That's When You Bust Out, "word" Synonym, On Google

Jashtober day 8: Tidal

The water pulls in and out...

That is how oceans work after all. I’m not going to regale you with an epic story told with far too verbose diction and a pension for self indulgent endings. What I will give you is a regalement of how to start your own life on the tides. Living upon a boat is not for the faint of heart. It takes sturdy legs, a strong stomach, and a touch of insanity in the brain. You have to learn to catch your own fish, because there’s no way in Davy Jones' locker, another member of the crew will share. It’s best not to start as a hothead. No matter how big you are and no matter how good of a fighter you are, there is always someone bigger and someone who’s a better fighter on your boat. It’s also best to ask a captain what their goal is in sailing before joining the ship. If they mention a whale, especially of the white variety, run. It seldom turns out well. Fishing boats are the safest bet, but they're also a dead boring choice and trust me lads, lasses, and lords, you don't wanna be boring. Now those hunting for some almost forgotten treasure are the perfect choice. Sure, there may or may not be the occasional mutiny, but danger is the spice of life. That's about it for living out on the seas. Oh wait, how could i forget. Invest in daggers. All right you scamps, get out there. I assure you it’s much easier than it sounds (after about 43,830 hours).

Writing stuff. why yes I did learn too many of these words from Chonny Jash, how'd you know?

I scream and scream and scream till blood pours out my mouth. I don’t care, I continue to scream. I scream till my head pounds and my eyes blur. The pain is immeasurable but it's nothing but drop in the bucket compared to why I’m screaming. So I scream till the world melts away, till all that is patternly and logical falls into dissolution and cacophony. I scream till I snap back into reality, where not a word nor noise leaves my raw throat. I want to scream till the pure and predictable melts into entropy. I want to scream till the world around me has no choice but become geocentric. I want to be catered to, but being dependent is far too terrifying. I know if I want help I need but ask but that thought is one unthinkable to me. Like an idea from a foreign system. I give advice I dare not follow, I preach what I would never practice.  My logos guides me to the easy and correct path. Yet my pathos dare not go out of fear of when we leave that path we shall no longer know how to clear a way for ourselves. I know I’ll break down eventually, hopefully my logos will get control over me before then but till then my mind will continue to scream into a mouth unable to project. 

Heart, mind, and soul au, but their just the 3 stooges.

@darrelsnumber1fanboy credit or whatever

And yet I don't get one 😔 /j

I guess this is a thing now as my friend asked for one too

Update, he made a blog. He's fallen in too deep now. No going back @darrelnumber1fanboy

I got one of my friends to match with me in Discord. Him as mind and me as heart, and I've never been happier

Drawing Mine and @gremlin-numero-uno (my wife) ponysonas :3 (WIP)

Update, he has officially fallen into the Chonny hole. He's listened to cccc up to haiku and we've been taking about the lore. And he is currently looking at the lyrics in the "Ship of theseus" album to figure out the story. Someone in my friend group actually cares about Chonny and it makes me so happy.

I got one of my friends to match with me in Discord. Him as mind and me as heart, and I've never been happier

Jashtober day 7: Moss

 I look upon this world and I see beauty. It is finite and it is easily defiled, but it is beautiful. A set of random events caused one single-celled organism to evolve and split into a system of complex webs and ecosystems. Each animal, plant, and bacteria rely on each other to prevent their lives from falling into entropy. I was formed from the cosmos. Perhaps from a dying star or a collapsing blackhole. Maybe even the big bang. Whatever it was has long ago left my memory. I’ve seen every dwarf planet and neutron star, but this– this is amazing. I learn of the humans’ fascination with space and find myself confused. They talk about space's vastness compared to the earth’s tiny nature in the grand scheme. I reply: the desert is large and the oasis small, but that doesn’t make the oasis any less brilliant. The simple and elegant greens and blues that twist and entwine. The water and greenery bring life to everything around it and in return the animals bring their own life to sustain the greenery . Much more interesting than the grains of sand we call the universe. As strange as the humans’ ideas may be, I can not help but find peace and familiarity within the little creatures. They’re like microcosms of myself. Loving and hateful. Hopeful and nihilistic. Elated and bored. A being of gorgeous inspiration and disgusting shame. They see the same love in nature as I do. Well, some of them do. They might even be better than myself. They've created things I wish I could claim to be of my hands. Noises into music, shapes into art, and symbols into writing. I’ve collected as much of it into myself as I can and it’s wonderful. To be human is to be everything that is the oasis, right on the cusp of finding the mysteries in the desert. I suppose I would be those mysteries. I hope they never find me or any other of those mysteries. I am not grand, not as grand as the moss that grows on the trees. Not as grand as the fungi sprouting from the dew. Not as grand as flowers that sprout despite a prison of concrete. Not as grand as mammals that manage in the water. Not as grand horrors that creak in the darkness. Not as grand as the animals that once ruled, forever entrapped in rock. Not as grand as burrows that keep warm during the cold months. Not as grand as the web perfectly crafted by a spider. Not as grand as each painting, ballad, and sonnet I intake. Not as grand as this oasis. Perhaps I shall learn from the humans and start a journal. First entry: legend of the moss.

Dammit, there's a reason I don't do poetry /lh

Jashtober day 12: Haiku

I like Chonny Jash

Both covers and originals 

Haikus are easy

Mr. Mind

[Versions w/o text below!]