It's 3 AM in my hometown. 1 AM here. I'm not sure which one my mind is locked on right now. Part of me says that surely I must be on California time if I am still awake, but the part of me with sense says that I'm never asleep before 4.

Only difference from the usual is that tonight-and-this-morning I feel like storytelling.

My mind is absolutely abuzz. The last few weeks have been emotionally taxing, and yet thrilling in their own way. I want to compare it to being struck by lightening; I am pained and aching from the magnitude of my happiness. Being filled with a substance hotter than the surface of the sun has, surprisingly, left a mark on my skin.

I'm left wondering why this had to happen, and why physics cannot always follow the motions of the human hand.
I want to take this goddamn map and crumple it. I want to tear it up and place things where they should lie. I want to chew up the minutes and the longitudes-- I want to swallow them.

I'm a fucking voraphile. I can't comprehend shit unless I put it in terms of food. I have to eat the problem here, and then it will be solved.
Things get straightened out in the small intestine. Things get analyzed and digested and maybe then I can comprehend why cartographers made the mistake of writing down the length of a mile... of calculating how many of them lie between the hanging mouths of those hungry for a similar heart.

Angst. It's consuming me. But it will feel better tomorrow. Always does.
I don't claim that this current pain of mine is any more depthy than another. I just needed a place to put my thoughts, and for once a simple word document didn't seem to fit the bill.



Thanks for reading. I don't really need support as much as I need a sandwich or something. -_- Metabolism like mine needs munchies every four to six hours or my girlish figure starts to become the crypt-keeper's.



Somebody make me a god damn sammich.

Well, life is kicking my ass at the moment.

So much work is piling up and it all needs to be finished by next Wednesday... my closest friends are pulling their hair out over their own lives, and I'm feeling increasingly trapped in my own little bubble of existence.

Lawd, I'm fulfilling a stereotype by whining in a journal entry like this. But hell, gadda do it somewhere. And therapy hasn't been working out so well-- these meds I'm on are just making me too tired to move my lips.

Yep, I'll whine here.

I've been drawing a lot, but not producing anything useful. I just keep ending up with these shitty, meaningless things with the sole purpose of fulfilling a grade.

I wish I could crank out piece after piece like everybody else here-- hell, I'm having a hard time just creating a single character design. I'm coming up with them faster than I can sketch their mannequins.

Bah. Next on my plate is Issay, the effeminate Nuala-Sloth Bear hybrid. He's loads of fun to write about, but drawing his character design is SSDGHSLKGJHJKLDSGHKLJ.

After that there's Bitters the Springhaas, Dickie the ????, E the klipspringer, and Oryx the bearded, underbiting dragon.

.... fux. Too much stuffs. I wish I had a bigger head.

Alright, finally here and active again, and just glanced through old sketches to find something worth coloring. The bizzaro unicorn thing that I didn't like a month ago is now lookin' kinda cute.

So, brought him to life in a few hours last night-- hopefully this little guy can evolve into an avatar of some sort.

Maybe now I'll actually start extending out into the community here a little bit, 'stead of lurking... here goes!

Talked to my dear old therapist today about this whole 'vore' phase I've been going through since age 12. Was rather difficult to explain to her, but eventually we got through to each other, and we came to a crossroads I've never come to before.

The vore fantasy: for me, I love the idea of a lion devouring a gazelle. But she asked me which part I play in this fantasy. Am I the gazelle, being eaten and controlled by a stronger being? Or am I the lion, devouring something weaker, and supplementing myself with its flesh?

Complicated issue indeed, as I identify with neither in all honesty. I simply am attracted to animals when they eat. Hell, even a spider eating a grasshopper sends me into ecstasies. So maybe it should just be accepted that I just like it, the way 'normies' just like 'normal' things. Bizarre, hm? Serious, serious, serious...

I'm writing two stories to explore which of the two, if either, I represent. One called 'Grandmother' detailing the emotions of the devoured. The other called 'The Little Deer' detailing the emotions of the devourer. Surely while exploring these I'll be able to figure out which one I'm more drawn to.

String, out.