Happy is good.

I like being happy.

I also like to write. Mostly I write happy little sappy short stories about happy characters having happy sex. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about the whole liking-happy thing.

This is not solely a writing-tumblr, though I do post bits and bobs from the things I've written. I also talk about the world as I experience it, sometimes with swearing. I'm just gonna assume you're all grown up enough to know what you can handle.

I've tagged almost all of my posts, by the way.

...That's really about it. If you're still curious and you really wanna know something, you can always ask.

I have things bubbling up within.

And I’m not sure if I will write them all down here, unexpurgated and uncensored, the bitter and the sweet alike.

I’m not sure I won’t weave them into something else, something fictional, instead.

I’m getting ready to send out another story. I have ‘status updates, please’ letters I need to write. I am aching for something and I want to go home and I am full up with things I need to say.

It’s probably just spring making me feel this way, unsettled and incomplete—all is coming alive again, and multitudes of creatures are pairing off, as they have for millennia. (And no, Chrome, that’s not misspelled. I checked.)

It snowed, today, and I wasn’t able to get to my second job; I am so tired of snow (most of it’s gone, down here in the flats; up on the hills it was 3+ inches sloppy wet and probably frozen by now). On the plus side of the ledger, I didn’t get killed by insane drivers or stuck in a ditch, so.

And now I go back to people whose lives are far more interesting than my own.

22 April