Writer's Block: Snack attack
Milo
lilvi0r
What food would you never put in your mouth for any reason, and why?

Mushrooms: They are fucking mould, for Christ's sake! I have a deathly allergy to hazelnuts, yet I would rather have a hundred hazelnuts in my mouth than one revolting, stale-water smelling fungus. Yeuch.

A recent foray into RPS
Milo
lilvi0r
I've written a lot of slashy fanfiction, it works as something of an outlet for me and my rather perverse and unfulfillable desires. I never felt guilty about writing about the exploits of fictional characters, even when the original creators of those characters publicly spoke out about their dislike of our hobby. They aren't real. Anything I write is technically possible. The actors playing those characters (in fandoms based in TV and movies) might be uncomfortable, but they should be aware it isn't about them - it is about fictional characters (I am aware at this point that a lot of people ship actors - JaredPadalecki/JensenAckles, RobertPattinson/TaylerLautner - I am not one of these people).
So despite my wishful thinking about the secret relationships of real people, it never even occurred to me that it would be acceptable to write fanfiction about it. It was only a couple of weeks ago that my curiosity finally got the better of me and I applied for membership to the TGS group.
And then the floodgates opened.
I realised that RPS isn't so much fanfiction as speculation. And that it was no more wrong of me to imagine two celebrities engaging in erotic activities than it is for a person to imagine themselves getting off with someone they fancy. And so suddenly I'm not drifting off to sleep imagining what might occur in the next season my favourite US crime drama, or sci-fi space fantasy or whatever, but thinking about what might actually be happening right this very minute between people who really exist in the same world as myself. Maybe it's two politicians discussing foreign policy in a darkened study in Downing Street, maybe two friends going over the jokes for next week's topical comedy quiz show over a quite drink, perhaps there are three men somewhere joking and ribbing each other other over what cars are acceptable for men to drive, and which are just plain gay.
There is something somewhat stabilising about obsessing (okay, obsessing is way too strong a word, but I am at a loss for a synonym) about things that might be happening in The Real World; I know for a fact that I spend far too much time living in a safe little fantasy world, placing all my faith in people that are totally controlled by writers I share little commonality with.I can think about real people. If I trusted myself and pushed I could meet these people.
It is a relief to know that people, as opposed to characters, are going to be around as long as their mortality allows, and not snatched out of existance as the ratings for their respective shows dwindle and they are cancelled. Or the series of books/movies ends. Or the writer quits and someone else comes along and brutally murders the program.
So in a way this is not simply my first foray into RPS, but also my first sense of interest in something that is going on in The Real World.

Depression?
Milo
lilvi0r
I am slightly suspicious that I may be slipping into a rather apathetic bout of depression. It has been pointed out to me that I am constantly 'all doom and gloom', although as far as I am concerned pessimism is the safest option; when a pessimist is wrong it's okay, when an optimist is wrong it's generally not okay.
Other people have commented on my outwards sign of despondancy, but none of them have any idea how bad it really is. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't commit suicide - that would set a bad example for my brothers, and also would be rather selfish. However, I have been reckless, and am certainly not going to any lengths to ensure my longevity. Basically, I don't care if I die. I am not enjoying my life and it feels like an awful waste of time, I am severely irritated that I have to go to so much effort to get myself out of bed every morning to go do my pointless job when there is no end to justify any means. Some mornings I wake up bitterly disappointed that I didn't die in my sleep.
I'm drinking on an almost daily basis and I don't even remember when it was that I stopped caring about what that meant. On the plus side, my appetite has diminished in much the same manner as it does every time I sink into this mire of darkness. I know the chances are that this will pass in time, but I sort of hope it doesn't; this thick apathy is remarkably freeing. When one doesn't care about life and death, everything seems possible, and nothing matters.
One thing is for certain, I bloody well will not be taking any kind of medication for it.

Oh, and my back hurts.

My tweets
Milo
lilvi0r
  • Mon, 17:09: Poker night tonight, bring on those bullets...
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My tweets
Milo
lilvi0r
  • Sun, 17:38: A warning to anyone who suffers from Boredom Narcosis: the words 'spoon' only exacerbates the condition.
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Nothing on TV
Milo
lilvi0r
There is absolutely shit-all on TV, and I can't quite stretch my attention-span to take in a whole 45-minute episode of US crime drama. I'll have to pay a visit to my new favourite web-site where I can watch the 22-minute episodes of brit-coms I enjoy (www.seesaw.com). Ugh, EastEnders is on now and it is awful.
There wasn't a great deal of work to do today, but at least it was light when I drove in.
Oh yeah, I made a Twitter! No idea why, guess I was just bored.
Still haven't done a lot of writing, really should be getting on with it now, but I kinda find myself in want of some friends on here and I hear a rumour that people like to 'friend' folk who post on a regular basis.
So, here you have it, a practically pointless, empty post.
And I'm sure there was something I had wanted to say.

Halloween Party
Milo
lilvi0r
So, Halloween party last night... Wow. So. Much. Alcohol. There may or may not be photos. I got chatted up several times and proposed to twice. I may well have found the most ideal man in the world; cute, likes all the same movies and TV shows as me, agrees that as a country we are woefully unprepared for a zombie attack, and does tattoos for a living! IF ONLY I were interested in sex, or a relationship or even friendship right now. Furtunately for me my sister chose an apt moment to pass out from over-drinking, and I was able to make a hasty exit without divulging my phone number to anyone.
Discovered also that I love Limoncello. I mean REALLY love it. Seriously good shit.
Wondering about writing a Halloween themed fanfic, but not entirely sure which fandom to do... Starting work on some Black Books this afternoon, and gonna try to continue some Sherlock stuff, and might even venture into some Hot Fuzz. It will be interesting to see if I can write anything half decent whilst sober...
Work tomorrow; boo. But at least I have Schism to look forward to on Friday - another Halloween themed night. I've bokked a hotel for the night because I can't be arsed to try and make my way home pissed. Only changed half of the clocks in the house, so I keep confusing myself about what the hell the time is. All I know for sure is that I'll be driving home from work in the dark for the next few months.
I have actually made a positive (?) step towards making some LJ friends so I can ask for help with things like links and cuts and gifs and whatever.
Must get on with some writing. Oh yeah, have settled on my pseudonym for when I'm a professional author (muffled snorts of derision all round): L.C.Blackthorn, either that or L.C.Cassidy. I'll have to discuss it with my publisher (yet more head-shaking and snickering).
Lil

Gender
Milo
lilvi0r
So, shall we discuss gender issues today?
Wouldn't life be so much easier if there was a proper name for everything that was wrong with a person? On many occassions I have found myself wondering if I am transgender. Some days I hate the fcat that I have a female body so much that I feel like I'm wasting my life being a girl. Other times I go all out with the make-up and hair-styling and short skirts (Never heels though, no, no heels), and I look in the mirror and think 'damn, I'm hot!'.
And as far as sex goes... I can only do it drunk and with strangers. When I'm sober the idea of sex makes me feel physically sick; the partner doesn't matter, I could have the cutest guy in the world, and I would be horny as hell watching him get it on with another guy! But the thought of him being with me is thoroughly undesirable.
I pointedly refuse to be touched, or have anyone do anything that would remind me I have girl parts.
I cannot claim to be asexual as twink porn totally turns me on, and if I could find a guy (there's probably a man-whore somewhere) who would be interested in me dressing up as a boy, and maybe doing me like a boy, that would probably get me off.
I wish I could be a boy for a day or week or month, but I certainly wouldn't go for anything permanent. I wonder if there is a discussion board somewhere for this? Because I have no idea what to do about this besides continuing my sordid one-nighters in alley-ways and hotel rooms. I couldn't put another poor guy through the burden of my messed up psyche for the sake of a relationship.
Maybe I just hate being 'me'. Not many people like me; I'm narcissistic, arrogant, selfish and aggressive. I have no friends, even my family don't get on with me. Sad truth is that I don't think I really care, and I have no intention of changing myself for anyone.
So, let's say 'I hate myself' but I won't chnage because I'd hate myself even more for denying who I am.
And who I am is an angry, confused, sociopathic alcoholic.
Aces.
Lil

Where'd the happy go?
Milo
lilvi0r
Well everything was going fatastically, and then this afternoon I get this letter... Wait, let me start at the beginning- my life has been prgressing as I like it for the last few weeks; no boyfriend to worry about, plenty of money coming in etc, when suddenly a gum swells up and I require some severe dental assistance; by the time I get around to seeing said dentist the infection has died down but the compensation - eating on the other side of my mouth - has seriously fucked up a root canal I had done several months ago. Apparently a crown costs over 400squid. And if that hadn't made me sick enough, a letter suddenly turns up demanding over a grand from British Gas for a property I moved out of two years ago because I made the mistake of believing I was in love with some prick who didn't believe in paying bills. Basically he thought buying beer was far more important than paying bills and now somehow the people he owed money to have gotten hold of my address(???), and have suddenly given me seven days (4 from the date I received the letter) to come up with the money. I am speaking with Citizen's Advice on Monday, but until then there is noting i can do (short of my father's suggestion of hunting the bastard down and killing him). It is so not fair that I've just started saving towards getting a place of my own and suddenly all this shit flairs up. Almost drifting back towards the suicide idea. Currently I am working on making myself happy, but if this sort of shit is just going to keep on happening I may as well just jack it all in.
lil

general update
Milo
lilvi0r
So I'm single again. It's sad, I had the most perfect guy in the world, but at some point I just sort of stopped feeling and I felt it wasn't fair to keep stringing him along. I let him go and I honestly, seriously hope he finds someone who can love him and look after him in all the ways I couldn't.
Sappy stuff aside, it is actually kind of a relief that I don't have to worry about anyone but myself anymore.
The job is going well and aptly consuming my life, I'm starting to get noticed and hopefull commencing my own project within the month.
My writing has been well and truly neglected of late, and I fear the plots in my head are doomed to remain there, not just the fanfiction (it has now been months since I updated, and I've gone off the fandom I was writing), but also the original fiction that I ad secretly hoped would be my ticket to wealth, fame and general success. I think I need to incoporate it into my routine - routine is good, it makes me happy - that way maybe I'll be able to force myself to get the hell on with it. I do my best writing after midnight, normally when I've been drinking - although that IS most nights... And I only have the room to myself when my sister is away, and that is information not available in advance. Once I move out of this house it should be considerably easier to plan for writing sessions.
Rather a boring update, I'm afraid, but I felt something was better than nothing, and I spose this counts as a writing of sorts (deliberate misspelling of 'suppose').
Let's see how long it'll be before my next update.
Lil

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