Googling Shit Like "why Do I Feel Bad After Hanging Out With My Friends" And All Of The Answers Are Either

its crazy to me when people say they cant understand cat body language cause maybe its the ambigous neurodivergence in me but i find them easier to understand than people. they literally come with a rumble feature to let you know theyre happy. i wish i had that.

Btw I beat Watcher for the 1st ending! Can't wait to start on the 2nd, but instead of playing, I sat and drew some no-Watcher-spoiler doodle(?) to selebrate

Slugcats still cats. They can't overcome an urge to rest on a raise of the sun:>

They deserve some rest after what they came through

“what’s your aesthetic” it’s super niche actually it’s called clothes i like. hope this helps

having a resting bitchface is so funny because i'll be doing something relaxing, and really enjoying myself and my face will look like this

"you'll pay for this" - me as a cashier

i fucking hate my brain it wants to do so many things and it cant even focus on one of them. like its like "start an rpgmaker game!" "no, you should learn godot!" "what about your 3d models on blender??" "but you have that comic to work on!!" "you should also just draw more things in general" and im like SHUT UUUUPPP it feels like this

The poetry of the universe echoes endlessly around everything, etched into walls of chapels and doors of dungeons and light-seared into the backs of your eyes when you fall through the void. It's all in a language you can't understand and you aren't meant to learn, because if you did, you'd understand the terror of it. The wretched human soul that resides within your skin would cry out at the injustice of it.

The nether is not meant for you. Your blood boils and the sand you stand on cries out and grabs at your feet. It's just as lawless as the land above, but the evils of this world are as striking as a match. They do not shroud themselves in leaves and sea and earth, hiding from your human eyes. The nether is not meant for you.

But perhaps it wasn't meant for the creatures here, either. Perhaps the land turned them vile and bitter, instilled in them a taste for blood as red as the fire in which they were born.

You hold this creature in your hands now, one you found abandoned within the remains of its kind, and you can see the humanity in its withered white frame. The poetry that echoes around everything, that the universe is kind, and you are the universe itself. Within this creature is the part of yourself that aches to leave.

You can save a ghast and you can set it free.

Is this anything

Receive message, be too busy/tired/stressed to respond right away

???

It has been long enough that responding without preamble would now be Weird

never speak again.

Is this anything