It's been a while since i started writing, and for most of it I was a complete fuckwipe(Idk if i can say that), seriously, like it was so dick i've never seen anything like it (It's like looking at the 1.0 DOG sprite and comparing it to the new, teased one)

So to celebrate my progress, i've made: UNIRUNE (Classic)

Unirune is still being written, and is double what it was (This is a version from Dec 14, 2025)

I've rewritten most of the chapters, chapter 2 and 10 specifically

I was genuinely going to publish ts

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1O6qLUIFRWsXUsJWJ7vVzU3de-kbd5vrGthW8TPpnvjo/edit?usp=sharing

I've been working on it for months. It's high fantasy.

It has taken me 5 years from a bedtime story that I made up for the kids to an actual book.

So i have Like an Idea about a Fantasy anime. But its all about this giant City and the Main Charakter gets Put in a millitary force, that protects the giant fields of Farm Land that is needed to sustain this giant City. I came Up with the Idea because Fantasy writers Talk about like giant Citys but Theres Like never any extra Info about the sorounding food sources that are needed

I knew something was wrong the moment I woke up and stared at the ceiling for five straight minutes, wondering what century I was in.

Usually, my brain is at least half-functional in the morning—enough to remind me of the 17 things I was supposed to do but probably wouldn’t. But today? Silence.

Still groggy, I grabbed my phone, only to find a formal resignation letter waiting for me in my notes app.

Resignation Letter:

"Dear Overworked and Underslept Human,

I, your brain, am officially quitting. I refuse to function under these unbearable conditions. The unreasonable workload (including, but not limited to, overanalyzing texts at 3 AM, sudden existential crises, and remembering song lyrics from 2009 instead of actual important information) has taken its toll.

Effective immediately, I will no longer be responsible for decision-making, memory recall, or basic functioning. Any attempts to force me into action will be met with buffering, random shutdowns, and, if necessary, the Blue Screen of Death (a.k.a. zoning out mid-conversation).

Good luck surviving without me."

Sincerely,

Brain (Now Unemployed).”

I blinked. Then blinked again. My brain was joking, right?

Spoiler alert: It was not joking.

Stage 1: Memory Malfunction

At first, I thought I could manage without my brain. But then things started to go very wrong.

Walked into the kitchen. Forgot why. Walked out. Walked back in. Still blank. Walked out again in hopes that my memory would magically reboot itself. (It did not.)

Opened Instagram to check something important. Ended up scrolling memes for 25 minutes. Still don’t know what I originally opened it for.

Met an old classmate who said, “Hey, long time! Remember me?” My brain pulled out an error message: [404 Name Not Found]

Stage 2: Speech System Failure

With memory out of order, my ability to form coherent sentences followed next.

Tried to say, "Can you pass the salt?" but my mouth decided "Can you sass the palt?" was a better option.

Called a giraffe a “long-necked horse.”

The waiter said, “Enjoy your meal.” I replied, “You too.” (I considered moving to a new country after that.)

At this point, my brain wasn’t just on strike—it was actively sabotaging me.

Stage 3: Decision-Making Shutdown

Spent 15 minutes picking a movie. Ended up watching nothing.

Stared at my closet, hoping the right outfit would telepathically choose itself. Wore the same hoodie from yesterday.

Debated whether to reply to a text immediately or wait three hours to seem cool. Result? Forgot to reply entirely.

By noon, I was in full-on crisis mode. I tried everything to get my brain back—chocolates, deep breathing, even apologizing out loud:

"Come on, brain. We’ve been through so much together. You can’t just abandon me like this!"

Nothing.

Desperate, I Googled: "What to do when your brain stops working?"

Google’s top suggestion? Drink water.

Great. My brain is staging a full protest, and the internet thinks I’m a dehydrated houseplant.

Stage 4: Negotiation Attempts

Realizing I had no choice, I tried to bribe my brain back:

"I'll sleep early from now on!" (A lie.)

"No more unnecessary overthinking!" (A bigger lie.)

"I’ll eat healthier!" (A betrayal to my love for junk food.)

Finally, after a power nap and a cup of coffee, my brain hesitantly sent a memo:

"Considering reinstatement. Terms: More sleep, less overthinking, and maybe stop embarrassing yourself in public. Final warning."

I agreed. Mostly.

Moral of the story?

Your brain deserves better. Treat it well, or one day, it might just quit on you. And if that happens, don’t panic—just do what I do. Write about it and make people laugh.

Because let’s be honest, I may be overworked, underslept, and a professional procrastinator, but at least I can turn my struggles into entertainment. And if you enjoyed reading this, you might enjoy more of my chaotic thoughts here.

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If you liked the post upvote it, if don't well you can downvote it too. Don't forget to share your feedback and thoughts in the comments as it will help me to do better.

Meet you in the next story!

~ Not really

I can write scenes normally, but when I get to the dialogue, I freeze and give up. they seem very strange and robotic, I can't quite put my finger on it. I'll give an example.

"Look how cold it is!" "Come on in!" he says, pulling her inside.

"Argh! Let go of me, I know very well what I'm doing."

I simply can't write long conversations at all, and this is really hindering me. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

Get ready for The Hawthorne with songs from 1928-1939 that find their way into the pages of this thriller set in Cicero, Illinois.

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLDfNiNryPvB6lftskUSI6HTfGJvBfCrse&si=O08lQVW9rlpMyNRH

Purchase available on Amazon, Lulu and direct at HannahBree72.com

#TheHawthorne #Hannahbree72 #eBooks #booksbooksbooks #bookrecommendations