that everything around them is insane and unsure of itself. Thus begins a plan to escape.

I'm tired... There's no other way to describe it. Just.... Tired...

Tired of dealing with one thing after another. Tired of this stupid fucking society and its stupid fucking rules. Tired of the projections and expectations of other people. I just need to get away from it all... I'm tired of playing the game. I never wanted to play to begin with.

That's all it is. A stupid fucking game.

I'm thankful my younger self left me a bread crumb trail out of this hole.

Jesus fuck. It tastes like they scraped the sweat off a San Francisco tech bro's ass and put it in a bottle.

When your week has you so drained of spoons that spelling is a foreign concept when painting a sign for Convergence.

More often than not, I do come off as perfectly fine. But deep in the back of my mind I'm always fighting with my head.

My fucked up brain is always looking for something to latch onto and beat me into submission with it.

It's this fucked up concept where my abuser is in my head. Why? What the fuck is this thing doing? Why won't it go away?

I keep turning to my dreams to find it, but I keep coming up short.

That feeling after thoroughly vacuuming chunks of broken glass out of your bed and knowing the possibility of remaining microscopic shards ripping into your scales while you sleep...

Vacuum from one too many open windows while going down a freeway + strain of expansion from heat = Catastrophic implosion of structural weakness.

Fucking...Hell...