My Dearest Callie,
Your bandana was delivered today. I actually ordered two: One to frame and display, and one to wear when I go to the gym, for motivation. The problem I'm having is figuring out how to wear it. I'm proud of my wavy hair, I don't want to wrap it around my head like normal. I could tie it around my neck maybe, but that might be appropriating dog culture. Isn't there some way of wearing a bandana that's like a gay dog whistle? Like the earring thing or those colored rubber bracelets that kids used to wear? I don't want to give off any gay frequencies.
I just looked it up, apparently it's color-coded. Your bandana is some mix of light blue, dark blue, and green, so that either means I'm into anal, I'm into oral, or I'm involved in prostitution. I guess I'm the latter, since every day in this thread I'm always knee deep in whores.
Not You Though, John Nyadams
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My Dearest Callie,
Recent events in VTubing have gotten me thinking about gendered spaces, and as reparations for my kind entering the predominately female space of VTubing and using the concept of an all-encompassing "VTubing community" as a pretense to approach and ensnare vulnerable women, I'd like to share with you one of the male gender's sacred spaces: The barber. Now I know that women value their hair very dearly just as men do, but I'm not quite sure if the salons or hairdressers women frequent share the same kind of camaraderie as men do with their barbers. The barber is a focal point of the community, hundreds of heads pass under his blade each week, people sharing their dreams and their fears, people preparing for the next phase of life or love, people striving to be their best selves and wanting to look the part. And the customers build a repertoire with the barber in kind. I've been going to the same barber for almost twenty years, he's a friend of the family. I don't even have to tell him what I want, I just sit in the chair and he gives me a perfect haircut every time, because he has such an intimate understanding of each person who walks through his doors that he knows just what people need.
The place used to be much more lively before covid. There was this long wooden bench along one wall of the shop, and you could just walk in and sit down and people would be arguing or shooting the shit or passing around shots on Friday nights as they wait for their haircut. The barber would have music playing over the speakers, or occasionally someone would be in there performing live on a guitar, or the nightly news would be on for everyone to add their own two cents to, and he has this black and brown dachshund dog that would just lay there basking in the windowsill, unbothered by all of the commotion around him. But my state is one of the more totalitarian ones, and so in order to keep his business during the covid lockdowns he had to transition to entirely online scheduling, no more loitering in the shop because it was a contagion risk. I know that we as denizens of the Internet were able to, for the most part, adapt to being sequestered off in our homes for years, and I'm grateful for what the physical isolation allowed us to build here in the VTubing sphere, but it's still bittersweet, seeing the incalculable damage those times inflicted on people and communities all over the country, many of which will take decades to fully recover from if they recover at all.
Still Get Free Shots Though, John Nyadams
Recent events in VTubing have gotten me thinking about gendered spaces, and as reparations for my kind entering the predominately female space of VTubing and using the concept of an all-encompassing "VTubing community" as a pretense to approach and ensnare vulnerable women, I'd like to share with you one of the male gender's sacred spaces: The barber. Now I know that women value their hair very dearly just as men do, but I'm not quite sure if the salons or hairdressers women frequent share the same kind of camaraderie as men do with their barbers. The barber is a focal point of the community, hundreds of heads pass under his blade each week, people sharing their dreams and their fears, people preparing for the next phase of life or love, people striving to be their best selves and wanting to look the part. And the customers build a repertoire with the barber in kind. I've been going to the same barber for almost twenty years, he's a friend of the family. I don't even have to tell him what I want, I just sit in the chair and he gives me a perfect haircut every time, because he has such an intimate understanding of each person who walks through his doors that he knows just what people need.
The place used to be much more lively before covid. There was this long wooden bench along one wall of the shop, and you could just walk in and sit down and people would be arguing or shooting the shit or passing around shots on Friday nights as they wait for their haircut. The barber would have music playing over the speakers, or occasionally someone would be in there performing live on a guitar, or the nightly news would be on for everyone to add their own two cents to, and he has this black and brown dachshund dog that would just lay there basking in the windowsill, unbothered by all of the commotion around him. But my state is one of the more totalitarian ones, and so in order to keep his business during the covid lockdowns he had to transition to entirely online scheduling, no more loitering in the shop because it was a contagion risk. I know that we as denizens of the Internet were able to, for the most part, adapt to being sequestered off in our homes for years, and I'm grateful for what the physical isolation allowed us to build here in the VTubing sphere, but it's still bittersweet, seeing the incalculable damage those times inflicted on people and communities all over the country, many of which will take decades to fully recover from if they recover at all.
Still Get Free Shots Though, John Nyadams
My Dearest Callie,
I'm not sure what to write about today. I have no developments or revelations to share. But I said that I would write to you each day you were gone, and I intend to keep my word. You are still in my mind, there just isn't much else in there at the moment.
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, John Nyadams
I'm not sure what to write about today. I have no developments or revelations to share. But I said that I would write to you each day you were gone, and I intend to keep my word. You are still in my mind, there just isn't much else in there at the moment.
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, John Nyadams
My Dearest Callie,
Hunger overtakes me. Today is meal prep day, and I've started the process a little later than I would have liked, leaving me dinnerless well past my usual meal time. All I can think about is food right now, with the simmering pot insidiously seeping its tantalizing aroma throughout my home, so attached to this letter is the recipe I use for 10 quarts of bolognese sauce. It can be portioned into ice cube trays and, when frozen, can last for weeks in the freezer. I just reheat a few cubes of sauce and a serving of frozen vegetables while I boil the pasta and I get to enjoy deep, flavorful, substantial bolognese in just 15 minutes. In my life-long struggle to nurture my own agency, procuring my own ingredients and cooking my own meals was something that I've wanted to do for years. Finally being able to have that control over my life, it makes every breath of air fresher, and every bite of food more vibrant and fulfilling. Please forgive the abrupt end to this letter. If I wait any longer to confront my tormentors I'll end up eating a third of the pot in one night.
https://files.catbox.moe/p8il8b.txt
Forever Feeding, John Nyadams
Hunger overtakes me. Today is meal prep day, and I've started the process a little later than I would have liked, leaving me dinnerless well past my usual meal time. All I can think about is food right now, with the simmering pot insidiously seeping its tantalizing aroma throughout my home, so attached to this letter is the recipe I use for 10 quarts of bolognese sauce. It can be portioned into ice cube trays and, when frozen, can last for weeks in the freezer. I just reheat a few cubes of sauce and a serving of frozen vegetables while I boil the pasta and I get to enjoy deep, flavorful, substantial bolognese in just 15 minutes. In my life-long struggle to nurture my own agency, procuring my own ingredients and cooking my own meals was something that I've wanted to do for years. Finally being able to have that control over my life, it makes every breath of air fresher, and every bite of food more vibrant and fulfilling. Please forgive the abrupt end to this letter. If I wait any longer to confront my tormentors I'll end up eating a third of the pot in one night.
https://files.catbox.moe/p8il8b.txt
Forever Feeding, John Nyadams
My Dearest Callie,
In light of the on-going events happening at our capital, I've been seeing videos lately of people on TikTok threatening to mug people for their groceries once the funding for the EBT program dries up on the first of the month. Not growing up in the best of places, I've always been somewhat fearful of being out and about in my community, and seeing these videos does not do well for my confidence. I'm not sure how inner-city crime compares to crime in the dusty heartlands of America, but around here things can get violent very quickly and for no good reason. Around here your best defense is knowing what areas to avoid and when, which isn't always possible. I've known people who didn't even make it out of highschool, getting struck down just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, killed for whatever they happened to have in their pockets. It's scary, and it feels as if the only solution is to flee, which is less than feasible right now. But I know that it's important to not let that fear take over my life. I go outside pretty regularly, either for necessities or self-improvement or enrichment, and when I do talk to people, everyone's nice. People are just trying to go about their day, live their own lives. I do get approached by homeless people, but I usually just give them a couple bucks as thanks for not killing me outright. I have to hold on to those good interactions, laud those feelings as proof that it's not all just death and destruction out there. Though I'll probably drive a little farther out of the city to buy groceries, just for a little bit. I don't know what it's like where you live, but you stay safe too.
Forever Alert, John Nyadams
In light of the on-going events happening at our capital, I've been seeing videos lately of people on TikTok threatening to mug people for their groceries once the funding for the EBT program dries up on the first of the month. Not growing up in the best of places, I've always been somewhat fearful of being out and about in my community, and seeing these videos does not do well for my confidence. I'm not sure how inner-city crime compares to crime in the dusty heartlands of America, but around here things can get violent very quickly and for no good reason. Around here your best defense is knowing what areas to avoid and when, which isn't always possible. I've known people who didn't even make it out of highschool, getting struck down just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, killed for whatever they happened to have in their pockets. It's scary, and it feels as if the only solution is to flee, which is less than feasible right now. But I know that it's important to not let that fear take over my life. I go outside pretty regularly, either for necessities or self-improvement or enrichment, and when I do talk to people, everyone's nice. People are just trying to go about their day, live their own lives. I do get approached by homeless people, but I usually just give them a couple bucks as thanks for not killing me outright. I have to hold on to those good interactions, laud those feelings as proof that it's not all just death and destruction out there. Though I'll probably drive a little farther out of the city to buy groceries, just for a little bit. I don't know what it's like where you live, but you stay safe too.
Forever Alert, John Nyadams
My Dearest Callie,
As I was driving today, I was taken aback by a beautiful scene. The road ahead was framed by a row of trees on both sides, their leaves swaying in the cool breeze as a smattering of them become dislodged and flutter to the ground, while a flock of birds jumps to life from the activity and takes flight through the trees. I've driven down this road hundreds of times, but today it put a rare smile on my face. Not that I'm unhappy mind you, I just have somewhat of a resting bitch face. I remember when I first realized the beauty of nature. It was my first day of college, and I had some time in between classes, so I was exploring the campus. In between the school building and the dorms there was this path that leads through the grass, and on that path there was a gentle pond with fish it, surrounded by flowers, with a metal bench facing it that was being shaded by a patch of trees. As I sat there and watched the fish and listened to the sounds of nature, I had an epiphany. It was like I had awoken from a long slumber, snapped into consciousness just as I had when I was a young boy and that last synapse clicked into place and granted me sentience. And I could finally see the tranquil beauty of the world around me. Though I still don't like dirt. Or bugs. Or fish. Or wild animals. Or the heat. Or the blinding sunlight. Or swimming in open bodies of water.
I Just Like Looking At It, John Nyadams
As I was driving today, I was taken aback by a beautiful scene. The road ahead was framed by a row of trees on both sides, their leaves swaying in the cool breeze as a smattering of them become dislodged and flutter to the ground, while a flock of birds jumps to life from the activity and takes flight through the trees. I've driven down this road hundreds of times, but today it put a rare smile on my face. Not that I'm unhappy mind you, I just have somewhat of a resting bitch face. I remember when I first realized the beauty of nature. It was my first day of college, and I had some time in between classes, so I was exploring the campus. In between the school building and the dorms there was this path that leads through the grass, and on that path there was a gentle pond with fish it, surrounded by flowers, with a metal bench facing it that was being shaded by a patch of trees. As I sat there and watched the fish and listened to the sounds of nature, I had an epiphany. It was like I had awoken from a long slumber, snapped into consciousness just as I had when I was a young boy and that last synapse clicked into place and granted me sentience. And I could finally see the tranquil beauty of the world around me. Though I still don't like dirt. Or bugs. Or fish. Or wild animals. Or the heat. Or the blinding sunlight. Or swimming in open bodies of water.
I Just Like Looking At It, John Nyadams
My Dearest Callie,
I don't have much in the way of writing for you today. I spent most of the day out and about, and came home to relax in front of the warm, toasty LED glow of my monitor.
I saw your tweet about feeling embarrassed over inserting yourself into your fanfiction writing. I debated writing some fanfiction of my own, as a way to sort of stand in solidarity with you. But after thinking it over for a while, there's nothing I'd really want to write about. I considered making up a story involving you as your magical girl persona and me as a calley cat, but I thought that would be too weird. The idea of writing fanfiction about a real person makes me uncomfortable, even if it's your VTuber persona. There's no fictional characters I feel strongly enough about to want to write a story involving them either. The narrative aspect isn't really one that brings me pleasure in this sense, I much more prefer to just drop into a scenario and then drop out when I'm done. Maybe I'm just not cut out to write fanfiction. I should focus on the writing that I'm actually good at, like pretending to be a cat man from colonial America.
Not A Fujo, John Nyadams
I don't have much in the way of writing for you today. I spent most of the day out and about, and came home to relax in front of the warm, toasty LED glow of my monitor.
I saw your tweet about feeling embarrassed over inserting yourself into your fanfiction writing. I debated writing some fanfiction of my own, as a way to sort of stand in solidarity with you. But after thinking it over for a while, there's nothing I'd really want to write about. I considered making up a story involving you as your magical girl persona and me as a calley cat, but I thought that would be too weird. The idea of writing fanfiction about a real person makes me uncomfortable, even if it's your VTuber persona. There's no fictional characters I feel strongly enough about to want to write a story involving them either. The narrative aspect isn't really one that brings me pleasure in this sense, I much more prefer to just drop into a scenario and then drop out when I'm done. Maybe I'm just not cut out to write fanfiction. I should focus on the writing that I'm actually good at, like pretending to be a cat man from colonial America.
Not A Fujo, John Nyadams