wake up with the purest sense of being

i think the notion of writing for yourself only goes so far. i mean i still write what i like, yeah, that isn't about to stop. and the kind of stuff i like is probably dodgy at best but it makes me happy and real life is already shoddy enough.

you cannot please everyone.

i can start with me.

(i think i can understand why i enjoy taking prompts when it comes to my writing so much. it feels a little like realizing someone's dreams, maybe it is not much more than a 200 words drabble scraped together with bits and pieces of wips lying around, but to make even one person happy, yeah, that is pretty fucking great too.)