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I really am at a loss.....
Posted 10 years ago...as to how to tell people goodnight when I sleep during the day.
"Good night! Er...good morning. But. I'm going to bed uh....good...sleep?"
"Good night! Er...good morning. But. I'm going to bed uh....good...sleep?"
Battling Giants
Posted 10 years agoJust some awesome music I found and felt like sharing.
How y'all doing? I hope it's going alright.
Something interesting, for the first time, my youngest brother referred to me as "sis" when I was bidding him goodnight. That little squirt. Warmed my everlovin heart. <3
Much love,
Red
WHAT FUCKIMG AWFUL KIND OF SITE IS THIS
Posted 10 years agohttp://www.woot.com/offers/pursuit-.....ref=cnt_wp_3_6
A SITE THAT ONLY HAS THE ONLY THING I'VE EVER WANTED AND IT STOPS EXISTING IN 2 DAYS
UGH
UGHHHHHHHH
I HATE Car Insurance companies (please read)
Posted 10 years agoAnd this is why, from my friend puzzle.
"Ok so here is the thing....Well first off I hate that I have to do this because I always said that I never would...but I have run out of ideas.
On May 10th my girlfriend and I were in a car accident. http://imgur.com/a/zhBCq By fault of the other person. we were hit on our drivers side rear wheel and my car was not drivable from that point on. I called Allstate ( the other persons insurance) and filed a claim . Everything went smoothly for the next week or so. Then I stopped hearing from anyone once my car was taken to Service King. I had to keep calling and harassing Allstate and Service King both to get some answers. it's now 2 months later and both places have different stories on what's going on. Now here's where it gets to the part I need help with. while Service king and Allstate have been arguing with each other Enterprise(the place I got my rental from ) which was getting paid for by Allstate charged ME 100$. I needed that money for groceries and to pay some bills. I'm not bad with money AT ALL but this just hit me out of nowhere. so please if any of you can help even in the smallest I would greatly appreciate it. I will also do a free sketch for you as show of my appreciation.
My papypal is basslinejunkie1485[at]gmail.com
Thank you very much "
Her journal is here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/6856299/
"Ok so here is the thing....Well first off I hate that I have to do this because I always said that I never would...but I have run out of ideas.
On May 10th my girlfriend and I were in a car accident. http://imgur.com/a/zhBCq By fault of the other person. we were hit on our drivers side rear wheel and my car was not drivable from that point on. I called Allstate ( the other persons insurance) and filed a claim . Everything went smoothly for the next week or so. Then I stopped hearing from anyone once my car was taken to Service King. I had to keep calling and harassing Allstate and Service King both to get some answers. it's now 2 months later and both places have different stories on what's going on. Now here's where it gets to the part I need help with. while Service king and Allstate have been arguing with each other Enterprise(the place I got my rental from ) which was getting paid for by Allstate charged ME 100$. I needed that money for groceries and to pay some bills. I'm not bad with money AT ALL but this just hit me out of nowhere. so please if any of you can help even in the smallest I would greatly appreciate it. I will also do a free sketch for you as show of my appreciation.
My papypal is basslinejunkie1485[at]gmail.com
Thank you very much "
Her journal is here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/6856299/
When I went to sleep this morning....
Posted 10 years ago....gay marriage was illegal in Texas.
When I woke up it was legal across all 50 states.
What a time to be alive.
When I woke up it was legal across all 50 states.
What a time to be alive.
The real reason why people go silent
Posted 10 years agoWhat's the phrase? Hash philosophical? That's almost certainly wrong I assure you, but whatever it is, allow me to indulge.
Also this is really long. Fair warning. Feel free to back out.
I'm often plagued by the question of why I bother with social media sites the way I do. Not because I don't like using them. I lurk often. I almost always read journals, look at the art, etc. But when it comes to socializing I realize I've been.... skimp. I don't respond to a lot of comments. I often leave Skype conversations without a proper goodbye (which is rude of me and I apologize to those who have experience it with me). And the number of social gambits I've started and drifted away from are numerous. Weasyl. Twitter. FA. DeviantArt. Generic writing forum X, Y, Z, and so on and so forth. Even the simple act of returning a goddamned text message or phone call is some grand effort.
So uh. What's the big deal? Suddenly, this isn't just about online silence. This is about my ostracizing everyone from my life. Chopping my once long and heartfelt conversations down, down, down, to half bored responses, nods, and grunts.
I have plenty of things to say. I really do. It's just that they are not things I want to say. They aren't things I want to represent myself and my being. They way I appear and feel. It's not that I don't want to bother people with existential crisis #2326563. It's really a sense of denial.
I don't want to talk about my depression, because I don't want to be depressed.
I don't want to talk about my loneliness and sadness, because I don't want to be lonely and sad.
I don't want to talk about my anger, my struggle with addiction, my emotional pains, because these are not thoughts I want to bring into being and substance by talking about them.
I have plenty to say about them. I think about it all the goddamned time. Especially lately. But I don't want to talk about them because I do not want them to be any more than errant thought obsessions that happen from time to time.
But they're not errant. They're not occasional. They're almost all the time. One anxiety over another. Circular thoughts and endless worries. Certainly, I am not the only one. And to anyone nodding their head at this, no, you are not the only one either. But you and I both know that it does jack-shit for the fact that the feelings are there and they're eating away. And they don't easily leave. Maybe, there's distractions from them. But they don't go.
I guess, in general, I just don't know what to do with myself, and it makes me feel so very, very hopeless. I think I understand -why- some people commit suicide, now. That very real pain that comes from abject hopelessness and terror at the realization that we're more or less here to entertain ourselves. That's a very scary thought. And to follow that line of thinking, I certainly understand why people follow religion, addictions, and even noble causes like humanitarian work. Those are ventures that entertain the mind and give purpose to being (for better or for worse. the people who truly define themselves by drugs are few and far, but let me assure you, they are every bit terrifying and heart breaking as you've been led to believe.)
To be clear, I am not suicidal. I think about it, sure, but like the rest of this, it's just dark philosophy. Call it vanity, I'd just rather not go like that. I mean, if it came to that, I would just walk out the front door and never come back. If I can't find what it is I can concern myself with, perhaps witnessing others in their ventures will eventually lead to an understanding or realization of who, what, and where I am in this world.
I mean, obviously I'm Red, I'm a driver, and I live in Texas. I write a few things here and there. I listen to music. I talk with friends and sometimes I'm funny, weird, helpful, and intelligent. I meet new people. I indulge myself sexually, either by myself or with a willing partner. I eat different and new foods and I travel to places I haven't seen.
I wish I could be content with that. It just feels like all going through the motions with none of the conviction. A permanent tourist to my own life. Like going to a vineyard to take off your socks and shoes to stomp grapes in the wine press. That's not your life. It's fun, sure, but after six months your wondering why you haven't left the vineyard and visited somewhere else entirely. I don't think it's necessarily selfishness or ungratefulness to want to be content in life. To want something different. At least, this version of life where we aren't fighting for basic survival as a necessity. I think it's okay to want that simple feeling of being okay. To just BE without over thinking it to death.
So, the final thought that scares me most. The one that makes me angry, upset, sad, manic, crazy. The realization that the eager pursuit of contentedness and satisfaction in one's life can come to a grinding halt because you are no longer able to do so. That you settle for sheer purpose in one form or another, a phantom going through the motions because you've got nothing better to do. It's something, and it really is the best you're going to get. Images of angry, frowning senior citizens shuffling across their front porch to sit and stare at the road for no reason come to mind.
And that, I think, is the precise moment when the imagination and motivation to move and jump and scream and laugh for no goddamned reason other than because we are here and alive--that sense of eagerness our childhood bestowed within us finally breaks. And it's not with a bang, but with a wimper. And it starts as nothing more that a little sadness. A little bit of loneliness. And a sense of discord and dysphoria with one's current life.
And these are the things that I don't want to talk about, but think about all the time. The things that don't leave much room for socialization. The things that don't leave room to want to participate in other people's lives, and allow them to do likewise to me. I don't want sympathy. I don't want to be cheered up or distracted. I don't want someone to tell me it will be alright. I don't want people to agree with me.
I think it just needs to be said. To be made real.I've lost that sense of denial. Now the real fight starts. The fight to feel alive in a very real way.
For me, I think I'll start with reading more. I have a book shelf full of books collecting dust, and so far as I can recall, it used to be the one true pleasure I had in life before I fried my attention span with chemical distractions.
I don't know where I'm going from here, but... but I think I feel a bit more hope about it, wherever this needs to go.
I'm going quiet for awhile, but I don't think you need to worry.
~Red
Also this is really long. Fair warning. Feel free to back out.
I'm often plagued by the question of why I bother with social media sites the way I do. Not because I don't like using them. I lurk often. I almost always read journals, look at the art, etc. But when it comes to socializing I realize I've been.... skimp. I don't respond to a lot of comments. I often leave Skype conversations without a proper goodbye (which is rude of me and I apologize to those who have experience it with me). And the number of social gambits I've started and drifted away from are numerous. Weasyl. Twitter. FA. DeviantArt. Generic writing forum X, Y, Z, and so on and so forth. Even the simple act of returning a goddamned text message or phone call is some grand effort.
So uh. What's the big deal? Suddenly, this isn't just about online silence. This is about my ostracizing everyone from my life. Chopping my once long and heartfelt conversations down, down, down, to half bored responses, nods, and grunts.
I have plenty of things to say. I really do. It's just that they are not things I want to say. They aren't things I want to represent myself and my being. They way I appear and feel. It's not that I don't want to bother people with existential crisis #2326563. It's really a sense of denial.
I don't want to talk about my depression, because I don't want to be depressed.
I don't want to talk about my loneliness and sadness, because I don't want to be lonely and sad.
I don't want to talk about my anger, my struggle with addiction, my emotional pains, because these are not thoughts I want to bring into being and substance by talking about them.
I have plenty to say about them. I think about it all the goddamned time. Especially lately. But I don't want to talk about them because I do not want them to be any more than errant thought obsessions that happen from time to time.
But they're not errant. They're not occasional. They're almost all the time. One anxiety over another. Circular thoughts and endless worries. Certainly, I am not the only one. And to anyone nodding their head at this, no, you are not the only one either. But you and I both know that it does jack-shit for the fact that the feelings are there and they're eating away. And they don't easily leave. Maybe, there's distractions from them. But they don't go.
I guess, in general, I just don't know what to do with myself, and it makes me feel so very, very hopeless. I think I understand -why- some people commit suicide, now. That very real pain that comes from abject hopelessness and terror at the realization that we're more or less here to entertain ourselves. That's a very scary thought. And to follow that line of thinking, I certainly understand why people follow religion, addictions, and even noble causes like humanitarian work. Those are ventures that entertain the mind and give purpose to being (for better or for worse. the people who truly define themselves by drugs are few and far, but let me assure you, they are every bit terrifying and heart breaking as you've been led to believe.)
To be clear, I am not suicidal. I think about it, sure, but like the rest of this, it's just dark philosophy. Call it vanity, I'd just rather not go like that. I mean, if it came to that, I would just walk out the front door and never come back. If I can't find what it is I can concern myself with, perhaps witnessing others in their ventures will eventually lead to an understanding or realization of who, what, and where I am in this world.
I mean, obviously I'm Red, I'm a driver, and I live in Texas. I write a few things here and there. I listen to music. I talk with friends and sometimes I'm funny, weird, helpful, and intelligent. I meet new people. I indulge myself sexually, either by myself or with a willing partner. I eat different and new foods and I travel to places I haven't seen.
I wish I could be content with that. It just feels like all going through the motions with none of the conviction. A permanent tourist to my own life. Like going to a vineyard to take off your socks and shoes to stomp grapes in the wine press. That's not your life. It's fun, sure, but after six months your wondering why you haven't left the vineyard and visited somewhere else entirely. I don't think it's necessarily selfishness or ungratefulness to want to be content in life. To want something different. At least, this version of life where we aren't fighting for basic survival as a necessity. I think it's okay to want that simple feeling of being okay. To just BE without over thinking it to death.
So, the final thought that scares me most. The one that makes me angry, upset, sad, manic, crazy. The realization that the eager pursuit of contentedness and satisfaction in one's life can come to a grinding halt because you are no longer able to do so. That you settle for sheer purpose in one form or another, a phantom going through the motions because you've got nothing better to do. It's something, and it really is the best you're going to get. Images of angry, frowning senior citizens shuffling across their front porch to sit and stare at the road for no reason come to mind.
And that, I think, is the precise moment when the imagination and motivation to move and jump and scream and laugh for no goddamned reason other than because we are here and alive--that sense of eagerness our childhood bestowed within us finally breaks. And it's not with a bang, but with a wimper. And it starts as nothing more that a little sadness. A little bit of loneliness. And a sense of discord and dysphoria with one's current life.
And these are the things that I don't want to talk about, but think about all the time. The things that don't leave much room for socialization. The things that don't leave room to want to participate in other people's lives, and allow them to do likewise to me. I don't want sympathy. I don't want to be cheered up or distracted. I don't want someone to tell me it will be alright. I don't want people to agree with me.
I think it just needs to be said. To be made real.I've lost that sense of denial. Now the real fight starts. The fight to feel alive in a very real way.
For me, I think I'll start with reading more. I have a book shelf full of books collecting dust, and so far as I can recall, it used to be the one true pleasure I had in life before I fried my attention span with chemical distractions.
I don't know where I'm going from here, but... but I think I feel a bit more hope about it, wherever this needs to go.
I'm going quiet for awhile, but I don't think you need to worry.
~Red
Livestream for writers? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS
Posted 10 years agoSo apparently Google Docs will update in real time if you are on a PC.
If you'd like to catch me in action, I am currently working on a piece of nonsense that involved a few of my characters. General violence and insanity. https://docs.google.com/document/d/.....it?usp=sharing
Love,
Red
If you'd like to catch me in action, I am currently working on a piece of nonsense that involved a few of my characters. General violence and insanity. https://docs.google.com/document/d/.....it?usp=sharing
Love,
Red
2 Dollar a page Commissions, a Raffle, and RP Log Special!
Posted 10 years agoHeya! How goes it? I hope you all are doing FINE AS HELL! A quick note, if you're not needing (or affording) a commission, why not plug this for me? If you comment back here then I'll stick your name in the proverbial hat and write you a free 5 page story! It can have whatever you want. How enticing. I mean, you could even ask for a comic script! Or maybe a story written BACKWARDS and OUT OF ORDER like Quentin Tarantino on amphetamines! It's your game!
Just copy and paste this entire journal, plus the subject line. Also you must be a watcher so I suppose that's a very important thing to mention.
Onto the commission deets!
It's pretty simple actually. 2 dollar a page writing commissions. Dirty, non, whatever. I need money but hey! I feel like working for it. I'd do drawing but I've got no hardware for it. You know the whole. Computer crash thing.
Rules:
-Stories are done in 12pt Times New Roman, single spaced, indented paragraphs. So there will be no empty lines with no text here. Allowances will be made for dialogue, which is usually heavily indented.
-Three page minimum.
-Page bonuses. At 5 pages (10 dollars) you get an extra page. At 10 pages (20 dollars) you get two extra pages. At 15 (30 dollars) 3 pages. See the pattern? And so on up until a 5 page bonus at 25 pages (50 dollars).
-You can use my character! I also have some stock characters. 2 shark girls, a country horse fella, a mangy acid dropping coyote, a hellhound guy, and a super gay blue and pink dragon guy! I can also make up a random one based on a few keywords.
-If content is something that might be considered a Hard Alternative fetish then I may opt to post it to an alt account, and I may also opt to not use my personal character.
-If there's something unexpected that arises, I may have to amend these rules.
RP Log Specials!
I know some of you RP. So here's the deal. If you can find those ol' logs and drag them up, I will convert said RP log into a smoother narrative, even down to changing it to first person. Due to their ease, I will give a significant discount depending on the amount of RP log to the amount of pages you are wanting.
Okay?
OKAY!
My Paypal email address is lonestarcoyote [at] hotmail [dot] com
If you have any general questions, ask them here or PM me!
I LOVE YOU ALL! <3 HAVE A LOVELY DAY!
~Red Savage
PS: Because I am a huge nerd I will also give discounts to anything Mad Max themed. -w-
Just copy and paste this entire journal, plus the subject line. Also you must be a watcher so I suppose that's a very important thing to mention.
Onto the commission deets!
It's pretty simple actually. 2 dollar a page writing commissions. Dirty, non, whatever. I need money but hey! I feel like working for it. I'd do drawing but I've got no hardware for it. You know the whole. Computer crash thing.
Rules:
-Stories are done in 12pt Times New Roman, single spaced, indented paragraphs. So there will be no empty lines with no text here. Allowances will be made for dialogue, which is usually heavily indented.
-Three page minimum.
-Page bonuses. At 5 pages (10 dollars) you get an extra page. At 10 pages (20 dollars) you get two extra pages. At 15 (30 dollars) 3 pages. See the pattern? And so on up until a 5 page bonus at 25 pages (50 dollars).
-You can use my character! I also have some stock characters. 2 shark girls, a country horse fella, a mangy acid dropping coyote, a hellhound guy, and a super gay blue and pink dragon guy! I can also make up a random one based on a few keywords.
-If content is something that might be considered a Hard Alternative fetish then I may opt to post it to an alt account, and I may also opt to not use my personal character.
-If there's something unexpected that arises, I may have to amend these rules.
RP Log Specials!
I know some of you RP. So here's the deal. If you can find those ol' logs and drag them up, I will convert said RP log into a smoother narrative, even down to changing it to first person. Due to their ease, I will give a significant discount depending on the amount of RP log to the amount of pages you are wanting.
Okay?
OKAY!
My Paypal email address is lonestarcoyote [at] hotmail [dot] com
If you have any general questions, ask them here or PM me!
I LOVE YOU ALL! <3 HAVE A LOVELY DAY!
~Red Savage
PS: Because I am a huge nerd I will also give discounts to anything Mad Max themed. -w-
Passing it on. Help a friend in need. (Please signal boost)
Posted 10 years agoI think there comes a time when circumstance turns around and it's time to help someone else.
vaerjo Is a wonderful person who could really use some help right now. He's a gentleman. A scholar. And a kindred soul. His only means of transportation, work, and shelter is broken down. I talk to this person very often and it's a joy to know him. Hearing that he's in such need like this does nothing short of break my heart. He is the last person on this planet that deserves any bad luck. It'd be nice if we could give him some good luck this timee around.
His go-fund me is here: http://www.gofundme.com/utf7qk4
His journal is here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/6734395/
And here are some words.
Life in the world is a challenge indeed. We all have our trials and tribulations we must go through and many of us try and deal with our issues ourselves. But sometimes doing things alone doesn't always pan out. Asking for help is always ok.
I have been homless for a good while and have been practically living in my vehicle for shelter. I stay with people who are kind enough to open their homes, but not wanting to overstay my welcome, I usually move on.
I work as a driving courier delivering what needs to be delivered around San Francisco, CA and to supplement my money I also do art on the side in the form of online commissions as well as odd jobs for friends and people I can help.
Recently my vehicle has broken down. The engine is shot with a broken crankshaft and damaged pistons; although not beyond repair the cost to repair it is above the car's value and ultimately not worth it.
My job as a courier is a well-paying job and it keeps me in communication with others, food in my mouth, and clothes on my back and I can't afford to lose it.
As a driving courier my means of conveyance and shelter is gone.
With no car I have no shelter and can't even work to make the money to fix the problem nor purchase a reliable replacement.
No Car=No Work=No Food and Shelter
In short I am in dire need of help and any donations would ultimately help to keep me off of the streets.
My goal is to purchase a "new" and reliable used car.
Thank you for any efforts.
~Red
vaerjo Is a wonderful person who could really use some help right now. He's a gentleman. A scholar. And a kindred soul. His only means of transportation, work, and shelter is broken down. I talk to this person very often and it's a joy to know him. Hearing that he's in such need like this does nothing short of break my heart. He is the last person on this planet that deserves any bad luck. It'd be nice if we could give him some good luck this timee around.
His go-fund me is here: http://www.gofundme.com/utf7qk4
His journal is here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/6734395/
And here are some words.
Life in the world is a challenge indeed. We all have our trials and tribulations we must go through and many of us try and deal with our issues ourselves. But sometimes doing things alone doesn't always pan out. Asking for help is always ok.
I have been homless for a good while and have been practically living in my vehicle for shelter. I stay with people who are kind enough to open their homes, but not wanting to overstay my welcome, I usually move on.
I work as a driving courier delivering what needs to be delivered around San Francisco, CA and to supplement my money I also do art on the side in the form of online commissions as well as odd jobs for friends and people I can help.
Recently my vehicle has broken down. The engine is shot with a broken crankshaft and damaged pistons; although not beyond repair the cost to repair it is above the car's value and ultimately not worth it.
My job as a courier is a well-paying job and it keeps me in communication with others, food in my mouth, and clothes on my back and I can't afford to lose it.
As a driving courier my means of conveyance and shelter is gone.
With no car I have no shelter and can't even work to make the money to fix the problem nor purchase a reliable replacement.
No Car=No Work=No Food and Shelter
In short I am in dire need of help and any donations would ultimately help to keep me off of the streets.
My goal is to purchase a "new" and reliable used car.
Thank you for any efforts.
~Red
Yeah been quiet. How bout that weather?
Posted 10 years agoBoss sent me to Houston for three weeks. Some hard work. But it's winding down.
Crazy weather. Got a tornado warning while driving. Yeesh.
How's y'all?
<3
~Red
Blarrrrgh. PLEASE tell me you've been doing better than me.
Posted 10 years agoTalk about a kick in the pants rough month. As it turns out, just because I'm MAKING more money doesn't mean I'll HAVE more money if I do a shit job of saving and spending. I found myself scrambling at the last second and I've taken some extremely difficult jobs in the past few weeks to make up for it, and it's definitely stressed me out. Also, I wasn't as regular as I should've been with my medication, which led to a lot of angst and depression and dysphoria etc. But hey! Shit's back on track! Work isn't slowing down exactly but I'm adapting and getting my head back in the right head spaces.
That said, how are YOU doing? So many new people! And so little content posted. Needless to say I've been in a bit of a slump. I'm trying to find the source! When I do y'all be the first to see the new stuff. <3
Love y'all!
~Red
That said, how are YOU doing? So many new people! And so little content posted. Needless to say I've been in a bit of a slump. I'm trying to find the source! When I do y'all be the first to see the new stuff. <3
Love y'all!
~Red
What's you Twatter--I mean Twitter?
Posted 10 years agoI'm 2 miles north of Marlin Texas with a blown tire and I'm bored as hell. I know yall have Twitters. Cough em up so I can be nosy and see what you seem worthy for the 140 character affliction.
How -NOT- to pull a Lupine Assassin (Also, Internet! Yay!)
Posted 10 years ago1. Do not blow donation money on shitty art (or any art at all)
2. Do not blow money on cons
Usually I'm pretty semi-regular about buying art, but it occured to me the other day that I really can't do that in any sort of good faith! Seems like a bit of common sense. And common decency. It'd be like a slap to the face to everyone who helped, yanno? So I've put an official 6 month pause on any sort of art purchases or character auctions. Marking this month, April, as the first month.
I just want y'all to know your money was put to good use! I'm well settled into my house and loving it. I also have internet connected for fairly cheap, and I've been able to get my own cellphone for work and all. I'm really working on this whole independence thing, and I don't think it'll be too long before I can officially claim as such. I suppose now it's only a matter of time of getting my own health and car insurance.
Other than that, HI. HOW Y'ALL DOING? What you been up to? I've been terribly slow about responding to messages. A spot of depression, a spot of work weariness, etc. I love driving but it's a pretty mentally wearying job. You know how you can kind of zone out at certain jobs? Yeah no you can't do that when driving. That's kind of a bad idea.
I've been curious about welding, but I'm on contract so I need to stick this out for a few months. But. Welding man. I used to love doing that back in highschool. Something about the sweat, sparks, and the brutality of it was all very organic and satisfying. And also a good friend of mine works welding and she kind of inspires me to try bigger and better things. (Deo if you are reading this YOU ARE AWESOME)
Oh and I took a picture of myself. This is what I look like. http://imgur.com/EI2EwCE.jpg
That is all.
Love,
Red
PS: How to sing Darude-Sandstorm
༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ DUDUDUDUDUDUDUDUDUDU
2. Do not blow money on cons
Usually I'm pretty semi-regular about buying art, but it occured to me the other day that I really can't do that in any sort of good faith! Seems like a bit of common sense. And common decency. It'd be like a slap to the face to everyone who helped, yanno? So I've put an official 6 month pause on any sort of art purchases or character auctions. Marking this month, April, as the first month.
I just want y'all to know your money was put to good use! I'm well settled into my house and loving it. I also have internet connected for fairly cheap, and I've been able to get my own cellphone for work and all. I'm really working on this whole independence thing, and I don't think it'll be too long before I can officially claim as such. I suppose now it's only a matter of time of getting my own health and car insurance.
Other than that, HI. HOW Y'ALL DOING? What you been up to? I've been terribly slow about responding to messages. A spot of depression, a spot of work weariness, etc. I love driving but it's a pretty mentally wearying job. You know how you can kind of zone out at certain jobs? Yeah no you can't do that when driving. That's kind of a bad idea.
I've been curious about welding, but I'm on contract so I need to stick this out for a few months. But. Welding man. I used to love doing that back in highschool. Something about the sweat, sparks, and the brutality of it was all very organic and satisfying. And also a good friend of mine works welding and she kind of inspires me to try bigger and better things. (Deo if you are reading this YOU ARE AWESOME)
Oh and I took a picture of myself. This is what I look like. http://imgur.com/EI2EwCE.jpg
That is all.
Love,
Red
PS: How to sing Darude-Sandstorm
༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ DUDUDUDUDUDUDUDUDUDU
Arrrrrgh phone broke!!
Posted 10 years agoDropped my old 4s into a bucket of cleaning detergent at work the day before last. It seemed to work and then gave out on me early this morning. Dang it!
So I went to the benefactor/overlords at ATT and basically said "I've got no money. Give me a phone." So they gave me the 5c for .99 cents and for the first time in my life I am caught in the clutches of the dreaded 2 year plan. But it was unavoidable, really. I need my phone and that's that. For work, friends, family. I never knew how dependent I was on it until I realized I had actual business to take care of!
Ah well. How goes it? Same old shit? Century Link still can't find my house. So still no broadband. I'm getting less and less sleep but hopefully it won't reach Fight Club levels. I'm surprisingly functional on just 4 hours! Also I ate a salad today so I'm feeling confident over that.
If you know me irl feel free to hit me up for my new number.
Love y'all! Hope y'all have a wonderful day.
~Red
So I went to the benefactor/overlords at ATT and basically said "I've got no money. Give me a phone." So they gave me the 5c for .99 cents and for the first time in my life I am caught in the clutches of the dreaded 2 year plan. But it was unavoidable, really. I need my phone and that's that. For work, friends, family. I never knew how dependent I was on it until I realized I had actual business to take care of!
Ah well. How goes it? Same old shit? Century Link still can't find my house. So still no broadband. I'm getting less and less sleep but hopefully it won't reach Fight Club levels. I'm surprisingly functional on just 4 hours! Also I ate a salad today so I'm feeling confident over that.
If you know me irl feel free to hit me up for my new number.
Love y'all! Hope y'all have a wonderful day.
~Red
Well balls
Posted 10 years agoOh what in the fresh fuck. I just blew a tire. Just went POP and I know I checked that sucker before leaving. Looked fine.
Alas. I get to sit on my butt for a couple hours while the tire guy shows up.
The flat was on the trailer. Front, inside driver's side tire. Just -pop- and the truck went wobbly. Look back and I see sparks flying from the tread shredding up.
Ahhhh shit happens. Bound to happen sooner or later. So what's up y'all? How's your day going? My work day just just started. Lol. Hope yalls turned out a bit better!
Love,
Red <3
Alas. I get to sit on my butt for a couple hours while the tire guy shows up.
The flat was on the trailer. Front, inside driver's side tire. Just -pop- and the truck went wobbly. Look back and I see sparks flying from the tread shredding up.
Ahhhh shit happens. Bound to happen sooner or later. So what's up y'all? How's your day going? My work day just just started. Lol. Hope yalls turned out a bit better!
Love,
Red <3
I dream all night
Posted 10 years agoI dream all night. I found out that this isn't normal about a few years back. Apparently the average is about 4 to 6 times. Duration of dream notwithstanding, I can recall my most fitful nights of rest seeming like a week. If I sleep hard and solid I only have a couple. But if I'm waking up constantly, I guess that's the memory bank clicking on for a split second, just enough to catch those small, nonsensical images and store them until morning. One night I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, and I didn't take any pills. Every time I woke up I wrote down something about the dream I'd awoken from. When I woke up, I had more than twenty separate phrases written down. At least four of them simply said I DIED.
So I don't sleep well and I dream a lot. Usually its not a big deal. I'm not on sleeping pills or some shit but melatonin and ZZzquil or whatever helps a lot. But so does being exhausted. And ever since I started driving a truck, I've had plenty of time to be drop dead tired. Arriving home to my empty two-bedroom and asleep before I hit the bed. Anyone in Texas need a roommate? My only request is that you don't mind having a six foot tall transwoman trucker with a penchant for psychedelic and desert rock as your roommate. I swear I don't bite. And no, I won't try to play dress up with you or ask you if you'd fuck me. The worst I'd do is ask if you'd like to play videogames and drink beer. Oh, and ask that you're somewhat quiet during the day. I run night shift. It's not so bad, except when it is.
Last night was bad.
Three nights ago I was sent up to Dallas to shuttle milk tankers back and forth between Schepps dairy processing and Oak Farms. It's off of Dolphin road, that ghetto industrial area where boarded up houses are waiting to be bought out for more parking space, if only the other five or so crack heads on the block would give up their places. Shuttling sucks but it pays good. Two-fifty a night, but it's twelve hours of jumping in and out of busted ass semi-trucks, hooking them up to fully loaded tankers, and hauling them over four lanes of inner city road. Over the scales. To the agitation bay where the samples are taken. And then to the unloading bay. Bring the empty back. Repeat twenty or so times.
I did this for two nights in a row. I thought I would be able to drive the next night no problem. I was wrong. I was in a sleeper cab so I figured it wouldn't hurt to stop for a nap if I needed to. An hour into the drive I was already nodding off. It was almost midnight. Truth be told, I was tired as hell, and the four hours of sleep I'd managed during the day had done me no good. I've only moved in and black out curtains are still on my "to-buy" list.
I'd passed the rest stop and I remember vaguely thinking, "Damn. I should've stopped there." I blinked and when I opened my eyes a red little hatchback was blaring its horn on my driver's side. I was over the dotted line, and I just about damn near shoved that car off the road. I jerked the wheel back and swore as fifty thousand pounds of milk swung from side to side in the smooth bore tank. I warily (and wearily) watched my side mirrors as the tanker rocked back and forth on the tandems. I was damn lucky I hadn't flipped. Hauling tankers is rough like that. So I decided, fuck it. I need sleep. I've got plenty of money on the check already. And an extra seventy bucks ain't worth my life. A Dallas run was short enough to do two in one night. But not last night. There was no possible way.
Dark as it was, tired as I was, I didn't pay any mind to where I'd pulled over. I took the Millsap exit off of interstate 20, right after the rest stop I'd missed. To my grateful surprise, there was a wide strip of shoulder that seemed to pull off into a small drive of sorts. But the drive was gated and I saw no house. In fact, thinking back, I didn't see anything. Just some trees and what I thought were some old electrical boxes, though thinking back, that didn't make a whole lot of sense. Just a bunch of electrical boxes jutting up from the ground with no house or business in sight. That's not how it works.
It didn't register though. I was already on the verge of passing out. I eased the Kenworth over and made sure my tanker was off the road. I turned off my head lights and yanked back on the air brake release. The yellow and red knobs popped out and the hiss of evacuating air shot up dirt from underneath the truck. The fan clicked on, but was quickly off once I cut the engine. The night wasn't exactly cool but it wasn't hot. Very neutral. Womb like. I wouldn't need AC or the heater. I cracked the windows and wormed my way past the back seat and fell onto the mattress.
I wasn't planning on stopping. I had no pillow or blanket. Just my jacket on. But it shouldn't have made a difference. I was dead tired. Tired tired tired. I'd had good sleeps in worse situations. I'm a tall lady. I've been cramped and uncomfortable before. But this wasn't bad, as far as sleeping scenarios go. I'd slept in this truck before.
The first thing I dreamed was that I'd wrecked the truck. And it was odd. For a moment I thought I'd already slept and woken up. I was going to Dallas, just as I was, but I was on the access road, looking for the lane that jumped back on the highway. I watched and watched for it and it never came. I glanced back to the road in front of me and there was no road. Red and white striped signs with yellow chevrons on them. DEAD END in big black letters. I hit the brakes. of course it was too late. The front of the truck smashed through the guardrails. I felt with dazed horror the glass embed in my face and forehead and the sign slice through my chest and toro. The whole truck cab pitched to the left as the road dropped away. And instead of a steep embankment, there was nothing. It was a falling dream. I fell, and fell, and fell.
I jerked and blinked. Back in the truck cab. I stretched, turned over, mumbled vague disparaging comments about stupid dreams, and fell back asleep.
I was on a wagon. Not a little red one, but the old horse and wagon set up. I was sitting between two older folks with blank faces. There was nothing there. It wasn't that I don't remember--the faces were smooth, blank. They stared straight ahead. One was male and one was female. I just got the feeling they were my grandparents, but they certainly weren't mine rail thin and tall as they were. Their clothing was old. I felt the faceless grandfather put his hand on my back. I knew what he was going to do before he did it, but there was no time to scream or stop he. He lifted and shoved me forward. I landed in front of the cart and rolled, and looked up just as that narrow, wooden wheel rolled over my head. I felt and heard the POP. And where anyone might have been long in the black veil that is death, the dream still had me looking. I rolled, twitching, and watched as the horse and cart kept going. The horse was black. The wagon was black. The tall and old man and woman wore black. And on the ground around me was black, spewing liquid that was my blood.
My eyes opened. I thought I was awake. I rolled onto my back and stared up. A strange sense of claustrophobia took hold of me, which was strange. The truck cabin's roof seemed higher than it ever been. it stretched up in the darkness, lit only by vague panel lights. But that's when I look around and knew why I was feeling claustrophobic--there were no panel lights because there was no front half to the truck. Smooth, padded walls surrounded me on all four sides. And they were closing in. I was shoulder to shoulder and the ceiling was receding further and further away. I didn't scream because it already felt like I had used up all my air.
I woke up, for real this time, with a start. Confused, I flailed in the sleeper for a bit before I realized that the night had warmed considerably. I was sweating. After a few breaths, I opened the vent on the side and took off my jacket and used it as a pillow. The night was still silent. I could hear only the occasional car on the highway.
The dreams came rapid fire. Interrupted with only a toss and a turn before I would fall asleep again. The dreams were particularly violent. And many of them set in very old time eras, though a few dotted the modern age. A banquet hall fire. A restaurant stabbing. A dream in which I honest to god thought I was dying of a heart attack. I woke up with a start each time, yet again and again I forced myself to try and forget. I needed sleep, goddammit. I needed sleep so I could finish the remaining three hours of work the job required of me. So I could just go home and sleep on my real bed. I never should've left home to begin with. I should've slept in and done an early morning run. It was too late though.
The last and final dream I remembered most clearly, as always when I sleep. I was in a white dress and I held an infant in my arms. It was peaceful at first. Now this may seem strange to you, but as a transwoman, a dream like this is emotional in a deep way. I can't have my own children born of my own flesh and blood. Not as a traditional mother may, anyhow. But then and there in that dream I knew this was my child and it filled me with a warm feeling of love and motherhood. I held the baby girl up to my chest as I breast fed her, the front of my dress pulled down, and I knew it was a girl. And I called her Anna. She looked up at me with big brown eyes. And you never question dreams. You just go with it.
A man with an old brown cowboy hat and boots walked in. They clomped over floor boards. He took off his hat and nervously held it down in front of him. He brushed dust off its brim.
"Jenny, it's time to let go."
I looked up at him in confusion. "Let go of what?"
"It's time to let go Jenny. She's gone. She's been gone for a long time."
I stared up at him in slack jawed in confusion. His name came to me without a single doubt.
"Micah, what on earth are you talking about dear?"
He dipped his head down and shook it. When he looked back up, his eyes were hollow with sadness.
"Anna's dead, Jenny. Anna's dead and we need to let her go. We've got to bury her. You need to let go."
I scoffed, and chuckled, shook my head. "That's ridiculous. Anna is right here don't you--"
I looked down. The beautiful brown eyed baby girl in my arms was no more. She was a sickly pallid great with bulging, swollen eyes yellowed with jaundice and rot. Worms crawled in her empty mouth, squirming in and out, over and onto my breast and nipple that I was futilely forcing in its mouth. I felt them crawl over my chest---I thought I could feel them inside. And as I gasped to render a scream, for the upteempth time that night, Anna's tongue pushed forward and out, falling in a tumbling squirm of worms as a massive, single meal worm worked its way out of her throat, opened its jaws, and latched onto my breast, piercing either side of it.
I didn't just jerk awake. I leapt awake. I sucked in bellows of air as I smashed my head on the upper console. I saw stars and my ears rang as I fell back into the sleeper bed, moaning and groaning, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I'll be honest, I didn't give about a rat's ass about the string of dreams as much as I did for the new knot on my skull. I've had weird fucking dreams before, okay? Ain't no big deal. Ain't nothing to 'em. I've always had an over active mind. I remember dreaming at a young, young age about holes that went down to the center of the earth, and falling into one only to find myself passing all of my family members who had managed to cling to the walls.
But as far as scary shit went, I was admittedly unnerved. Rubbing my head, cursing and swearing, I stumbled to the front seat, grabbed the cigarettes off the dash, and used one hand to pull one out and light it. (Bad habit--I know. Even worse with HRT.) I sat that and nursed the cigarette and my head for a bit, if one could forgive the play of words. I stared and blinked at the bright morning sun. The day way cool but it was beginning to heat up in the cab without the breeze to flow in through the cracked windows. I turned the key and hit the window button and looked right, and then left as the windows rolled down.
I did a sort of double take without moving my head. I noticed the gate first. The old, chain wrapped gate that didn't have a lock on it. Just a chain wrapped round to keep them together. But when I finally registered the rest of the lot and trees behind it, my jaw dropped. I gawked. A long, way ward sign crooked sign with one side fallen on the ground spelled out the name of the property in which I'd spent my night in front of.
GRASSDALE CEMETERY
I laughed. It was easy too. It was day light, after all. Here's what it looked like. I was facing East with the rising sun, so I know. Shoddy photo. http://i.imgur.com/D23ktnF.jpg Old, a bit eerie, but nothing that a bright morning sun wouldn't keep from being outright creepy. In fact it had a nice sense of calm and peace to it. The morning was cool and I decided, hell. I'll go for a morning cemetery walk to clear my head. This is the kind of stuff I live for when truck driving. The strange, the unordinary, and the different.
I hopped out and stretched my legs and tossed my cigarette onto the gravel. (Bad habit, I know. Everything I do about smoking is bad.) I stamped it out and walked on over and bent backwards to work the kinks out of my back. And like I had every right to be there, I unwrapped the old chain from the gate and swung it open. It swung easily. With a kind of ease that made me wonder if it was because it was well used and kept up, or rarely used and undamaged.
The first thing I noticed was that the cemetery was old. Real old. Some tombstones were nothing more than well weathered, oblong rocks with edges smoothed away. They sat crooked and flat. And they weren't lined up in rows. They were scattered and unorganized. Sloppy. And some of the graves had concrete covers on them that were long ago cracked and broken, grass growing up between them. Some of the dates on the tombstones dated back to early 1800s. Some were as new as 2009. I didn't know if it was a private family cemetery or what. But the difference startled me, particularly for such a small grave yard. It couldn't have been more than thirty yards across.
The last thing on my mind was nightmares. The last thing on my mind was any sense of supernatural happening or eeriness. How could I? The day was beautiful. The breeze felt good on my back. My morning cigarette had calmed me well. And well... I suppose you could see where this is heading.
Near the back corner of the graveyard, an effigy of an angel with both wings broken off sat kneeled down in prayer. Below it, on the square base in faded carving, were four lines of text and number that threw every bit of good feeling out the window at eighty miles an hour. A whine of tension started up in the back of my head, and by time I started running back to my truck, my ears were ringing with adrenaline. I made sure to chain that gate back shut. I picked up my cigarette butt from the ground and shoved it in my damn pocket. I made sure to leave every goddamned thing just as I had fucking found it. I disengaged the parking brakes before the truck was even started. It was rolling backwards by time the engine was cranked and I'd thrown it into first gear. I stood on that gas pedal as those four lines ran through my head. I lit into another cigarette.
Just four lines.
ANNET
BROWN EYED ANGEL
BORN TO JENNY AND MICAH
MARCH 1900 - MAY 1900
~Red
So I don't sleep well and I dream a lot. Usually its not a big deal. I'm not on sleeping pills or some shit but melatonin and ZZzquil or whatever helps a lot. But so does being exhausted. And ever since I started driving a truck, I've had plenty of time to be drop dead tired. Arriving home to my empty two-bedroom and asleep before I hit the bed. Anyone in Texas need a roommate? My only request is that you don't mind having a six foot tall transwoman trucker with a penchant for psychedelic and desert rock as your roommate. I swear I don't bite. And no, I won't try to play dress up with you or ask you if you'd fuck me. The worst I'd do is ask if you'd like to play videogames and drink beer. Oh, and ask that you're somewhat quiet during the day. I run night shift. It's not so bad, except when it is.
Last night was bad.
Three nights ago I was sent up to Dallas to shuttle milk tankers back and forth between Schepps dairy processing and Oak Farms. It's off of Dolphin road, that ghetto industrial area where boarded up houses are waiting to be bought out for more parking space, if only the other five or so crack heads on the block would give up their places. Shuttling sucks but it pays good. Two-fifty a night, but it's twelve hours of jumping in and out of busted ass semi-trucks, hooking them up to fully loaded tankers, and hauling them over four lanes of inner city road. Over the scales. To the agitation bay where the samples are taken. And then to the unloading bay. Bring the empty back. Repeat twenty or so times.
I did this for two nights in a row. I thought I would be able to drive the next night no problem. I was wrong. I was in a sleeper cab so I figured it wouldn't hurt to stop for a nap if I needed to. An hour into the drive I was already nodding off. It was almost midnight. Truth be told, I was tired as hell, and the four hours of sleep I'd managed during the day had done me no good. I've only moved in and black out curtains are still on my "to-buy" list.
I'd passed the rest stop and I remember vaguely thinking, "Damn. I should've stopped there." I blinked and when I opened my eyes a red little hatchback was blaring its horn on my driver's side. I was over the dotted line, and I just about damn near shoved that car off the road. I jerked the wheel back and swore as fifty thousand pounds of milk swung from side to side in the smooth bore tank. I warily (and wearily) watched my side mirrors as the tanker rocked back and forth on the tandems. I was damn lucky I hadn't flipped. Hauling tankers is rough like that. So I decided, fuck it. I need sleep. I've got plenty of money on the check already. And an extra seventy bucks ain't worth my life. A Dallas run was short enough to do two in one night. But not last night. There was no possible way.
Dark as it was, tired as I was, I didn't pay any mind to where I'd pulled over. I took the Millsap exit off of interstate 20, right after the rest stop I'd missed. To my grateful surprise, there was a wide strip of shoulder that seemed to pull off into a small drive of sorts. But the drive was gated and I saw no house. In fact, thinking back, I didn't see anything. Just some trees and what I thought were some old electrical boxes, though thinking back, that didn't make a whole lot of sense. Just a bunch of electrical boxes jutting up from the ground with no house or business in sight. That's not how it works.
It didn't register though. I was already on the verge of passing out. I eased the Kenworth over and made sure my tanker was off the road. I turned off my head lights and yanked back on the air brake release. The yellow and red knobs popped out and the hiss of evacuating air shot up dirt from underneath the truck. The fan clicked on, but was quickly off once I cut the engine. The night wasn't exactly cool but it wasn't hot. Very neutral. Womb like. I wouldn't need AC or the heater. I cracked the windows and wormed my way past the back seat and fell onto the mattress.
I wasn't planning on stopping. I had no pillow or blanket. Just my jacket on. But it shouldn't have made a difference. I was dead tired. Tired tired tired. I'd had good sleeps in worse situations. I'm a tall lady. I've been cramped and uncomfortable before. But this wasn't bad, as far as sleeping scenarios go. I'd slept in this truck before.
The first thing I dreamed was that I'd wrecked the truck. And it was odd. For a moment I thought I'd already slept and woken up. I was going to Dallas, just as I was, but I was on the access road, looking for the lane that jumped back on the highway. I watched and watched for it and it never came. I glanced back to the road in front of me and there was no road. Red and white striped signs with yellow chevrons on them. DEAD END in big black letters. I hit the brakes. of course it was too late. The front of the truck smashed through the guardrails. I felt with dazed horror the glass embed in my face and forehead and the sign slice through my chest and toro. The whole truck cab pitched to the left as the road dropped away. And instead of a steep embankment, there was nothing. It was a falling dream. I fell, and fell, and fell.
I jerked and blinked. Back in the truck cab. I stretched, turned over, mumbled vague disparaging comments about stupid dreams, and fell back asleep.
I was on a wagon. Not a little red one, but the old horse and wagon set up. I was sitting between two older folks with blank faces. There was nothing there. It wasn't that I don't remember--the faces were smooth, blank. They stared straight ahead. One was male and one was female. I just got the feeling they were my grandparents, but they certainly weren't mine rail thin and tall as they were. Their clothing was old. I felt the faceless grandfather put his hand on my back. I knew what he was going to do before he did it, but there was no time to scream or stop he. He lifted and shoved me forward. I landed in front of the cart and rolled, and looked up just as that narrow, wooden wheel rolled over my head. I felt and heard the POP. And where anyone might have been long in the black veil that is death, the dream still had me looking. I rolled, twitching, and watched as the horse and cart kept going. The horse was black. The wagon was black. The tall and old man and woman wore black. And on the ground around me was black, spewing liquid that was my blood.
My eyes opened. I thought I was awake. I rolled onto my back and stared up. A strange sense of claustrophobia took hold of me, which was strange. The truck cabin's roof seemed higher than it ever been. it stretched up in the darkness, lit only by vague panel lights. But that's when I look around and knew why I was feeling claustrophobic--there were no panel lights because there was no front half to the truck. Smooth, padded walls surrounded me on all four sides. And they were closing in. I was shoulder to shoulder and the ceiling was receding further and further away. I didn't scream because it already felt like I had used up all my air.
I woke up, for real this time, with a start. Confused, I flailed in the sleeper for a bit before I realized that the night had warmed considerably. I was sweating. After a few breaths, I opened the vent on the side and took off my jacket and used it as a pillow. The night was still silent. I could hear only the occasional car on the highway.
The dreams came rapid fire. Interrupted with only a toss and a turn before I would fall asleep again. The dreams were particularly violent. And many of them set in very old time eras, though a few dotted the modern age. A banquet hall fire. A restaurant stabbing. A dream in which I honest to god thought I was dying of a heart attack. I woke up with a start each time, yet again and again I forced myself to try and forget. I needed sleep, goddammit. I needed sleep so I could finish the remaining three hours of work the job required of me. So I could just go home and sleep on my real bed. I never should've left home to begin with. I should've slept in and done an early morning run. It was too late though.
The last and final dream I remembered most clearly, as always when I sleep. I was in a white dress and I held an infant in my arms. It was peaceful at first. Now this may seem strange to you, but as a transwoman, a dream like this is emotional in a deep way. I can't have my own children born of my own flesh and blood. Not as a traditional mother may, anyhow. But then and there in that dream I knew this was my child and it filled me with a warm feeling of love and motherhood. I held the baby girl up to my chest as I breast fed her, the front of my dress pulled down, and I knew it was a girl. And I called her Anna. She looked up at me with big brown eyes. And you never question dreams. You just go with it.
A man with an old brown cowboy hat and boots walked in. They clomped over floor boards. He took off his hat and nervously held it down in front of him. He brushed dust off its brim.
"Jenny, it's time to let go."
I looked up at him in confusion. "Let go of what?"
"It's time to let go Jenny. She's gone. She's been gone for a long time."
I stared up at him in slack jawed in confusion. His name came to me without a single doubt.
"Micah, what on earth are you talking about dear?"
He dipped his head down and shook it. When he looked back up, his eyes were hollow with sadness.
"Anna's dead, Jenny. Anna's dead and we need to let her go. We've got to bury her. You need to let go."
I scoffed, and chuckled, shook my head. "That's ridiculous. Anna is right here don't you--"
I looked down. The beautiful brown eyed baby girl in my arms was no more. She was a sickly pallid great with bulging, swollen eyes yellowed with jaundice and rot. Worms crawled in her empty mouth, squirming in and out, over and onto my breast and nipple that I was futilely forcing in its mouth. I felt them crawl over my chest---I thought I could feel them inside. And as I gasped to render a scream, for the upteempth time that night, Anna's tongue pushed forward and out, falling in a tumbling squirm of worms as a massive, single meal worm worked its way out of her throat, opened its jaws, and latched onto my breast, piercing either side of it.
I didn't just jerk awake. I leapt awake. I sucked in bellows of air as I smashed my head on the upper console. I saw stars and my ears rang as I fell back into the sleeper bed, moaning and groaning, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I'll be honest, I didn't give about a rat's ass about the string of dreams as much as I did for the new knot on my skull. I've had weird fucking dreams before, okay? Ain't no big deal. Ain't nothing to 'em. I've always had an over active mind. I remember dreaming at a young, young age about holes that went down to the center of the earth, and falling into one only to find myself passing all of my family members who had managed to cling to the walls.
But as far as scary shit went, I was admittedly unnerved. Rubbing my head, cursing and swearing, I stumbled to the front seat, grabbed the cigarettes off the dash, and used one hand to pull one out and light it. (Bad habit--I know. Even worse with HRT.) I sat that and nursed the cigarette and my head for a bit, if one could forgive the play of words. I stared and blinked at the bright morning sun. The day way cool but it was beginning to heat up in the cab without the breeze to flow in through the cracked windows. I turned the key and hit the window button and looked right, and then left as the windows rolled down.
I did a sort of double take without moving my head. I noticed the gate first. The old, chain wrapped gate that didn't have a lock on it. Just a chain wrapped round to keep them together. But when I finally registered the rest of the lot and trees behind it, my jaw dropped. I gawked. A long, way ward sign crooked sign with one side fallen on the ground spelled out the name of the property in which I'd spent my night in front of.
GRASSDALE CEMETERY
I laughed. It was easy too. It was day light, after all. Here's what it looked like. I was facing East with the rising sun, so I know. Shoddy photo. http://i.imgur.com/D23ktnF.jpg Old, a bit eerie, but nothing that a bright morning sun wouldn't keep from being outright creepy. In fact it had a nice sense of calm and peace to it. The morning was cool and I decided, hell. I'll go for a morning cemetery walk to clear my head. This is the kind of stuff I live for when truck driving. The strange, the unordinary, and the different.
I hopped out and stretched my legs and tossed my cigarette onto the gravel. (Bad habit, I know. Everything I do about smoking is bad.) I stamped it out and walked on over and bent backwards to work the kinks out of my back. And like I had every right to be there, I unwrapped the old chain from the gate and swung it open. It swung easily. With a kind of ease that made me wonder if it was because it was well used and kept up, or rarely used and undamaged.
The first thing I noticed was that the cemetery was old. Real old. Some tombstones were nothing more than well weathered, oblong rocks with edges smoothed away. They sat crooked and flat. And they weren't lined up in rows. They were scattered and unorganized. Sloppy. And some of the graves had concrete covers on them that were long ago cracked and broken, grass growing up between them. Some of the dates on the tombstones dated back to early 1800s. Some were as new as 2009. I didn't know if it was a private family cemetery or what. But the difference startled me, particularly for such a small grave yard. It couldn't have been more than thirty yards across.
The last thing on my mind was nightmares. The last thing on my mind was any sense of supernatural happening or eeriness. How could I? The day was beautiful. The breeze felt good on my back. My morning cigarette had calmed me well. And well... I suppose you could see where this is heading.
Near the back corner of the graveyard, an effigy of an angel with both wings broken off sat kneeled down in prayer. Below it, on the square base in faded carving, were four lines of text and number that threw every bit of good feeling out the window at eighty miles an hour. A whine of tension started up in the back of my head, and by time I started running back to my truck, my ears were ringing with adrenaline. I made sure to chain that gate back shut. I picked up my cigarette butt from the ground and shoved it in my damn pocket. I made sure to leave every goddamned thing just as I had fucking found it. I disengaged the parking brakes before the truck was even started. It was rolling backwards by time the engine was cranked and I'd thrown it into first gear. I stood on that gas pedal as those four lines ran through my head. I lit into another cigarette.
Just four lines.
ANNET
BROWN EYED ANGEL
BORN TO JENNY AND MICAH
MARCH 1900 - MAY 1900
~Red
Gonna be on blackout for a bit. Also I hate not getting paid
Posted 10 years agoWork is KILLING me with this shuttling bullshit. Which means for 12 hours straight, 7pm to 7am, I get to jump in and out of trucks older than Jesus as I drag milk tanks over scales and into unload bays all night. Also, apparently LAST time I did this a few weeks ago, they forgot to tell me to fill out a jockey sheet. SO SURPRISE. I DIDN'T GET PAID MY 255 THAT WEEK! I -thought- that paycheck week had been short, but I chalked it up to having had taken an advance out to pay off my truck.
This work pays hella good and my wallet will be thanking me next paycheck, BUT GODDAMN if it ain't mind bogglingly tough work. Maybe this will be good for me. I'm always looking for something to force me to try harder and condition my mind and body to more extremes. I'm running on nil sleep these days, which I find slightly better than my old habit of sleeping 15 hours a day.
But. I have a creative itch that gets ignored when I bust so much ass. I switched to trucking so that I could have that peace of mind and creative ability to work things out between decent jobs. Not really possible when I'm killing my knees all for the sake of getting Dallas area their milk processed.
Anywho. (bitchbitchbitchcomplain) Another thing, I'm probably gonna be quiet until sometime later this week. I've got no more internet on my hotspot, andI'm waiting for internet to show up sometime around Wednesday at the place. Until then I'm going to be pretty blacked out on communication. Or longer, if there are delays in getting it set up. It all just depends.
Love y'all! Here. Have a music video.
[yt]K4dx42YzQCE[/yt]
Fun Facts about this video:
It was created with stop motion.
Beck is the one holding the box out Jack White during the lyric "a box with something in it".
All the amps and drums were later donated.
And Jack White is still a pretentious twit who thinks he invented stripped down barebones rock music because he has apparently never heard of The Cramps.
Love,
Red
This work pays hella good and my wallet will be thanking me next paycheck, BUT GODDAMN if it ain't mind bogglingly tough work. Maybe this will be good for me. I'm always looking for something to force me to try harder and condition my mind and body to more extremes. I'm running on nil sleep these days, which I find slightly better than my old habit of sleeping 15 hours a day.
But. I have a creative itch that gets ignored when I bust so much ass. I switched to trucking so that I could have that peace of mind and creative ability to work things out between decent jobs. Not really possible when I'm killing my knees all for the sake of getting Dallas area their milk processed.
Anywho. (bitchbitchbitchcomplain) Another thing, I'm probably gonna be quiet until sometime later this week. I've got no more internet on my hotspot, andI'm waiting for internet to show up sometime around Wednesday at the place. Until then I'm going to be pretty blacked out on communication. Or longer, if there are delays in getting it set up. It all just depends.
Love y'all! Here. Have a music video.
[yt]K4dx42YzQCE[/yt]
Fun Facts about this video:
It was created with stop motion.
Beck is the one holding the box out Jack White during the lyric "a box with something in it".
All the amps and drums were later donated.
And Jack White is still a pretentious twit who thinks he invented stripped down barebones rock music because he has apparently never heard of The Cramps.
Love,
Red
So this is happening... Also, good morning!
Posted 10 years agoFirst, hi! How are you doing? How's you day? It's finally Saturday which means there's a chance you could be sleeping in. how was it? If not, I hope you had a great day doing whatever it was!
So in other news, I made a comment on the FA Forums about the sale and appaaaarently someone screen capped it and Tweeted it. http://i.imgur.com/V83nXVB.png
What a time to be alive.
Anyhow, that just struck me as funny. You never know when something you're gonna say is going to be quoted and spread around. I suppose there's a lesson in online accountability in this that speaks for itself. I could only imagine if it was something more serious and maybe something I said about a specific person. That... would have been bad. At the most, this is just mildly interesting.
Ah well. MUSIC TIME.
Just an fyi, you're wonderful! You're awesome! And I don't give a hoot what people say about you. I love you and I think you're swell. <33
Love,
Red
So in other news, I made a comment on the FA Forums about the sale and appaaaarently someone screen capped it and Tweeted it. http://i.imgur.com/V83nXVB.png
What a time to be alive.
Anyhow, that just struck me as funny. You never know when something you're gonna say is going to be quoted and spread around. I suppose there's a lesson in online accountability in this that speaks for itself. I could only imagine if it was something more serious and maybe something I said about a specific person. That... would have been bad. At the most, this is just mildly interesting.
Ah well. MUSIC TIME.
Just an fyi, you're wonderful! You're awesome! And I don't give a hoot what people say about you. I love you and I think you're swell. <33
Love,
Red
SO. My last and final thoughts on the "debacle"
Posted 10 years agoAnd then I'm going to shut up about it.
I think that the one single fact that can be taken from this is that Dragoneer was never cut out to be site owner. Plain and simple. Nearly every decision he has made, from giving admin and coder spots to personal friends with bad reputations, to hiring a coder with a history of burning bridges, to removing the most competent staff because they became involved with another site, and to wracking up a 10k tax bill, has been indicative of a chronic lack of foresight.
The one good thing he could've done good for FA was sell the site, and he couldn't even do that right. I'm not even really surprised anymore. Just extremely underwhelmed.
And now for something hilarious: https://twitter.com/FurAffinityPR/s.....64578794520577
I think that the one single fact that can be taken from this is that Dragoneer was never cut out to be site owner. Plain and simple. Nearly every decision he has made, from giving admin and coder spots to personal friends with bad reputations, to hiring a coder with a history of burning bridges, to removing the most competent staff because they became involved with another site, and to wracking up a 10k tax bill, has been indicative of a chronic lack of foresight.
The one good thing he could've done good for FA was sell the site, and he couldn't even do that right. I'm not even really surprised anymore. Just extremely underwhelmed.
And now for something hilarious: https://twitter.com/FurAffinityPR/s.....64578794520577
To clarify, naw, I guess I ain't really "leaving"
Posted 10 years agoI'm just taking this time to diversify myself across the web. And so I'll appear less often here for the moment.
YES THERE ARE REASONS but really it's something that shoulda been done. But leaving outright is a bit silly when I think about it. Basically cause nothing technical has happened yet. And I was being a drunk dumb this morning when I made that post. (Hey, I work nights. Am is technically my PM, yanno?)
So.
Carry on.
...but be prepared for me to plug my Weasyl at every second. Mwahah aha.
Aha.
Ahem.
~Red
YES THERE ARE REASONS but really it's something that shoulda been done. But leaving outright is a bit silly when I think about it. Basically cause nothing technical has happened yet. And I was being a drunk dumb this morning when I made that post. (Hey, I work nights. Am is technically my PM, yanno?)
So.
Carry on.
...but be prepared for me to plug my Weasyl at every second. Mwahah aha.
Aha.
Ahem.
~Red
Hey I'm shifting stock. Y'all can find me in two other place
Posted 10 years agoFirst is my DeviantArt, where you can actually find a LOT of my old writings. Which at one point were apparently half decent enough to have a good following. I've sorely neglected it since, so things tend to be quiet. http://red-savage.deviantart.com/
And then my Weasyl. I don't know why I don't use this. The site is superior to FA in every way. I guess it's mostly the community keeping me here.
That said, I won't stop updating journals and stopping correspondence on here. I won't, however, be uploading too often here. This includes my own drawings and writings, commissioned art and smut, and donation sketches. So if you'd like to see my hot stuff anywhere, find it on Weasyl. If you'd like to see my more writing oriented stuff, find me dA. I want to try and diversify my online presence and this seems like a good a time as any.
For just general updates, any of the three sites I use will work.
i won't even even call this a 'permanent" leave because maybe FurAffinity getting rid of Dragoneer as top-dog will be the best thing that ever happened to this site. But... IMVU man. Just. IMVU. For serious. How is that even a thing anymore? I'll wait this out and see.
Love y'all~
Red
PS: I changed and clarified a few things since last journal reeked of bandwagon-y wording.
YOU did this. <3
Posted 10 years agoSo, plans changed.
For the better.
This morning I'd just finished filling out the apartment lease and was driving back to the truck yard to take a shower when along the way I noticed that a FOR RENT sign had gone up. It was a small culldesac less than a quarter mile from my work place. And it had -just- shown up. So, I wrote down the number. Just in case. When time came for me to turn in the application, I was hesitant because there were certain conditions I did not meet. Being at my job for a whole year was the biggest one, as well as having a five year lease history. I asked the apartment manager how strict they were on these things, and she said, "Very."
I asked, "Like... I won't get the place "very"?"
"It's not likely. But, you can submit it and we can see."
I said to hang on while I made a phone call. I left there and made the call, and a man answers the phone and says if I meet him there we can discuss renting conditions. I say alright and an hour later I'm waiting outside a cute little two bedroom house with a big yard. The oldest, cutest couple I've ever met step out and hobble up to the house to let me in to look. Not only was it more spacious than the other place, it had more windows, a backyard and front yard, and hardwood floors. I ask for the deposit and rent.
Rent: 600 (or 300 for the remainder of this month)
Deposit: 300 this month, and then 300 next month.
So, only 25 dollars a month more on rent. And 100 dollars less for initial move in fee. And no application fee.
Now, other apartment also said that it would take -three- days for me to get moved in. This old man said, "If you have the cash then meet me at eleven-thirty and we can get the lease drawn up and signed. And we can chat a bit and get yer info."
So I meet him there and we talk and he tells me about how he had chemo done on his legs and his wife was driving him around until he got hand controls for his car. We even talked about what kind of acceptable activities could take place. I mentioned I wouldn't want wild parties or anything, but maybe a BBQ and a few friends over to drink if he was cool. And he laughed and said, "Well, I've spilled more whiskey than you've drank. It's a quiet neighborhood but drinking is one of the greatest things in the world. I don't mind so long as your buddies don't get too wild."
He then goes on to say, "Now, I extend this invitation to all my renters. But if you haven't been in town long and you're looking for a church, consider this your formal invitation to the Cowboy Church over on 67. It's very formal. I go just as I am and you can go just like how you're dressed. It's just an offer, nothing more, but consider yourself welcome."
Gotta love Texas. I said I would consider it, and of coursed didn't mention that it wasn't exactly my thing.
By twelve-noon I was holding keys to my new home.
I show up and moved everything out of my truck. The landlord also asked me to take down the FOR RENT sign, so I did that about halfway through. As I did, a man pulled up in a red Dodge Dakota and asked, "Hey, you have a house for rent?"
"Sorry man, I just rented it!" I said. The guy swore and drove away in his lil' pickup.
Now.... This is gonna sound silly of me, but I do believe in a sort of....alignment of the stars. Not necessarily hand of god. Not necessarily some supernatural shifting of events. But simply that sometimes things just line up. They turn out. Like tossing a nickle and having it land vertically on its center, it makes you do a double take.
I went from looking at a few weeks homeless trying to get into an apartment I wouldn't have qualified for anyways to -immediately- moving into a house not a stone's throw from my job the day after the sign goes up. And it was all thanks to an overwhelming response of kindness and generosity in this very fandom.
Here's what the 'lil place looks like. Nothing special. It's a metal roof. http://i.imgur.com/hCqKPkq.jpg
And here's the inside. http://imgur.com/a/1cD7V
I went from the back of my pickup to living in a hardwood floor house for the same price as the local apartment in 72 hours. Three days. Three. Days.
This doesn't seem real. But it is. And it happened blisteringly fast.
Something else to point out, y'all didn't just help me. You also helped my roommate. See, before I hit the dirt running, he was going to be the person I was going to help. Who I was going to 'pass it on' too. He's been living in a rough debt situation in San Fran and need a new place to actually build a life for himself. Get a license. Get a car. Get money saved. I offered to room with him months ago, and have been struggling to get to this point ever since.
A couple days ago his mom stroked out. I'm talking, maybe 24 hours after I posted the original journal. He needed 2 things. 1: To get him and his stuff moved from San Francisco. and 2: To visit his mom in Arizona.
We'd already been agonizing over how to get him over here, and then his mom's hospitalization threw all of that under a bus. He began stressing out in a very, very bad way. But finally, I was able to tell him that not only would I be able to now go pick him up and all his possessions, I could afford to swing him by Arizona as well.
Y'all did much more than house some fur in Texas. I'll leave it at that, but I figured y'all would want to know.
Thank you from both of us. Sorry if this seems rambly. I'm still in a bit of emotional whiplash and this reverts me to a state of needless talk.
Much love,
~Red
Ps: Still going to respond to all your awesome comments and notes within the next couple days I'm off work. Also, start drawing stuff once I get my desk moved in. <33
For the better.
This morning I'd just finished filling out the apartment lease and was driving back to the truck yard to take a shower when along the way I noticed that a FOR RENT sign had gone up. It was a small culldesac less than a quarter mile from my work place. And it had -just- shown up. So, I wrote down the number. Just in case. When time came for me to turn in the application, I was hesitant because there were certain conditions I did not meet. Being at my job for a whole year was the biggest one, as well as having a five year lease history. I asked the apartment manager how strict they were on these things, and she said, "Very."
I asked, "Like... I won't get the place "very"?"
"It's not likely. But, you can submit it and we can see."
I said to hang on while I made a phone call. I left there and made the call, and a man answers the phone and says if I meet him there we can discuss renting conditions. I say alright and an hour later I'm waiting outside a cute little two bedroom house with a big yard. The oldest, cutest couple I've ever met step out and hobble up to the house to let me in to look. Not only was it more spacious than the other place, it had more windows, a backyard and front yard, and hardwood floors. I ask for the deposit and rent.
Rent: 600 (or 300 for the remainder of this month)
Deposit: 300 this month, and then 300 next month.
So, only 25 dollars a month more on rent. And 100 dollars less for initial move in fee. And no application fee.
Now, other apartment also said that it would take -three- days for me to get moved in. This old man said, "If you have the cash then meet me at eleven-thirty and we can get the lease drawn up and signed. And we can chat a bit and get yer info."
So I meet him there and we talk and he tells me about how he had chemo done on his legs and his wife was driving him around until he got hand controls for his car. We even talked about what kind of acceptable activities could take place. I mentioned I wouldn't want wild parties or anything, but maybe a BBQ and a few friends over to drink if he was cool. And he laughed and said, "Well, I've spilled more whiskey than you've drank. It's a quiet neighborhood but drinking is one of the greatest things in the world. I don't mind so long as your buddies don't get too wild."
He then goes on to say, "Now, I extend this invitation to all my renters. But if you haven't been in town long and you're looking for a church, consider this your formal invitation to the Cowboy Church over on 67. It's very formal. I go just as I am and you can go just like how you're dressed. It's just an offer, nothing more, but consider yourself welcome."
Gotta love Texas. I said I would consider it, and of coursed didn't mention that it wasn't exactly my thing.
By twelve-noon I was holding keys to my new home.
I show up and moved everything out of my truck. The landlord also asked me to take down the FOR RENT sign, so I did that about halfway through. As I did, a man pulled up in a red Dodge Dakota and asked, "Hey, you have a house for rent?"
"Sorry man, I just rented it!" I said. The guy swore and drove away in his lil' pickup.
Now.... This is gonna sound silly of me, but I do believe in a sort of....alignment of the stars. Not necessarily hand of god. Not necessarily some supernatural shifting of events. But simply that sometimes things just line up. They turn out. Like tossing a nickle and having it land vertically on its center, it makes you do a double take.
I went from looking at a few weeks homeless trying to get into an apartment I wouldn't have qualified for anyways to -immediately- moving into a house not a stone's throw from my job the day after the sign goes up. And it was all thanks to an overwhelming response of kindness and generosity in this very fandom.
Here's what the 'lil place looks like. Nothing special. It's a metal roof. http://i.imgur.com/hCqKPkq.jpg
And here's the inside. http://imgur.com/a/1cD7V
I went from the back of my pickup to living in a hardwood floor house for the same price as the local apartment in 72 hours. Three days. Three. Days.
This doesn't seem real. But it is. And it happened blisteringly fast.
Something else to point out, y'all didn't just help me. You also helped my roommate. See, before I hit the dirt running, he was going to be the person I was going to help. Who I was going to 'pass it on' too. He's been living in a rough debt situation in San Fran and need a new place to actually build a life for himself. Get a license. Get a car. Get money saved. I offered to room with him months ago, and have been struggling to get to this point ever since.
A couple days ago his mom stroked out. I'm talking, maybe 24 hours after I posted the original journal. He needed 2 things. 1: To get him and his stuff moved from San Francisco. and 2: To visit his mom in Arizona.
We'd already been agonizing over how to get him over here, and then his mom's hospitalization threw all of that under a bus. He began stressing out in a very, very bad way. But finally, I was able to tell him that not only would I be able to now go pick him up and all his possessions, I could afford to swing him by Arizona as well.
Y'all did much more than house some fur in Texas. I'll leave it at that, but I figured y'all would want to know.
Thank you from both of us. Sorry if this seems rambly. I'm still in a bit of emotional whiplash and this reverts me to a state of needless talk.
Much love,
~Red
Ps: Still going to respond to all your awesome comments and notes within the next couple days I'm off work. Also, start drawing stuff once I get my desk moved in. <33
THANK YOU. THANK YOU SO. DAMN. MUCH.
Posted 10 years agoOkay wow holy crapola. Holy shit snacks. Jesus-jumped-up-christ. You guys are about to make me cry. I was NOT expecting this kind of support to come through in this short amount of time. To say I'm floored is an understatement. I'm astonished and humbled by the outpouring of assistance. I'm baffled and blessed. Relieved and astonished. Did I mention astonished?
I was expecting a hundred or so at best.
I was not expecting almost eighteen hundred dollars to show up in a space of 48 hours of posting my last journal. Including my now minimal contribution to the funds, I'm now sitting on 2,193 dollars to get moved in and settled in a new home.
Again. Jaw dropping.
At best I was expecting to have enough to get moved in once I got paid again. I'm now expecting to be moved in by next Wednesday. But more so, y'all have helped me with numerous other necessities that I've been neglecting in favor of staying afloat.
I was able to buy laundry soap and wash my clothes.
I was able to refill my hormone prescription.
I bought soap, tooth paste, and tooth brushes. My mouth is no longer in constant pain.
I bought fuel for my truck.
I can now pay the title transfer fee so I won't get penalized for driving without registration.
I got back my computer and tablet from pawn.
I got my data/phone plan refilled, so now my work can actually call me in for extra jobs. And I can stay in touch.
And food. When I get moved in, I will be able to stock my fridge with actual goddamned food.
You crazy, caring, generous people. There's no true way to express how thankful I am or how much this all means. I've yet to even get around to properly responding to all the encouraging notes and comments I've received. This is simply the quickest way for me to address everyone's generosity in the mean time.
That said, unless it hasn't been obvious, I've used the surplus of funds to address more things than I had originally listed. Partly because I did not think to post then at the time of the original journal (I was in the middle of getting my trailer axle put back underneath my tanker after an axle bolt went missing while I was driving) and partly because I was planning on putting a lot of these things off until later like the title transfer fee for my pickup.
That said, if you feel as if your donation was spent unfairly, please contact me and I will gladly give a refund within reason. I was rather explicit on the expenses which I immediately needed covered. But I was not expecting this much response or support, to be perfectly honest.
My expectations were subverted in the best kind of way.
That said, I want to extend a special thanks to Fivel, Not-Fun, Joel, Vaer, and anyone else who signal boosted, resulting in not only more donations than originally possible, but created a surplus of new watchers that has me in an emotional state that kind of makes me want to cry, laugh, and hug every one of y'all.
Hi. My name is Red Savage. I live in Texas, drive a truck, and write and draw. I also like rock n roll, and I'm kind of a redneck a heart. I'd say I'm not usually such a big mess, but that would only honestly be half true. All said and done I have a good sense of humor about most things. I love to talk. And deep down I'm really an optimist, even if I'm really hard on myself. If you'd like to chat, hit me up on Skype. My username is coyotecaliente, name should show up as Red Savage.
I also want to extend an extra special thanks to Ruggy, who generously offered to do art for some of the donators. That said, I don't think EITHER of us expected things to get this big this quickly. With that in mind, I think I will see what I can do about splitting the work load with her. I know the difference in art skill level is ...considerable. That said, if you would truly prefer art from that wonderful punk lion, do consider commissioning her as her time as a working artist is very valuable.
Again, thank you all. I'll be thanking every one of you all personally as I can over the next few weeks. I'll keep you updated on my application and moving progress. For the new watchers, the less stressful work environment will hopefully stimulate some creativity, and you may see more writing and art from me. I've been given a wonderful second chance and I'm going to make the best of it.
God knows I've had lots of those. I don't think I'll ever deserve a single one of them, but I certainly don't waste them. I learn so much and I get a little bit further along in life each time. This time I've learned that the kindness of complete strangers expecting nothing in return exists in abundance. And in a world where I've been screwed and taken advantage of more than I'd like to mention, and I myself have inadvertently hurt and used others--I can only try and fall short of expressing the gratitude I feel.
Thank you. Thank you every single one of you.
I love you all. http://i.imgur.com/jgCEMEx.jpg
-Red
I was expecting a hundred or so at best.
I was not expecting almost eighteen hundred dollars to show up in a space of 48 hours of posting my last journal. Including my now minimal contribution to the funds, I'm now sitting on 2,193 dollars to get moved in and settled in a new home.
Again. Jaw dropping.
At best I was expecting to have enough to get moved in once I got paid again. I'm now expecting to be moved in by next Wednesday. But more so, y'all have helped me with numerous other necessities that I've been neglecting in favor of staying afloat.
I was able to buy laundry soap and wash my clothes.
I was able to refill my hormone prescription.
I bought soap, tooth paste, and tooth brushes. My mouth is no longer in constant pain.
I bought fuel for my truck.
I can now pay the title transfer fee so I won't get penalized for driving without registration.
I got back my computer and tablet from pawn.
I got my data/phone plan refilled, so now my work can actually call me in for extra jobs. And I can stay in touch.
And food. When I get moved in, I will be able to stock my fridge with actual goddamned food.
You crazy, caring, generous people. There's no true way to express how thankful I am or how much this all means. I've yet to even get around to properly responding to all the encouraging notes and comments I've received. This is simply the quickest way for me to address everyone's generosity in the mean time.
That said, unless it hasn't been obvious, I've used the surplus of funds to address more things than I had originally listed. Partly because I did not think to post then at the time of the original journal (I was in the middle of getting my trailer axle put back underneath my tanker after an axle bolt went missing while I was driving) and partly because I was planning on putting a lot of these things off until later like the title transfer fee for my pickup.
That said, if you feel as if your donation was spent unfairly, please contact me and I will gladly give a refund within reason. I was rather explicit on the expenses which I immediately needed covered. But I was not expecting this much response or support, to be perfectly honest.
My expectations were subverted in the best kind of way.
That said, I want to extend a special thanks to Fivel, Not-Fun, Joel, Vaer, and anyone else who signal boosted, resulting in not only more donations than originally possible, but created a surplus of new watchers that has me in an emotional state that kind of makes me want to cry, laugh, and hug every one of y'all.
Hi. My name is Red Savage. I live in Texas, drive a truck, and write and draw. I also like rock n roll, and I'm kind of a redneck a heart. I'd say I'm not usually such a big mess, but that would only honestly be half true. All said and done I have a good sense of humor about most things. I love to talk. And deep down I'm really an optimist, even if I'm really hard on myself. If you'd like to chat, hit me up on Skype. My username is coyotecaliente, name should show up as Red Savage.
I also want to extend an extra special thanks to Ruggy, who generously offered to do art for some of the donators. That said, I don't think EITHER of us expected things to get this big this quickly. With that in mind, I think I will see what I can do about splitting the work load with her. I know the difference in art skill level is ...considerable. That said, if you would truly prefer art from that wonderful punk lion, do consider commissioning her as her time as a working artist is very valuable.
Again, thank you all. I'll be thanking every one of you all personally as I can over the next few weeks. I'll keep you updated on my application and moving progress. For the new watchers, the less stressful work environment will hopefully stimulate some creativity, and you may see more writing and art from me. I've been given a wonderful second chance and I'm going to make the best of it.
God knows I've had lots of those. I don't think I'll ever deserve a single one of them, but I certainly don't waste them. I learn so much and I get a little bit further along in life each time. This time I've learned that the kindness of complete strangers expecting nothing in return exists in abundance. And in a world where I've been screwed and taken advantage of more than I'd like to mention, and I myself have inadvertently hurt and used others--I can only try and fall short of expressing the gratitude I feel.
Thank you. Thank you every single one of you.
I love you all. http://i.imgur.com/jgCEMEx.jpg
-Red
PLEASE READ NEWEST JOURNAL
Posted 10 years agoPLEASE READ NEWEST JOURNAL AND THANK YOU SO, SO VERY MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT.
Hey all! How goes it? Long time no see.
I'll preface this by saying I'm sorry to have been so quiet for so long, only to come back and ask for help.
Long story short: I am currently living out of my pickup, and attempting to get into an apartment. I am very close but at the same time still a few weeks away. My personal belongings are getting damaged due to weather in the mean time.
Long story: Due to differences between my family and I, I am no longer living at home. I don't blame them or feel that it was a bad move necessarily. It was a long time coming and the only thing that kept me there was the fact that they still had the title to my truck. I now have said title and am now living out of said pickup.
That said, I severely underestimated just how stressful and expensive living out of my vehicle would be. I cannot shop for food and store it, and am constantly buying unhealthy food at terrible prices. The stress is surprisingly significant. I did not expect to be so wrung out and tired, yet here I am. I suppose last time I was homeless I always had pot as a sort of "pretend everything is okay" cure. Obviously, such a thing would ruin me at my current job, and I've stayed far away from that.
This week I was hoping to be moved in, but past cash advances I've taken to pay off the truck and keep myself afloat chipped away at my check considerably. I am 125 dollars short of finally moving in. Other expenses include getting personal belongings of of pawn and turning on electricity.
Funds are as follow:
360 in savings
250 loan
=610
Expenses:
400 deposit
300 half months rent
25 dollar application fee
45 pawn for computer and windows tablet
50-75 electricity deposit
=845
The only reason I consider this a bit dire is because next week Stephenville, TX is expecting rain. Though I do have a camper on my truck, I found out tht due to its age the fiberglass itself "sweats" and leaks during rain. My bed and clothes are at risk of getting destroyed.
Anything, or at least passing the word along, would be appreciated. In return Id love to be able to write and draw some sketches for donators in my new home, or even do an illustrated sketch story for people who donate considerably. Feel free to ask any questions. I will refund donations that are not needed, if it comes to that.
-UPDATE-
My good friend Ruggy is offering sketches for donaters, bless her heart. Her journal is here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/6573627/
I hope everyone is doing okay as winter turns to spring. It'll be sunnier soon. It always is.
Love
Red
PS: PayPal is lonestarcoyote [@]hotmail.com
Note me too so I know who you are.
I'll preface this by saying I'm sorry to have been so quiet for so long, only to come back and ask for help.
Long story short: I am currently living out of my pickup, and attempting to get into an apartment. I am very close but at the same time still a few weeks away. My personal belongings are getting damaged due to weather in the mean time.
Long story: Due to differences between my family and I, I am no longer living at home. I don't blame them or feel that it was a bad move necessarily. It was a long time coming and the only thing that kept me there was the fact that they still had the title to my truck. I now have said title and am now living out of said pickup.
That said, I severely underestimated just how stressful and expensive living out of my vehicle would be. I cannot shop for food and store it, and am constantly buying unhealthy food at terrible prices. The stress is surprisingly significant. I did not expect to be so wrung out and tired, yet here I am. I suppose last time I was homeless I always had pot as a sort of "pretend everything is okay" cure. Obviously, such a thing would ruin me at my current job, and I've stayed far away from that.
This week I was hoping to be moved in, but past cash advances I've taken to pay off the truck and keep myself afloat chipped away at my check considerably. I am 125 dollars short of finally moving in. Other expenses include getting personal belongings of of pawn and turning on electricity.
Funds are as follow:
360 in savings
250 loan
=610
Expenses:
400 deposit
300 half months rent
25 dollar application fee
45 pawn for computer and windows tablet
50-75 electricity deposit
=845
The only reason I consider this a bit dire is because next week Stephenville, TX is expecting rain. Though I do have a camper on my truck, I found out tht due to its age the fiberglass itself "sweats" and leaks during rain. My bed and clothes are at risk of getting destroyed.
Anything, or at least passing the word along, would be appreciated. In return Id love to be able to write and draw some sketches for donators in my new home, or even do an illustrated sketch story for people who donate considerably. Feel free to ask any questions. I will refund donations that are not needed, if it comes to that.
-UPDATE-
My good friend Ruggy is offering sketches for donaters, bless her heart. Her journal is here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/6573627/
I hope everyone is doing okay as winter turns to spring. It'll be sunnier soon. It always is.
Love
Red
PS: PayPal is lonestarcoyote [@]hotmail.com
Note me too so I know who you are.
INCOMING ART DUMP (nsfw warning)
Posted 11 years agoSo I've had a crap ton of art done lately. Some gifted, some requested, and a good bit of it commissioned. Even art of my old CC character! Which I'm comfortable enough posting as an alt character to be used in stories and such.
Warning: There WILL be smut. So set that SFW mode if you're worried, aye?
Peace!
Love, Red
Warning: There WILL be smut. So set that SFW mode if you're worried, aye?
Peace!
Love, Red
