I’m not trying to write a tailored suit. I’m trying to write boot socks, warm from the dryer. There’s an endless autumn in me, scenting my thoughts like campfire smoke. I write for the weather I know. From: Field Guide to the Haunted Forest by Jarod K Anderson, part of the Haunted Forest Trilogy
The days when it's hardest to find something to love about yourself and your world are the days when it's most important to try.
Doing the work of mental health can feel like magical thinking. It's having faith in countless little rituals of wellness, walks and rest and self-talk, things that may seem small or silly or unrelated, and investing them with will and hope to nudge the nature of our realities.
The vulnerability of making and sharing things is like reaching a hand beyond our little circles of firelight. Yes, we are opening ourselves to the world, to unknown dangers, but whatever fear is in that cannot outweigh the potential joy of being known, of meaningful connection.
I have a new book coming out in four days, but who's counting? (Me. I'm counting.)
I hurt today. Oh well. I'm going for a walk and if it doesn't help, oh well. I'm not going to panic-buy anything. I'm not going to harm myself in frantic flight toward distraction. I'm going to take pride in every moment I can hold my pain gentle and inert. My own quiet victory.
Business Idea: Biodegradable googly eyes I can put on mushrooms and clumps of moss while I walk in the woods.
Your hearth glows. In its warmth, people share stories. Your walls echo with them, marking out times, places, lives and deaths, loves and losses. You endure as the world around ever changes. You Are the Tavern theothertracy.itch.io/you-are-the-...
a solo game of stories and lives, woven through the heart of the town