(Non-art-or-writing stuff lives over here.)
Also please check out my comics: Reliquary and Patchwork and Lace
One day, I want to look deeply into this whole literary abuse of the second person thing, where writers (especially white writers, especially male ones) seem really fucking confused about the usage of ‘You’ vs. “I/Me”.
When I started writing in elementary school, it was TOTALLY out of a desire to be published and successful! I wanted an audience and accolades and movie deals! It was in response not to ‘the wondrousness and humiliation of being alive’ (what the fuck pretentious bullshit even IS that?!) but to having been told stories and wanting to tell them back.
I was never fifteen and standing beside a river in wintertime. That was YOU. You are not me.(via moniquill)