Brain: I don’t wanna write anymore. I wanna read something.
Me: Alright, I guess we could do that for a bit. What do you wanna read?
Brain: Don’t know. Wanna read.
Me: There’s a lot to choose from. How about this?
Brain: No. Not that. I wanna read a thing that fits these exact specifications.
Me: Uh, alright, wow. Those are really exact specificatio-
Me: …
Me: Are you telling me you want to read the exact thing we were writing?
Brain: YES! I wanna read that. Let’s read that.
Me: …
Me: I don’t know how to tell you this, but we have to write it first.
too real
my date: so, what are your hobbies?
me: uhh,,,I like to read
my date: oh, what do you read?
me: *thinks of all the smut and fanfiction I read until the early hours of the morning* anything, really. Anyway, let’s look at the menu I’m starving-
Being a writer is lying in bed at two am, waiting for sleep, only to be met with two new characters, clarity for a plotline, and an entire scene concept for a novel that isn’t your current project.
Sexual orientation: People are pretty and I am scared of all of them.
Pansexual Monster Girl 