Sometimes I feel like making a (non-exhaustive) list of things I am lacking. Not sure why. This is such a time.
Shoes without holes worn through the soles. Preferably waterproof.
Inserts for the shoes so I don't fuck up my feet.
Mason jars.
Towels.
Light
A decent surface to work on.
Shirts that fit right so Lonespark doesn't get mad at me for being all indecent and such.
Faith. Hope. A belief that things will get better.
Socks. Always, always socks.
A sewing kit.
Some sort of flea banishment ritual since the usual methods, at the absolute best, put them in remission a bit before their inevitable comeback.
Something to store my jewelry so that the nice things I have, and I do have some nice things, don't disappear into a black hole soon after being acquired.
Spiritual guidance on whether or not creating some ritual that involved the five tiny stone animals I have would constitute idol worship.
Ritual guidance on how to create the above it it won't get me whammied by some god or other.
A tarot deck where the imagery mostly features people with wings (angels if you like) who are fucking poor and just trying to survive. (Bonus points if "The Lovers" are female-Gabriel and Mary.)
That notebook that I lost.
The ability to understand what my cat actually wants rather than being forced to go through every possible thing she might be interested in until one resonates with her.
Folding tray tables (so that I can put plants too large to fit on the windowsill right next to the fucking window because otherwise I fear they won't get enough light to survive the winter.)
Extremely resilient cups that hold at least 30ish oz of water/juice/[life sustaining fluid].
A scale model of 1953 Chevy pickup.
Us not to beat our plowshares into swords for this tired old man who was elected king.
Potatoes. Instant mashed potatoes would be just fine. So would ones that haven't been modified since they were yanked from the ground. Just: potatoes.
The belief that there's some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for.
Faith that Rohan will answer
Something, don't know what, that makes it easier to face the world.
Laywers, guns, and money. Except for the guns. Unless they're Nerf guns. Nerf guns would be good.
Spinach.
Time.
Energy.
Orange Juice.
Faith in humanity as a whole, rather than just subsets of it.
Shorts, that my legs might not rub together until raw.
Yoga pants, ditto.
Some place where I can lay my head.
The ability to finish what I start.
The ability to start.
Tangerines.
Strawberry yogurt.
A donkey.
The resources with which to care for the donkey.
A wagon, as in the size a child can pull, to put my food in for the long trek home from the food store (since I don't have the donkey yet and am therefore my own pack animal.)
Peace of mind.
Shoes without holes worn through the soles. Preferably waterproof.
Inserts for the shoes so I don't fuck up my feet.
Mason jars.
Towels.
Light
A decent surface to work on.
Shirts that fit right so Lonespark doesn't get mad at me for being all indecent and such.
Faith. Hope. A belief that things will get better.
Socks. Always, always socks.
A sewing kit.
Some sort of flea banishment ritual since the usual methods, at the absolute best, put them in remission a bit before their inevitable comeback.
Something to store my jewelry so that the nice things I have, and I do have some nice things, don't disappear into a black hole soon after being acquired.
Spiritual guidance on whether or not creating some ritual that involved the five tiny stone animals I have would constitute idol worship.
Ritual guidance on how to create the above it it won't get me whammied by some god or other.
A tarot deck where the imagery mostly features people with wings (angels if you like) who are fucking poor and just trying to survive. (Bonus points if "The Lovers" are female-Gabriel and Mary.)
That notebook that I lost.
The ability to understand what my cat actually wants rather than being forced to go through every possible thing she might be interested in until one resonates with her.
Folding tray tables (so that I can put plants too large to fit on the windowsill right next to the fucking window because otherwise I fear they won't get enough light to survive the winter.)
Extremely resilient cups that hold at least 30ish oz of water/juice/[life sustaining fluid].
A scale model of 1953 Chevy pickup.
Us not to beat our plowshares into swords for this tired old man who was elected king.
Potatoes. Instant mashed potatoes would be just fine. So would ones that haven't been modified since they were yanked from the ground. Just: potatoes.
Something, don't know what, that makes it easier to face the world.
Laywers, guns, and money. Except for the guns. Unless they're Nerf guns. Nerf guns would be good.
Spinach.
Time.
Energy.
Orange Juice.
Faith in humanity as a whole, rather than just subsets of it.
Shorts, that my legs might not rub together until raw.
Yoga pants, ditto.
Some place where I can lay my head.
The ability to finish what I start.
The ability to start.
Tangerines.
Strawberry yogurt.
A donkey.
The resources with which to care for the donkey.
A wagon, as in the size a child can pull, to put my food in for the long trek home from the food store (since I don't have the donkey yet and am therefore my own pack animal.)
Peace of mind.
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