I decided to become an artist when I was about your age. I liked to draw so much, I almost hated to go to bed. And then one day, all of a sudden, I couldn’t draw anything. Everything I drew, I didn’t like. I realized that my art up to then was a copy of someone else, things I had seen somewhere. I decided I had to discover my own style. It’s still difficult. But then, the results… They seem to be a little better than before. It’s nice to be a witch, isn’t it? I like the idea - to be a witch, to be an artist, to be a baker… It’s an energy bestowed by the gods or someone, right? Though thanks to it, we do have to suffer at times.
so i was outside my house when i heard someone yell “GET OFF MY LAWN LAURA YOU PIECE OF SHIT” and i was thinking “oh man what did laura do” and then i looked down the road and turns out the lady was yelling at a deer that was trying to eat her flowers.
This is a long one, because it involves a growing escalation of actions. TLDR at the bottom. Some terms are translated because I don’t live in an English-speaking country.
We moved houses last year, to the ugliest in the street. The previous owners must have loved Mondriaan, because the front was red/blue/yellow in windowframes and door. One paintjob, many thankful neighbors and several months later, I get an invitation to a voluntary “Collective of inhabitants”, the terms read like an opt-in HOA that you can never leave. A long list of restrictions, and no benefits? No thanks.
It’s been nine months now since aliens have colonized Earth’s moon, but still no contact. After repeated attempts to communicate with them, it’s very apparent they are ignoring Earth and simply carrying on day-to-day living as our new neighbors.