Consider this post the equivalent of eating all the crows. Every single one. In the World. To ever exist.
I'm convinced that every time I come close to accepting something about myself, I am hit square in the face with the opposite of said confession. See previous post entitled "My Confession".
I'm a knitting girlie now. Also I'm a fanfic consumer, obsessor, fanatic, what have you.
I am so sorry for doubting the other knitting girlies because they're correct. It's the perfect hobby. It cures my ADHD without wasting my time, and there are always new things I can make, thing's I'll use. Perfect gifts to give people. Continuing with said confession...
Since that post, I've made over ten hats, two pairs of SOCKS, and a single solitary sweater. A beautiful sweater I might add. I've spent an ungodly amount of money on yarn. And supplies. And being consumed by how I can make literally anything with basically string and needles.
I've come on here to say, I recently spent $200 on baby alpaca yarn and I did not even flinch with the decision to do so. Because I'm making another, beautiful sweater that I will love with my entire life.
On to the next, the fanfic thing. Oh the fanfic thing, how the mighty have fallen.
I've known about fanfic, of course I've know about it's existence. I was on tumblr in the 20teens, that should be no surprise as I have a blog. But I've always looked down on fanfic,very smugly. VERY.
Further confession, I "dipped my toe" in it by reading Manacled. MANACLED.
The thought process here is that the tiktok girlies said it was life changing, and I thought I knew better. I was incorrect. Refer to the crows.
PSA- Do Not Read Manacled As Your First FanFic. LEARN FROM ME.
Suffice to say, I read Manacled twice. Back to back. In the span of three days. Three days in which I didn't sleep, didn't eat, and didn't talk to anyone. Do you know what that does to a person? Because I still can't figure it out.
I've probably read about a million (50**?) fanfics since then. I'm talking everything. All the classic Dramiones, all the medium obscured ones, some downright weird shit. And there is no end in sight. It's a disease, an infection in my brain. Please send help immediately.
If it's not obvious from said picture, I'll admit it in writing. I absolutely do not regret my fall from grace. But indoctrinated catholic school gab requires the following.
It's been about two months. And it's taken me that long to come on here and admit my sins, consider this post my seeking penance.
However, with my luck, the moment I post this, something will break and I'll no longer be interested, meaning I'll be stuck with a half made baby alpaca sweater and a closet full of a million balls of yarn. I'll have to eat more crow, but I've afraid they're already done for.
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