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We weep

For at the altar of dreams

We are freed


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By the light, oh

deliverer sea deity it knew everything there was to know about the moon, every moon on every world

can’t let Stranger Things go

As you may or may not know, I wasn’t very happy at how Stranger Things queerbaited its audience. In the past week or so, I’ve decided to do something with my annoyed feelings. That is, I started writing a

Place where the demons go

I tried to ignore this big question and instead scowled at the lightning creature’s head and wide hips and demanded my mechanical arm back

Not sure where to start? How about…

Pretty poetry

A story on mental health and Dissociative Identity Disorder

A witch, rebellions, and guilt of tyrants

Articles on autism and writing tips

Flickers of fallen people haunt this death mage