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Damia Ray boosted

I wanted to express something, but I don't know what it is. A rough lump of something. A gust. I need a saxophone and dark sunglasses. Maybe a camp fire. A bus ticket. One wet boot.

Damia Ray boosted

Any former Adobe Bridge & Photoshop users that have successfully switched to using open source products? I'd love to hear what's changed in your workflow and what software you're using nowadays!

Damia Ray boosted
Damia Ray boosted

_The discerning will suggest kintsukuroi,
but this is DIY_

He told me
it's a fine start to be human,
with heart and grit.

I took a deep breath,
pulled out the sandpaper,
filing away the sharp bits
jagged edges,
splinters,
finer grit
finer

hoping that in all this work
all the polishing
wearing down
gluing together
somehow
somewhen

My heart might be
Whole again.

[This is what happens when it's late, and @Algot's words meet @tanweerdar's "whole". ]

Meta, writing.exchange 

.exchange

I love this corner of the Fediverse, but I hadn't realised 500 characters is an instance limit rather than a Mastodon limit. I'm struggling to work out how to work within the limits and appropriately tag/CW, since both eat into the character count. I'm trying to view the restriction as a writerly challenge, but how do others deal with this?
Do you blog and link? A long thread? Something else?

The air is smoky tonight
Like someone put
branches too green
underdeveloped kindling
not caring if they
burn brightly or
burn out
too fast
just
that
they
burn.

Didn't even get to toast marshmallows
enjoy the companionship of fire
the warmth of the hearth.
Instead I have a headache
Try to figure out
how to breathe deeply
find clarity.

Tomorrow, maybe I'll sift through the ashes, see if there are any seeds left. Maybe I can nuture them to grow again.

(Bit like being a parent really)

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Damia Ray boosted

SMOKIN' [ash] 

my old man lived in smoke
the exhaust of the mines
the darts in the glovebox
in a feat of dexterity that
perplexed me as a kid
he'd ash his cig against
the cracked-open window
while doing 90 on the backroads
the world's worst-smelling magic trick
the dash coated in dirt and ash
his Firebird a miniature Pompeii
a record of habits good and bad
I was scared the embers
would engulf the car
like they did the house
and make all I had in this world
smell like a spent pack of duMauriers

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Damia Ray boosted

Old stories kept children on safe paths or threatened gory ends for simple disobedience.

New stories suggest that children question the paths, and celebrate sensible amounts of disobedience.

So as an avid reader of stories both old and new, I was a little uncertain how to handle the fairy ring that appeared in my kitchen.

Calling the landlord was a secondary thought. I placed some old shoes in. Then one foot, just to see what would h

#TootFic #MicroFiction #Writing #TerylsTales #UrbanFantasy

I was going to go there, but was worried I’d get sniffed out. ⚱️

Damia Ray boosted

Fire 

A spark goes off.
Hands in prayer clutching
Strands of keratin.
Consequence of
Lashing out,
Head-thrashing
From long nights of digit
Pressing temples churning
High-tempered resentment
Thinking back on regrets of
Paying exhausted attention
On flames that never gave
You real mutual attendance.
Ancient temples burning
Sacred fires lead your
Higher-self turning
From physical descension.
Inflamed thoughts run hot
Signs of catching smoke
Signals in the air
Head ready for
Ignition to take hold.

Damia Ray boosted

Welp, it finally happened:

I typed "duck" on my phone—with the intention of referring to the waterfowl—and it autocorrected to "fuck."

I now believe in the impossible.

Damia Ray boosted

The sentence was a dragon,
with shiny words for scales
once writ took life upon itself
falling from my head,
in sunset skiping water.
in an angry thunderheads.
in that sentence, to this day, remains
reflection and horror and dread

Discovering the existence of @fedivision is oddly exciting. If you're thinking it sounds like Eurovision for the Fediverse, you'd be right!
I'm not a huge Eurovision fan (but not not a fan, either, if that makes sense), but this seems like fun.

Damia Ray boosted

The cats followed, silent and almost unseen, but the young merchant was keen eyed enough to notice.

It was unnerving... Were the rumors of a witch living in this town true? A witch who kidnapped unwary travelers?
A witch whose wit and wiles and wicked ways were thoroughly depraved and carnal.

The merchant ducked into a dark tunnel, pausing midway.

"Take me to your mistress," she said as the cats caught up, "She sounds... fun."

#TootFic #MicroFiction #Writing #TerylsTales #Caturday #Fantasy

Damia Ray boosted

Bees, butterflies, birds
and beetles:
tiny, iridescent,
busy.

Trail walking

Damia Ray boosted

Our brains literally evolved to NOT pay attention to boring stuff

We are forced to do boring things because that keeps other folks wealthy

The reason why you want to do hobbies all day is that you were supposed to be an artisan

Artisans were once seen to be the clearest sign of civilisation, not a burden

We have enough food now that all humanity could master the lyre

But we have chosen coin

and coin does not sing

Damia Ray boosted

A tiny poem for your Friday

Dawn 🌄

The early bird
Does not need
To get the worm
Sometimes it is enough
Just to see the light
And to sing

🎶🐦🎶

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