Hey guys and gals friendly reminder that Game Grumps are NOT the creative team behind Dream Daddy. The creators are completely different people. If you have qualms about Arin and Dan and their involvement in the game I have good news for you: They didn’t write it! They aren’t directing it! All they are doing is voice acting and publishing the game.
Again: CREATORS OF DREAM DADDY ARE NOT ARIN AND DAN OF GAME GRUMPS.
If you ever get the chance to see a production of Ragtime, I could not further urge you to go. I am shocked by how poignant the story remains to everyday life after quite a few years since its original incarnation. It must be one of the most well-written shows of all time, if not the number one smartest piece of theatre.
“It was the music of something beginning, an era exploding, a century spinning in riches and rags, and in rhythm and rhyme.
Quick shout to all the writers out there that are too afraid to pursue that itch in their soul to write the thing. My friend, write the thing. We are our own worst critics. We writers are our own cruelest foes.
But someone, somewhere, will love what you make. They will read your words and their toes will curl and they’ll fall in love with your story because where you only see flaws and imperfections, they see the sun rising on an entirely new world that you have crafted for them. A whole new place for them to go to; to touch, to see, to feel.
Don’t be so hard on yourself, love, because someone out there will read what you write and be grateful that you shared it.
the redbirds must have their due. oh you, wicked children who come close to the banks of the river, do you not know what waits for you? do you not hear them coming, wading, reaching out with blood red hands to tear you asunder, to eat you whole? is this not the fate that awaits you for your terrible deeds? the redbirds must eat. they must eat. they must feed.
THE FINAL BOSS: A CHILD-EATING BOOGEYMAN
A couple of years ago, I had a dream about a pretty frightening scenario concerning a race of strange creatures with origami birds for heads called Redbirds, who lived in the water and snatched any children who wandered by to eat them alive. My brain comes up with some pretty cool (but scarily weird) concepts, what can I say!
I could imagine these origami killers (see what I did there) as a sort of grand antagonist in a short story - perhaps a mother needs to find a way to kill them for good before they set their sights on any other child who comes too close to the water…
We interrupt your regularly scheduled war tactics meeting to give you Obikin married couple teasing.
This is what I fucking signed up for! This is good quality banter right here and I could read an entire book of just their silly little conversations with each other. He called it navel-gazing, what a cheeky little shit.
It just seems straight out of a fic, you know? Probably because the fic writers for this fandom are fucking great honestly. But the little break to go “meditate” before they head off to battle. Like fuck, I can just imagine them finding a quiet little room, turning to face each other, and just touching their foreheads together. Anakin has his hands on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, pulling him into the embrace. He falls into it, allowing his own hands to find Anakin’s waist as they try to burn the feeling of each other’s warmth into their memories. Just in case one of them doesn’t make it back.
depression is one of those things that once you acknowledge you have it (which i only did, like, last year) it’s not a thing that sort of dissipates. i was silly to think that when i was a kid i cured myself of my depression (even though i was diagnosed with it at 10) but all i really did was juxtapose myself against my mum and think, “well i’m not that bad.” and as there’s hardly any nuanced conversations about what depression is, and what it feels like to be in the midst of it, it’s very easy to characterize it as something that is inexplicable, inorganic and alien.
so much has happened in 2017. from my mum’s recent suicide attempt, to the publisher i was working with going under, to the Muslim ban, to feeling like i’m suffocating under the exhaustion of working and feeling like i’m not getting anywhere… i am finally looking for ways out that don’t include some external factor. like: i’ll be happier if i get this job; or if i make this much money in this month i’ll be ok. everything comes back to feeling productive but truth is, i haven’t been feeling productive for this year’s entirety. most days i can’t even write, and i don’t want to because it feels so hard.
as a creative, how do you balance happiness (when you have a proclivity to/for sadness) without it being attached to your creative worth, and value of your work. the reality, for me and many others, is that i can’t self care without money—but then, how do you make money if you’re a creative? you have to create! and if you work another job, you feel so depleted to actually create… it’s an endless cycle.
i keep saying to myself, i just want it to get easier. but i’m not entirely convinced it ever does. and that’s overwhelming.