I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me. - Virginia Woolf
with each breath, deeper to each core the body holds connecting light to silent sight within, the darkness folds awakening the sleeper each moment passes a skipping stone connects to the water’s surface rippling ad infinitum each hovering lapse of passing through the air (the air we breathe) stretching awareness over four corners cardinal elements coalescing fragmented only in seeing selves seeing selves when two sets of eyes gaze into each other and see mirrors stretch in endless reiteration with each sigh and closing eye with each smile we wear with pride with each muscle fiber coming to relax we instill, in self, the greatness of it all in every meditative venture into ever expanding silence we reach deeper toward the truth speaking without thought becoming present becoming diaphanous, intangible permeable sheets of white light transparent vessels of time we dissolve and become Forever
coloured a lil jinsoul sketch
I sat on the floor of my kitchen. I had the refrigerator door open while eating strawberries off my fingers and ice cream straight out of the container.
I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’m supposed to be working when I’m supposed to be in bed.
I moved schools in the middle of the year. Now, I have a crapload of work to do. The list is like a mile long. I don’t think anyone can see that it’s next to impossible to complete three months’ worth of school work in a week. They can’t see me slam down my head on the table as tears begin to form in my eyes. They can’t see my brain cast a spell that takes away my focus two seconds after I start to buckle down. I’ll never finish my missing assignments. I’m not saying that because I’ve given up. I’m saying that because the school has given me more work than I can feasibly do. I’m so drained that I don’t know if I need a hug, a therapist, ten energy drinks, six months of sleep, or to get hit by a car.
My teachers should drop this expectation that I need to complete three months’ worth of work in a week entirely. I mean, they have my files from my old school. Why isn’t that enough?
I heard a thump thump on the side of the house. I just blew it off at first. It sounded like a heavy piece of furniture falling off the back of a truck. People always blow through the street with unsecured furniture in their cars. It’s like it never occurs to people that they need to tie their shit down.
But then, something else popped into my head: Christmas Eve from when I was four years old. I remember my parents had to go away overnight because Mom had a job interview with the rest stop supply company, and dad had to drive her because she had her license suspended. After all, she had a seizure behind the wheel. Grandpa George came over to babysit. When everybody was asleep, the phone rang. The ringing phone woke me up. I answered it, and I heard a menacing voice that said, “It’s midnight. Do you know if Sandy is alive?” Worse still, I later discovered that the calls were coming from the basement. What if this was the same thing?
The thumping got louder. It sounded like the thumps came from inside the house. I heard screeches now, too.
Immediately, I booked it to the closet, slammed the doors, and blocked them closed with the shoe rack. The shoes fell all over the floor. I didn’t care. If they tried to get me, they would have tripped over the shoes strewn around.
I sat in my hiding place and watched the hangers vibrate ever so slightly with each noise. It doesn’t sound like they’re in the house anymore, but I can hear them screeching from outside. I cautiously emerged from the closet and intently studied the tiny picture that hangs over the landing at the bottom of the stairs. The painting flapped against the wall with each thump. Who are they, I think to myself, what do they want?
I saw the source of the thumping the minute I looked outside. It was a guy stuck in a garbage bag except for his legs. He struggled to get the garbage bag off. I watched him and wondered why you didn’t try and open the garbage bag from the inside. It took him a few minutes, but he got the garbage bag off, and now I see why he couldn’t get the garbage bag off from the inside. Instead of a head and torso, he had a giant metal electrical plug. The screeching came from the tongues of the plug scraping across the metal of our garage door. The thumping came from him trying to plug himself into the electrical outlet outside.
Now, his plan would have worked had either the outlet been human-sized, or he had been outlet-sized. Instead, he fell off our deck into the yard. His skinny little legs wiggled as he landed in the cedar hedge.
I took that as my cue to go to bed. Try not to think about it too much, I thought to myself; you’re just hallucinating from lack of sleep.
Elder (Sambucus Nigra)
Yuu in a Yukata.
Jammer Miya for my Sk8 roller derby au!! I had a lot of fun drawing this!! I was so sad I had to forgo the cat ears and tail but in roller derby having extremities like that is a really bad idea. So his hoodie got changed up a bit and I tried to make his skates look like his board!! Lemme know what you think
|click for quality|
Saw a dumb take abt how some people who dont engage in or study leftist/feminist/transpositive theory or end up falling down the TERF rabbit hole bc terfs dedicate all their time to misconstruing data and science and trans blogs aren't always about being trans. Which like good point
They directed it at afabs which is why it was dumb
"Days go by when I do nothing"
It's not the movement that I'm missing but the very desire to move.
Someone order a Dave? Quick Dave painting. I’m thinking about going back to doing more polished pieces, but that’ll take me longer (and I mean longer) to do because honestly? Sort of liked those better or doing doodles in more monochrome aesthetic, I really liked the previous Vriska piece. So I guess I’m going to be slower with my work. I will be posting stuff from last year that’s on my main tumblr to get more of a gist of what I’m talking about, and also my anatomy would be less rushed. I think I was just trying to pump out art and that’s not good. I want to go back to taking my time, and I feel like I’m limiting myself. So that’s what I’m going to do now because I miss the way I used to do art instead of trying to be a machine. I’m going to expand again because you can see the fluctuation of the various art pieces. The first Vriska piece was my first attempt at really stylized art, and now I’m like quality control? What happened.
A portrait I did a while back
Jue., 17 de Junio, 2021
Escuchar su risa genuina del otro lado del teléfono hace que mis días siempre se sientan llenos de luz ✨