Holy Cow, what is that?? O.O

Fuck a duck, WHY is every awesome game PS4 only?! Why?!

He won't say it directly, it's not his way, but when G misses me terribly, he'll call and order: "Stop fucking around and come home already." And by fucking around he means going to see movies I am not supposed to see alone (Like Joker) and eating expensive candy I am not supposed to eat after nightfall (because it gives me tummy ache.) Basically, it just means: come home. I don't like rooms without you in them.

PS On a related subject, drew Garrosh as the 'You love whom you love' prompt. I'm halfway through writing the last chapter of Goose's midriff, where he is the lead, and am wondering if I should include the 'My intuition tells me to hide, weather it out, hope it doesn't start in my lifetime and let it be somebody else's problem when the time comes. My spine, ethics and camera, on the other hand ....' speech.

Wondering if I should go see Joker. I really want to, but I am starting to get nightmares just reading about it. Sure, this bed I am on over the weekend is wildly uncomfortable (missing bars), and the cat is very scary, but still ... I dreamt tonight the family was visiting some castle and one of the genitors tried to hang himself, which I prevented by yelling for help, but then my dad had a heart attack and the last thought before I woke up stiff and sore was 'A life for life' ...
      I also dreamt I was the Scaramouche and a rebel graffiti painter in some castle-school-military establishment, and had to finally run from assassins, because the college had it up with me. It was fun, but I had to leave all my things behind - my shoes, my camera, my clothes, my paints, all of that. And I don't think my life is perfectly whole without those things. Not that as materials they are not irreplaceable, it's just that if I run, I run with them. Other people grab kids or pets or somesuch. To each their own. Because of course then you have to run knowing all of those things got smashed and pissed on.

      Shouldn't have drunk proper milk, either. Tummy got upset. So, plenty of explanations for the nightmares. I kinda really wanna go see the movie.

General's line of the week

Me: "I sometimes take time to watch porn, I have this whole ritual - I make some coffee, find the theme, choose the toys and ..."
General: "You need to take coffee so you don't fall asleep having sex with yourself?"

Is there a book that says how to get a scary old cat off the bed, because it's nigh midnight and I am getting very tired? Does anyone know? There's only so many episodes of Fringe one can binge. This house has no couch.

PS Spelling is very important. Had I misspelled the main object into either car, cap, cam, caw or cab, my life would seem even stranger ....

Sleeping and cold, because stupid

The weirdest thing, lotsa people say that sleeping with their lover is right there at the top of the things they enjoy most and find most comforting. I wasn't sure until recently, though I've always suspected, the General really makes sure my kidneys are covered when I sleep. He does this in his own sleep. We are both prone to pushing covers off ourselves - he bunches his huge fluffy duvet and hugs it and sleeps on it, I slip out from under my tiny blankie and just sleep next, usually big-spooning or just kind 'hidden' in the small of his enormous back. But whenever he stirs or not even stirs, just rolls, he checks, tugs, pulls the blankie over my midriff, knowing the one place I hate being chilly is my lower side and then proceeds to bunch me with the duvet and sleeps on top of me.
       Today, being away from home, I did that dumb thing I always do, I opened the window and just napped on the bed, without any covers. My body got SO cold, not to mention I slept on the arm, which was literally numb and frozen for it, it was painful by the time I woke up. Nobody covered me, nobody made sure I am in a proper position. No dreams, because the entirety of my sugar supply avoided the brain and just invested everything it had into the furnace system.
       What a weird thing. Your own body forgetting how to sleep alone and actually depending on someone else to moderate it through the night. It's just the dumbest thing. A whole weirder layer of finding someone homey.

I am making a conscious effort to join some drawing challenges, and stay on them for at least a week...

Notoriously bad at keeping up with homework, and perfectly able to slaughter seven people when what I am trying to do doesn't come out right, time to face the fact I am really, really bad at drawing. I haven't always been, but what started as a PTSD has turned into an equivalent of a stroke. So, waiting for the talent to return ... it's been two years. Fuck it.
       Now, 'talent' doesn't mean you're good at something, it just means that you are willing to devote a shitload of time to practice something. And #inktober sounded like the exact thing I need if I want to get back on that lame three-legged half dead war horse called illustration.

Here are the things I need to re-learn:
- control of the wrist
- control of the elbow
- posture
- eyesight
- breathing
- control of the grip
- understanding paper
- understanding the brush
- understanding the paint. I still use watercolor as if it were tempera. How long will I keep doing that, man, until I die?

October, the summer-est of all autumn months, has four challenges ongoing. I fucked up one already, but... ye, whatever.

Inktober - drawing with just ink. I can't, yet. I chose a weird dark shitty paper, but still - I am not yet able to draw what needs to be drawn in just two colors. Also, my draw is shit. I shake and I yank the line, like a noob.

Artober - this one I misread and made four drawings by the time I realized it was also supposed to be done just in ink. Ah, well.

Drawlloween - am using dark gray paper, it's supposed to be goth themed. Managed one so far. Tore up the other five. They were terrible. I can only draw the things that have long sat in my head and fail to draw anything I've not tried before. And the brain refuses to peek out of the box. Which is what the challenge is about.

Okay, a lot of people do cheat and draw something for days to post, and a lot of them also just post random shit they had lying around that has nothing to do with the title. But okay.

Nini's Prompts - the 52 weeks year-round challenge. I've finally jumped on the wagon of this one, quite literally as the first prompt was a caravan. She does these masterfully. So does another lady, whose heart really seems to be in illustration - and mine really isn't. It's still outside in the rain.

But it's only been day two.
Practice, practice, practice. Constancy and consistency are two of the things I really, really, really lack.

Colorless cameleon

Mindless

Ice Cream

Elephant with sniffles

Vampire

Ring

Caravan

(Re) Build

Snufkin

An arrogant rose