Butter’s Bright Basics

Hello, lovelies!

First off writing is my therapy.

And I shared it.

It was INFP to INFP. The dreamer writers. Everyone is a writer but we are specified as dreamer writers.

I would like to walk you through the buzzing emotions and intangible fun of sharing creative writing. Have you ever met someone who you knew from the start would be networked as friends?

Exactly what has occurred in my corner of the world.

I was nudged to try to make friends or more like a single good friend and trying really did pay off. Who nudged me? My therapist hinted at it upon noticing I was on top of work and had to wait to enter the Fall semester of community college to commence school again.

Questions were asked: “Would you like to have friends?”

This is a universal yes from my anthropologist’s perspective.

“Why not make friends from work?”

Because it would turn that toxic work is family slogan into a breathing porcupine minus the adorableness twice the pointiness of the quills.

Did this thought stop me? Well, put it this way… it sure did make me stop and think. Let’s say all work is family but generalities are false so some work is family is better because it is at least selective!

My mom told me in a car ride because I feel my mommy and I always have the best heart-to-heart in a car, she told me she thinks it’s hard because someone has to make the first move. And I was like okay that’s doable.

I’ll admit in that session with my therapist I claimed to be experiencing a manic episode despite being manageably tight-lipped. The soaring mood that allowed me to greet the customers at my place of work better than a flower girl does a pairing of love penguins could have been but a good mood nothing less. With no other topics to make goals for, friendship really was my target life hot spot to strengthen.

At work, I only perceived myself to be hypomanic because I collected a lot of donations so here I am like why did this happen? Did I do something right? I am telling you from my funky bipolar perspective two customers each gave a generous $20 donation equal to two bags of groceries to the local food bank for the holidays. People tell me I am a nice good person and really I want to do bipolar rants to disenchant them to prove I am chaotic good (my friend is a dungeon master and they know the alignments) I had actually won a coupon by recording $200 worth of kind-hearted donations for $5 of the grocery store’s products. Like, I literally told my therapist I am a racist, homophobic, sexist pig and I deserve to be treated fairly anyway! I just cannot see myself as an ally…

I listened to a podcast today showcasing bipolar disorder treatments and care measures… like I had no idea saying shit like: “family member did not mom say you forgot your meds last night?” That is so slanderous and I say all these terrible things even though I believe I have a great rapport with this family member but I suffocate it.

So I meandered over to this friend and requested an audience with them so we could edit each other’s work. We could help each other. We could transform our individual work with team effort.

We developed an agreement to meet once a week to edit!

The first thing I say is that I write drunk and edit sober and I have yet to edit.

How did it pay off? I had fun during the first and only meeting thus far and you know who else has fun? World leaders like incredibly longevity elder Dalai Lamha. His holiness is in his 80s (～￣▽￣)～. How did I have fun? Yes, these are the broad questions but hear me out. I learned stuff about a human I have never met before and logistically speaking they were different enough from me that I learned three-ish essential things that could be used for later reference to aid in my own survival from the world.

1. Your surroundings can be made to make the atmosphere light. We were at a library and there was a painting of William Shakespeare on the wall that I had not noticed until my friend pointed it out. This was hilardog because we had been chatting about Billy Shakespeare and the timeless poet metaphorize into the wall.
2. Learning languages is fun. They talked about what they knew about middle English or old English and they said it was like you had to pronounce it the way the word is spelled. I noticed they read their writing with their finger gliding across the page following each word. This is something I used to be forced to do because I have a learning disability regarding reading the phonetic meaning. I think maybe if I stuck to the old strategies I might have been able to read aloud better.
3. Outlining a story could be useful it was amazing. They had their story planned from beginning to end.

Sharing is hard but those who said it is caring are not liars. You must be a cake with a frosting of praise and candles of flaming growth mindset suggestions.

The start of the meeting was hard because my writing has little to no pauses. My sentences are tangents, my ideas are wildfire and my whole paper was longer than theirs despite being in a tinier font. My writing was a double edge sword; therefore, I was out of oxygen in my lungs before the final paragraph of the first page. Of course, it should be said it was only longer by two-ish pages but I love to turn things into competitions.

Wondering, as I sit here at my desk in my parent’s house listening to Hideki Tanuichi DEATH NOTE original soundtrack, how did they feel about sharing their work with me? I was very apologetic but I had asked them to read their work out loud because I was taught that way; however, they were taught to swap paper.

They were polite. Things were said to suggest they were excited to hold this meeting. I did not tell them that I had a dream that I was late to the meeting but they were more giving and said that they told their friend that they were hanging out with me that day.

Hindering my suggestions to their beautiful dream world fantastical story that is so compelling I think it could be genered into contemporary fiction whereas I think my work would be literary fiction and hardly a soul would buy mine if I ever do get myself published. God, I sound like one of those pick-me boys. Pick me boys use self-depreciation to pick up chicks like me with picking up potential customers! Aya （￣︶￣）↗　

We had deep intellectual discussions about things like favorite cartoon characters (mine is King from The Owl House and theirs was Jim Hawkins whom I appreciate and I forgot to tell the friend that I drew Jim in my attractive fictional character collection including Milo from Atlantis and Prince Naveen from Princess and the Frog.)

Now that I mention it… there were plenty of facts and info I forgot to tell them but that is okay.

We also talked about serious mental health stuff that was way off-topic because I am autistic and I go on tangents like there was another factor which was the style of the story I wrote– a story written half auto and a half from the perspective of an elder raccooness, a fictional mythical being that can grant wishes.

Is it a smart idea to overshare information about your health history with brand-new first-impression friends?

Hell no!

But I felt like there was nothing else to talk about because I actually wrote a story about PMS, afflicting vagina owners during that time of the month to ramp up irritability, and like I told them all this crazy stuff like how my boyfriend and I first broke up and got back together when I started getting treated because I could not like do the dating with my periods.

But like I felt like I can trust them?

Why?

They said they liked my glasses and when people are nice to me I open up.

Have the best day lovelies,

Bai

Buttercup (❁´◡`❁)