PS: I think I rock red eyeshadow.

Me: Spends an hour+ on a semi-Heian-esque modern makeup look. (I’m not doing the thumbprint eyebrows, sorrow — I went with a geiko-esque gradient instead.)
Someone: “I don’t like red eyeshadow!”
Me: “…well, that’s great, these are my eyes, not your eyes.”
Someone: “Yeah, I know, but–”

Here is where I wish I was the reincarnation of Shounagon-oneesama, not Murasaki Shikibu. She would’ve had something witty, cutting, and above all very charming to say. Murasaki would just internalise it stiffly and silently and then write about it in her diary later.

…as you’d have it.

Sigh.

I have many things I would like to say but always think the better of it, because there would be no point in explaining to people who would never understand. I cannot be bothered to discuss matters in front of those women who continually carp and are so full of themselves: it would only cause trouble. It is so rare to find someone of true understanding; for the most part they judge purely by their own standards and ignore everyone else.
So all they see of me is a façade. There are times when I am forced to sit with them and on such occasions I simply ignore their petty criticisms, not because I am particularly shy but because I consider it pointless. As a result, they now look upon me as a dullard.
‘Well, we never expected this!’ they all say. ‘No one liked her. They all said she was pretentious, awkward, difficult to approach, prickly, too fond of her tales, haughty, prone to versifying, disdainful, cantankerous and scornful; but when you meet her, she is strangely meek, a completely different person altogether!’
How embarrassing! Do they really look upon me as such a dull thing, I wonder? But I am what I am. Her Majesty has also remarked more than once that she had thought I was not the kind of person with whom she could ever relax, but that I have now become closer to her than any of the others. I am so perverse and standoffish. If only I can avoid putting off those for whom I have a genuine regard.

— かおりこお姉さま

BASED.

🅦🅞🅡🅓🄸🄿🄻🅈 #563
🌟 Length Score: 100%
💫 Rare long word found!
🚀 Letter Score: 66
🔗 Play Wordiply: https://www.wordiply.com
🎬 Today’s starter: 🄱🄸🅃

🅦🅞🅡🅓🄸🄿🄻🅈 #564
🌟 Length Score: 100%
💫 Rare long word found!
🚀 Letter Score: 65
🔗 Play Wordiply: https://www.wordiply.com
🎬 Today’s starter: 🅂🄾🄼🄰

If I can’t do anything else anymore, at least I still have a decent enough vocabulary! Ha ha…

well…I’m back.

I guess it would probably be better to keep writing, because…because? Proof of…something? So I don’t forget anything vital? I’m not sure.

[private] urgh.

please enter undomiel’s passcode to read this private message:


minor things, in list format

(oh, shush. shounagon-oneesama would approve.)

  1. I’m up to date on requested names! this is so much fun and is the real kick in the backside I needed to improve my Sindarin, which doesn’t come as naturally to me as Quenya (which is…odd, considering I’m a beginning Welsh speaker? brain and brain, what is brain?). iiiit also gives me a chance to babble on about two things I love, elves and onomastics. oh, the things that could have been, if only the world hadn’t ended…
  2. (when I say “I want to go home”, it includes all parts of my home.)
  3. I know this misery is merely due to the two (half-useless) benzos I had to sink over the past 48 hours, but oh my goodness I wish it would go away; I can’t afford to burst into tears again, I have no painkillers for the resulting headaches
  4. …I spent all day yesterday thinking it was Friday. welp.

pixel pixies

I have nothing of any remote interest to report, as I’m sure everyone is used to by now.

I made some elvish sprites!

Arwen: angel dress, riding outfit, farewell dress, dream gown


Galadriel: in Númenor, and in the 3rd Age

I’ll throw them up on the pixel site as soon as I’m finished redesigning it. Shouldn’t be too long, I hope.

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, and Where, and Why

Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

well, still. pretty good year.

Birthday was a birthday. Most people, including one immediate blood relative, forgot it happened. Oh well. Those who did remember are my favourites. So there!

I got an Eevee, a sleeping Kirby, socks, and a gardening set.  Good times! (No, not being sarcastic. It’s a lot more than I expected and I like all of it so much. ♥)

Trying to smush my writing and personal site together onto Neocities again, but I’m so mentally bombed out that inspiration’s lying thin on the ground at the moment. I’m so glad that this hit after clearing out my to-do list for the month, but it still sucks. I feel horrific and I can’t even distract myself with creation. Utter BS.

and never brought to mind

couple of songs for you, on this final day. (Also Spotify, for you astonishingly boring herberts who don’t understand the joy of mp3 collecting.)

Seeing as the beginning of this year was (literally) scarring, this evening I shall be doing very little and won’t tempt fate; coding for both business and pleasure, listening to some good tunes, setting up my various journals, and working on my solo D&D campaign. (Yes, it is possible.)

Stay safe tonight, beloveds. ♥

優しい夜にひとりうたう歌

It’s the season of grace coming out of the void
Where man is saved by a voice in the distance
It’s the season of possible miracle cures
Where hope is currency and death is not the last unknown
Where time begins to fade, and age is welcome home

It’s the season of eyes meeting over the noise
And holding fast with sharp realization
It’s the season of cold making warmth a divine intervention:
“You are safe here; you know now.”

It’s the season of scars and of wounds in the heart
Of feeling the full weight of our burdens
It’s the season of bowing our heads in the wind
And knowing we are not alone in fear,
Not alone in the dark…

Don’t forget, don’t forget, I love, I love, I love you.