RePaint Your Lips

Why do we hedge ourselves in? Trapping ourselves in teeny little boxes until we cannot even lift our heads to grow toward the sun, see the sky, or feel our own soul?

Why do we believe the lies swarming in our faces, plugging our ears until we cannot hear our own voices?

The way to know life is to love many things. – Vincent Van Gogh

We are more than one thing, one emotion, one desire, one purpose, one joy.

We don’t need to wonder why we are hollow. Why we are suffocating.

Pick up your own paintbrush, pen, instrument, keyboard, whatever – and repaint, rewrite your own vision.

Stand up. Throw your box in the recycling bin. Live.

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Signed with My Thumb Print

Check it out, dudes!

My first painting, ever!

 

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It was SO MUCH fun!! But I had no clue what I was doing. My sister, who is going to college to become an art therapist, led me through the process, showing me what to do as she painted her own.

Get out of your comfort zone and do something fun! If you’re one kind of creator, try another way of creating.

Go have fun!

My Reality

Is pretty goofy sometimes. Intense other times. But I’m still a whole being. Wholly me, no matter how many contradictory moods I exist within.

We are born to feel a spectrum of emotions, become a spectrum of moods and current motivations and dreams.

Never feel you have to exist within one box. There are no boxes, except the ones societal rules create for us.

But we are infinite flurries of majestic and chaotic energies rushing in and out of the forms we choose.

We are flourishing in madness, we are taming our own sanity, create when the world tries to destroy.

We are not only good enough, we are more. We can be goofy and sexy, serious and humorous, spontaneous and responsible. Interested in animals and racing, dancing and botany, literature and painting. We never have to pick a box.

Be you. And if you is a little weird, so be it.

Because goofy filters are SO much fun. 🤣

Free Shadowy Story, Chapter by Chapter

You know how I started this blog years ago, talking about the story I was working on?

And then I stopped writing that one, began writing a new one, then gave up on that one too?

I’ve become tired of being a writer who gives no stories. So I started writing a story and I’m going to release it chapter by chapter on YouTube.

 

I’m hoping this constant commitment to keep writing something I’m having a lot of fun with, and hopefully getting feedback as I go, will get me to fight off the depression and anxiety and get on a regular basis of writing.

Plus I’m excited to see what you think.

 

Here’s what the story is about:

Numi is a storyteller living in a town with a secret. She doesn’t know that though. All she knows is it’s been a shoddy week. When her mother dies, a restless spirit begins tormenting her and Numi’s home is broken into. Numi has to wonder, did the ceremony to bind her mother to the other side work? If not, did it let something into the world of the living? She has no idea of the struggle between evil and, well, better that now depends on her finding answers. Maybe Numi will need to do more than find answers…

 

I threw that blurb together while uploading the video, so I will probably change it around as we go.

I got the idea after putting up part one of a bedtime story that I whispered for ASMR purposes.

I’m messing around with the idea of releasing a written version to my $3/month patreon patrons. I dunno.

And in case you’re wondering what the title of the story is, I welcome you to listen to, “Numi of Nysius”.

Let me know what you think. Good beginning to a story?

Help Me Create My Next Bedtime Story Episode on YouTube

We all know I’ve been having a hard time getting to my writing.

Whether its depression, anxiety, sleep deprivation causing hallucinations, or inability to justify to myself working on writing stories when I have no money due to being unemployed once again… It’s been an uphill battle to get to a point where I am writing more than a few days out of the month.

So I’ve begun creating a whispered bedtime story on my YouTube channel, in hopes of keeping my creativity fed and breeding.

The first installment was pretty good for coming up with a story on the spot and then immediately posting it for the world to see. Or, hear, rather.

But life kicked me where it really hurt and the second part of the story suffered from exhaustion.

 

What I’d LOVE to have happen is for you to become my patron and spitball ideas with me on how to proceed with part 3 of the story. You throw me ideas and we’ll pick them apart together and you just might spark my exhaustion into early retirement.

Let me know what you think should happen next, what creatures you’d enjoy joining the cast, and what you’d like Loska to do about her craving for a certain prize the djinn require from her.

Become my patron and let me know. 😍 I’m excited to see what we can create together!

Click the following link to join me.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/help-me-create-24869136

 

Don’t worry, becoming my patron doesn’t cost an arm, leg, or your unborn first child. 😀

Becoming my patron means you’ll be helping me keep creating in a world that doesn’t think creative types should be paid for their contributions to planet earth. It literally can be as little as $3 a month. Literally.

There are 4 different ways to become my patron. Become my Cohort in Crazy, my Messy Mystery Mate, Beta Buddy, or Pal Beyond the Pale. For more info on each option of becoming my patron – and all the perks that come with it – click the following link.

 

And if this isn’t your thing, no worries. Stay tuned for the next episode of my bedtime story. (And if that’s not your thing, then don’t worry about any of this. 😊 Continue on being awesome.)

I Know Better

And yes, I remember you.

Slinking through the corridors at night while no one was watching.

I saw you.

I knew you.

 

I remember the air in your veins breathing past my lips.

Filling every heartbeat until my teeth burned.

They didn’t know you had a secret.

Or where you went.

I knew you.

 

They say you don’t exist.

 

By Daphne Shadows

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Empty Tongues

Hushed footsteps
Is there such a thing?
The carpet could be screaming for all we know.
Our socks could be praying for mercy.

We act like everything is trying to silence us
We blame doors, padding, muzzles
Why bother?

It’s not like many are trying to speak up
Any longer
We have families, you see
People to hurt
Dreams to set ablaze

They have us quite choked on fear
Our volume turned to mute
Our choices turned to disregard
Don’t they?

They’ve taken our vocal cords
Buried them in the cellar
While they feast on Just Corpses

No one behind the curtain
No one soundproofing our eyes

But I bet that’s the carpet’s fault
Hushing our footsteps.

 

By Daphne Shadows

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