Never Give Up The Joke

My tiny, tiny, sample-sized Spring break came and went. All in all, I only had Thursday and Friday off uni, and then Monday off my internship. There were clouds. Both meteorologically and psychologically, but alas, no war has ever been won by sitting idle in the rain, so... we soldier on.












Outside, the weather was manageable for the first time in, excuse the repetition, a really long time. My sister and I took a wonderful walk, singing korean songs at the top of our lungs (for better or worse... it's true no one can hear you in the woods) and taking pictures of interesting-looking moss. We ended up under ankle-deep in the mud picking up little ferns for my Terrarium Attempt #1. Can't say anyone was really impressed by my raw talent for miniature landscaping... and I was going to say oh well you can't be good at everything... but I guess I can't really point out anything I'm truly good at. Mostly I just float around the better side of reasonable.

Speaking of reasonable, I've been having these visions of clockwork and insect pins... and butterfly wings and taut little strings... and angular futuristic little creatures and I really like the idea of trying to make one. Somehow. I mean... there is no empirical evidence to prove that I wouldn't be able to. So I feel confident. Guess I'm going to be sculptor next.




Back inside, my sister baked to her heart's content, and I worked on a new shadow box. (not pictured because I got distracted by a sudden craving for mango ice cream, and also those cute little emoticons on Naver) On Sunday, my grandparents came over for tea, and we ate like... well, to stick to the word of the day, unreasonable people. We don't really celebrate Easter, but I'll take up any excuse for cake.

I guess all things considered, it was a small break, but enough to bring my focus back. I set my priorities straight and gave myself a few pep talks. Things may seem really dark and complicated right now, but they will get better. I will admit it, if the universe worked according to my wishes, I would have hit the pause button by now - for a tea break and possibly a paper bag to breathe into. But fortunately for everyone currently inhabiting it, it does not.

And so the world keeps spinning.
xx

Mind Theatres

Or Asexuality, Kink, Beauty, Control, & How I’d Like To Fit It All Together.

Hello there. I'd been meaning to write about this subject for a while now - but then this month's Carnival Of Aces rolled around, and it felt like the perfect excuse to actually do it. If you’re not familiar with the concept of a blogging carnival, it basically works like this: a host suggests a topic, people write about the aforementioned topic, and the entries get collected for easy reference. And if you're not familiar with the concept of asexuality... I'd like to maybe direct you to AVEN.

Also, I'd like to point out a few details, before we move on. This piece is about me. It's about my own experience as an asexual person with - somewhat - kinky sensibilities. These are individual ideas, thoughts and experiences, and they don't represent anyone other than myself.



Possible trigger warnings:
- Strong wording, as in “destroy” and “person” in the same line.
- Hypothetical situations – fantasies, if you will – where consent isn’t clear. Nothing graphic, nothing explicit, but I think the overall tone might just be worth the warning.

Calendar Fiction

Ah, Spring break. I'm only entitled to a few days this year (from today to... Monday), but I'll try to make the best of them. I've been dreaming of long walks with my dog and my camera, a little terrarium, a few hours with a cup of tea to finally finish my bone chapel book. And I've been dreaming of ten hours of sleep and not having to rush anywhere. But above all things, I've been dreaming of a shoulder that doesn't hurt when I use my arm for more than ten minutes.

Which is kind of a brilliant way to finish this post, because it's hurting right now and I have to go out to catch a train anyway. Also, I'm noticing... these photos were taken around Christmas, and three months later, ah, the weather hasn't changed at all. I guess it's still legitimate to post them now, then?

Have a great Thursday!
xx

PS - That's my dog, above. That's 8-year-old Bo, who's been with us for less than a year now. His previous owners couldn't keep him, and they were planning on putting him down. My father knew someone who knew them, the situation became somewhat known, and since we were thinking about getting ourselves a big dog to keep around the country house... we ended up adopting him. I won't say I wasn't scared of the possibilities, at first. I wasn't sure an 8-year-old dog who'd spent so much time in less-than-ideal conditions would adapt well to a new family and completely new surroundings. But he did, and it's been a wonderful experience, having him around. I mean, I'm only his second favorite person (after my dad... those two have the most amazing connection), but that's good enough for me. He's still my favorite dog. Even if he can't walk on a leash, or run in a straight line without bumping against things, or move up and down stairs with any semblance of grace, or play catch more than three times in a row...