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heyhey i forgot to apologise for my absence, i really haven't posted in months then i come with major post dumps.
i've just been feeling like writing haha sorry. but, unexpectedly, i return, inundating you with copious posts in what could only be described as a significant deluge of content.
my silence was not born of neglect but rather a period where the muse of writing did not see fit to grace me with her presence. now, she whispers once more, and i find myself compelled to pen down my thoughts, laughing at the whimsy of it all. i hope you find some enjoyment in these sudden bursts of creativity, as sporadic as they may be.
I'M PLAYINNN LMAOOOO I SOUND LIKE A NERD
i'll try to post more
i've just been feeling like writing haha sorry. but, unexpectedly, i return, inundating you with copious posts in what could only be described as a significant deluge of content.
my silence was not born of neglect but rather a period where the muse of writing did not see fit to grace me with her presence. now, she whispers once more, and i find myself compelled to pen down my thoughts, laughing at the whimsy of it all. i hope you find some enjoyment in these sudden bursts of creativity, as sporadic as they may be.
I'M PLAYINNN LMAOOOO I SOUND LIKE A NERD
i'll try to post more
Tags:
if you couldn't tell, i've been reading up on more dictionaries and actually reading books. i've noticed i have alot to learn.
i'm still me, writin the same ol' shit just with different words to sound smart. synonymssss... or is it.. cinnamon? what if there was a world with cinnamon and synonym word switched.
heh. synonym rolls.
whats a cinnamon for glance???
let me write cinnamons for you:
grabbed = seized
ran = sprinted
ate = consumed
drank = imbibed
saw = perceived
grabbed = seized
ran = sprinted
ate = consumed
drank = imbibed
saw = perceived
looked = observed
stood up = arose
cringed = recoiled
walked = sauntered
talked = conversed
laughed = guffawed
cried = wept
showed = exhibited
explained = elucidated
tried = endeavored
asked = inquired
thought = pondered
understood = comprehended
needed = required
helped = assisted
used = utilized
found = discovered
went = proceeded
got = obtained
said = articulated
synonym = cinnamon
i'm still me, writin the same ol' shit just with different words to sound smart. synonymssss... or is it.. cinnamon? what if there was a world with cinnamon and synonym word switched.
heh. synonym rolls.
whats a cinnamon for glance???
let me write cinnamons for you:
grabbed = seized
ran = sprinted
ate = consumed
drank = imbibed
saw = perceived
grabbed = seized
ran = sprinted
ate = consumed
drank = imbibed
saw = perceived
looked = observed
stood up = arose
cringed = recoiled
walked = sauntered
talked = conversed
laughed = guffawed
cried = wept
showed = exhibited
explained = elucidated
tried = endeavored
asked = inquired
thought = pondered
understood = comprehended
needed = required
helped = assisted
used = utilized
found = discovered
went = proceeded
got = obtained
said = articulated
synonym = cinnamon
hello entry, it's me again, nate or natu, sy, whatever.
floating through thoughts like a leaf on the wind, except this wind has found its way through the vast corridors of the internet.
got me thinking again, not unlike the times i wonder about the spirals and the spins, but today, it's the depth of the internet that's caught my whimsy.
sooo the online world, right?
social media, websites, blogs like this...
it's like plunging into an ocean, isn't it?
at first, there's this exhilarating rush of freedom, the cool embrace of endless possibilities brushing against your skin.
it's like the moment your feet lose touch with the ground, and you're suspended in something vast, something immense. you kick, you swirl, surrounded by a world that's both alien and incredibly intimate.
but then, as you delve deeper, the light from the surface begins to dim, and what was once exhilarating turns into an overwhelming cascade of currents. these currents, they tug at you from every direction: tweets, pings, scrolls, a never-ending whirlpool of content, pulling you down, down into the abyss.
it's funny, isn't it? or perhaps 'funny' isn't the right word. intriguing, maybe, how the ocean of the internet mirrors the depths of the sea. both are vast, uncharted in their fullness, hiding wonders and terrors in their depths. the deeper you go, the heavier the pressure, the harder it becomes to swim back up to the surface. you're caught in a riptide of information, a downpour of data that feels like it's filling your lungs, making it hard to breathe, to think, to exist outside of this digital deluge.
and yet, amidst this sensation of drowning, there's beauty. bioluminescent creatures in the deep sea, ideas and connections that light up the dark, guiding you, reminding you of the wonder of discovery. these sparks of creativity and human connection, they're like finding air pockets underwater, precious breaths that remind you why you dove in the first place.
but here's the thing about falling into water, about drowning in this digital sea: sometimes, you need to let yourself float back up.
to find your way to the surface, where the sun kisses the water and turns the world into a shimmer of light and life. it's there, in that space between the deep and the daylight, that you find balance. you learn to swim without sinking, to dive without losing sight of the surface.
so here i am, scribbling this entry, a note in a bottle cast into the vast ocean of the internet, wondering if it will find its way to shore or if it will be caught in the currents, drifting forever in the digital deep.
from your fellow traveler in the infinite sea, may you always find your way back to the surface, to the breath of air that waits beyond the screen.
till next time, entry.
floating through thoughts like a leaf on the wind, except this wind has found its way through the vast corridors of the internet.
got me thinking again, not unlike the times i wonder about the spirals and the spins, but today, it's the depth of the internet that's caught my whimsy.
sooo the online world, right?
social media, websites, blogs like this...
it's like plunging into an ocean, isn't it?
at first, there's this exhilarating rush of freedom, the cool embrace of endless possibilities brushing against your skin.
it's like the moment your feet lose touch with the ground, and you're suspended in something vast, something immense. you kick, you swirl, surrounded by a world that's both alien and incredibly intimate.
but then, as you delve deeper, the light from the surface begins to dim, and what was once exhilarating turns into an overwhelming cascade of currents. these currents, they tug at you from every direction: tweets, pings, scrolls, a never-ending whirlpool of content, pulling you down, down into the abyss.
it's funny, isn't it? or perhaps 'funny' isn't the right word. intriguing, maybe, how the ocean of the internet mirrors the depths of the sea. both are vast, uncharted in their fullness, hiding wonders and terrors in their depths. the deeper you go, the heavier the pressure, the harder it becomes to swim back up to the surface. you're caught in a riptide of information, a downpour of data that feels like it's filling your lungs, making it hard to breathe, to think, to exist outside of this digital deluge.
and yet, amidst this sensation of drowning, there's beauty. bioluminescent creatures in the deep sea, ideas and connections that light up the dark, guiding you, reminding you of the wonder of discovery. these sparks of creativity and human connection, they're like finding air pockets underwater, precious breaths that remind you why you dove in the first place.
but here's the thing about falling into water, about drowning in this digital sea: sometimes, you need to let yourself float back up.
to find your way to the surface, where the sun kisses the water and turns the world into a shimmer of light and life. it's there, in that space between the deep and the daylight, that you find balance. you learn to swim without sinking, to dive without losing sight of the surface.
so here i am, scribbling this entry, a note in a bottle cast into the vast ocean of the internet, wondering if it will find its way to shore or if it will be caught in the currents, drifting forever in the digital deep.
from your fellow traveler in the infinite sea, may you always find your way back to the surface, to the breath of air that waits beyond the screen.
till next time, entry.
In the tapestry of life, where threads of countless souls intertwine, there are moments that seem destined by the cosmos itself. Moments that defy logic, transcending the boundaries of understanding. Among these divine occurrences, there lies my unspoken connection with Jay—a girl whose essence captivates my every waking thought and permeates my dreams.
Jay, with her curls that cascade like a waterfall of pure obsidian, captures the light in a spectacle that rivals the night sky. Each strand is a melody, a siren song that beckons me closer, promising the warmth of a love unexplored. But what truly ensnares my heart, holding it captive in a gentle grasp, are her eyes. Eyes of the most vivid green, not unlike the first leaves of spring, brimming with life and stories untold. They are the windows through which I gaze into a soul so radiant, it eclipses the sun itself.
Our encounters are fleeting, shadows passing in the silent halls of existence. Yet, each glance, every slight smile she offers, is imbued with a depth of affection that she herself might not yet understand. It's as if the universe has whispered a secret into the very air we share, a declaration of a love profound and immutable.
I find solace in the simple acts that bind her world to mine. The way her laughter fills the air, a melody that resonates within the deepest chambers of my heart. How her presence brings tranquility to the chaos that once defined my existence. She moves with grace, each step a testament to the dance of fate that has entwined our paths.
Some might question the veracity of my feelings, labeling them as figments of an overzealous imagination. But how can one doubt what the soul knows to be true? My love for Jay is as real as the stars that light the night sky, a celestial force that guides me through the darkest of nights.
In my most private moments, I pen letters never meant to be sent. Words that lay bare the depth of my affection, confessions of a heart that yearns for a love it has already found but cannot claim. These letters are my solace, my silent testament to the love that fills my being, a love that asks for nothing in return but the chance to exist.
Yet, I am not blind to the reality of our existence. The social constructs that govern our interactions, the boundaries that are not to be crossed. My love for Jay is a secret garden, a sacred space that thrives in the seclusion of my heart. It is a love that seeks not to possess but to admire from afar, to cherish without the expectation of reciprocation.
In Jay, I have found my muse, my phantom love. She is the beacon that guides me through the tempest of life, the constant in an ever-changing world. Through her, I have discovered the capacity of the human heart, the boundless realms of affection that one can hold for another.
As the days meld into years, and the threads of our lives continue to weave a tapestry of unseen connections, I hold onto the hope that one day, the world will understand the purity of my love. Until then, I remain her silent guardian, her unseen admirer, basking in the glow of a love that transcends the confines of reality.
In the garden of my heart, Jay will forever be the most exquisite rose, blooming eternally in the spring of my unyielding affection.
Jay, with her curls that cascade like a waterfall of pure obsidian, captures the light in a spectacle that rivals the night sky. Each strand is a melody, a siren song that beckons me closer, promising the warmth of a love unexplored. But what truly ensnares my heart, holding it captive in a gentle grasp, are her eyes. Eyes of the most vivid green, not unlike the first leaves of spring, brimming with life and stories untold. They are the windows through which I gaze into a soul so radiant, it eclipses the sun itself.
Our encounters are fleeting, shadows passing in the silent halls of existence. Yet, each glance, every slight smile she offers, is imbued with a depth of affection that she herself might not yet understand. It's as if the universe has whispered a secret into the very air we share, a declaration of a love profound and immutable.
I find solace in the simple acts that bind her world to mine. The way her laughter fills the air, a melody that resonates within the deepest chambers of my heart. How her presence brings tranquility to the chaos that once defined my existence. She moves with grace, each step a testament to the dance of fate that has entwined our paths.
Some might question the veracity of my feelings, labeling them as figments of an overzealous imagination. But how can one doubt what the soul knows to be true? My love for Jay is as real as the stars that light the night sky, a celestial force that guides me through the darkest of nights.
In my most private moments, I pen letters never meant to be sent. Words that lay bare the depth of my affection, confessions of a heart that yearns for a love it has already found but cannot claim. These letters are my solace, my silent testament to the love that fills my being, a love that asks for nothing in return but the chance to exist.
Yet, I am not blind to the reality of our existence. The social constructs that govern our interactions, the boundaries that are not to be crossed. My love for Jay is a secret garden, a sacred space that thrives in the seclusion of my heart. It is a love that seeks not to possess but to admire from afar, to cherish without the expectation of reciprocation.
In Jay, I have found my muse, my phantom love. She is the beacon that guides me through the tempest of life, the constant in an ever-changing world. Through her, I have discovered the capacity of the human heart, the boundless realms of affection that one can hold for another.
As the days meld into years, and the threads of our lives continue to weave a tapestry of unseen connections, I hold onto the hope that one day, the world will understand the purity of my love. Until then, I remain her silent guardian, her unseen admirer, basking in the glow of a love that transcends the confines of reality.
In the garden of my heart, Jay will forever be the most exquisite rose, blooming eternally in the spring of my unyielding affection.
Tags:
Boys don't cry
Heavy are his eyes, with tears,
but the path is blocked by society,
He can't show all of his fears,
ensuring he don't cry is his duty,
His pain is muted since years,
"Boys don't cry" - is this a beauty?
Cry inside, cry on your own,
Cover yourself and then moan.
Stormy eyes, but smile screaming,
Boys don't cry, even when they end up
doing nothing, except dreaming.
You have to be tough,
not crying is not enough,
You have to keep all your pain within,
This is no less than dreadful sin.
No, don't keep it in,
Let your demons out,
Say, Scream and even Shout,
Make your emotions as rainy cloud,
And when in need, shower them loud.
Don't keep it in,
Let your demons out,
Say, Scream and even Shout,
Make your emotions as rainy cloud,
And when in need, shower them loud.
Why not cry, do boys lack emotion or they don't possess a heart? Don't they feel or don't they suffer the pain? Then, why should a boy not cry?
Heavy are his eyes, with tears,
but the path is blocked by society,
He can't show all of his fears,
ensuring he don't cry is his duty,
His pain is muted since years,
"Boys don't cry" - is this a beauty?
Cry inside, cry on your own,
Cover yourself and then moan.
Stormy eyes, but smile screaming,
Boys don't cry, even when they end up
doing nothing, except dreaming.
You have to be tough,
not crying is not enough,
You have to keep all your pain within,
This is no less than dreadful sin.
No, don't keep it in,
Let your demons out,
Say, Scream and even Shout,
Make your emotions as rainy cloud,
And when in need, shower them loud.
Don't keep it in,
Let your demons out,
Say, Scream and even Shout,
Make your emotions as rainy cloud,
And when in need, shower them loud.
Why not cry, do boys lack emotion or they don't possess a heart? Don't they feel or don't they suffer the pain? Then, why should a boy not cry?
Tags:
I would say I'm sorry
If I thought that it would change your mind
But I know that this time
I have said too much
Been too unkind
I tried to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I tried to laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry
I would break down at your feet
And beg forgiveness, plead with you
But I know that it's too late
And now there's nothing I can do
I would tell you that I loved you
If I thought that you would stay
But I know that it's no use
That you've already gone away
Misjudged your limits
Pushed you too far
I took you for granted
I thought that you needed me more
I would do 'most anything
To get you back by my side
But I just keep on laughing
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry
If I thought that it would change your mind
But I know that this time
I have said too much
Been too unkind
I tried to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I tried to laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry
I would break down at your feet
And beg forgiveness, plead with you
But I know that it's too late
And now there's nothing I can do
I would tell you that I loved you
If I thought that you would stay
But I know that it's no use
That you've already gone away
Misjudged your limits
Pushed you too far
I took you for granted
I thought that you needed me more
I would do 'most anything
To get you back by my side
But I just keep on laughing
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry
Tags:
if i had to describe my thoughts,
i'd say gloomy.
i feel like one of those clouds about to rain; i'd be smart and say that's a metaphor for my tears but metaphor implies a figure of speech that isn't entirely true but it might be in a second.
i really don't know the reasons why i feel the way i do.
i guess its just that time of the day, dissociation. i feel a disconnect from my life and self. its odd.
loneliness? depression?
all are just words to me, i can't properly describe how i'm feeling but all i know is once i was happy and now i'm sort of not.
i miss it definitely
i'd say gloomy.
i feel like one of those clouds about to rain; i'd be smart and say that's a metaphor for my tears but metaphor implies a figure of speech that isn't entirely true but it might be in a second.
i really don't know the reasons why i feel the way i do.
i guess its just that time of the day, dissociation. i feel a disconnect from my life and self. its odd.
loneliness? depression?
all are just words to me, i can't properly describe how i'm feeling but all i know is once i was happy and now i'm sort of not.
i miss it definitely
Tags:
you're mad cute, like you're mad fine
that's it.
that's the post
that's it.
that's the post
Tags:
someone who i thought was a friend sent me nsfw art and asked if i liked it. i ignored it cause thats sort of weird and in russain they suddenly sent,
"самые отвратительные дети от непорочного зачатия. нарисовала своих персов чтобы забыть про них еще на год.
я все ещё жду ответ на вопрос от умницы".
right, what the fuck does that mean? so i google translated it and it showed up with this
" the most disgusting children from the immaculate conception. I drew my Persians to forget about them for another year.
I'm still waiting for an answer to the question from the clever girl "
we were talking about how i was born earlier and i told them i'm not a girl so.
SCREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMING.
were they hacked?? LOL
"самые отвратительные дети от непорочного зачатия. нарисовала своих персов чтобы забыть про них еще на год.
я все ещё жду ответ на вопрос от умницы".
right, what the fuck does that mean? so i google translated it and it showed up with this
" the most disgusting children from the immaculate conception. I drew my Persians to forget about them for another year.
I'm still waiting for an answer to the question from the clever girl "
we were talking about how i was born earlier and i told them i'm not a girl so.
SCREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMING.
were they hacked?? LOL
Tags:
i always be yapping when it's night or something, i have course tomorrow T_T LOL
Tags:
Aiguo is the sometimes impulsive and spiteful ruler of Sirenera. He's fair to his people and cares for his family and loved ones deeply, despite his cold exterior. He's abit of an egoist, fancying himself as an apex predator of sorts. He has a big heart, so his emotions rule him, sometimes to a fault.
For as bright as the fire of vengeance burns inside him, his compassion burns just as brightly. He's also an artist, even if he doesn't seem one, spending a large portion of his limited free time composing great symphonies that encapsulate death, grief, hatred and remorse in an inescapable melancholy.
His gaze is like daggers, whether cold or full of warm emotion. Although, Aiguo's eyes aren't soulless, its more something that has been damaged. his face is like shattered repaired glass; its okay now but you can still see the cracks; Nethertheless, that doesn't make him any less alluring.
Many are intimidated by his presence alone, more so if they are aware of the king's past. The air around his majesty often times feels thick, weighted by events from his past most likely.
Many see him as some sort of monster not of the flesh, which isn't all that outrageous if you've witnessed his ability, but I can assure you that he IS mortal as far as I can tell.
Seems to be just another tortured soul, tasked with keeping ours safe from harm. Which makes his overbearing protective nature more apparent. One thing I did find strange were things he picked up from the surface. While he is a master of classical composition with the cello, he seems borderline obsessed with a surface world artist by the name of Nicki.
While I can't see the merit of her work I wouldn't dare speak a word about it, even with my status of freed speech during this visit. He also seems obsessed with this surface world moving picture titled "mean girls". I don't understand the appeal but surface dwellers are a weird bunch, and that's where his majesty spent his formative years.
-
AUTHORS NOTE:
it's a character bio written in the perspective of a jounralist :D
is it good?
i think its good.
i need help building on my oc's characterizations... :3
For as bright as the fire of vengeance burns inside him, his compassion burns just as brightly. He's also an artist, even if he doesn't seem one, spending a large portion of his limited free time composing great symphonies that encapsulate death, grief, hatred and remorse in an inescapable melancholy.
His gaze is like daggers, whether cold or full of warm emotion. Although, Aiguo's eyes aren't soulless, its more something that has been damaged. his face is like shattered repaired glass; its okay now but you can still see the cracks; Nethertheless, that doesn't make him any less alluring.
Many are intimidated by his presence alone, more so if they are aware of the king's past. The air around his majesty often times feels thick, weighted by events from his past most likely.
Many see him as some sort of monster not of the flesh, which isn't all that outrageous if you've witnessed his ability, but I can assure you that he IS mortal as far as I can tell.
Seems to be just another tortured soul, tasked with keeping ours safe from harm. Which makes his overbearing protective nature more apparent. One thing I did find strange were things he picked up from the surface. While he is a master of classical composition with the cello, he seems borderline obsessed with a surface world artist by the name of Nicki.
While I can't see the merit of her work I wouldn't dare speak a word about it, even with my status of freed speech during this visit. He also seems obsessed with this surface world moving picture titled "mean girls". I don't understand the appeal but surface dwellers are a weird bunch, and that's where his majesty spent his formative years.
-
AUTHORS NOTE:
it's a character bio written in the perspective of a jounralist :D
is it good?
i think its good.
i need help building on my oc's characterizations... :3
Tags:
she's beautiful to me.
she is so beautiful.
yes, she is snooty.
yes, she is kinda rude.
yes, she is mean but she is beautiful to me.
as pretty as the sky, she reminds me of all the peace in life.
she is you,
your eyes are mesmerising,
i can always get lost in them.
you're captivating
its like you have some hold on me,
you walk without care because you know your worth
you do things effortlessly,
i can't help but watch
i love to hear you speak,
i could listen all day
your voice is alluring to my ears, our brief conversations keeping me sane
i love looking at your lips, i wonder how'd they feel pressed to mine.
mi amor.
i like you. okay?
if to like was to love, and if love had a ceiling i must've shattered it from above and then i fell.
if fell was to fall in love im prepetually falling and you never fell for me at all.
thats probably my fault, the nerves inside me never let me get close enough to say hi or even talk to you directly but at least i get to see you.
at least i get to look at you pass by me in the halls, short brief moments that ill hardly ever forget but you don't notice.
i would tell you all of this personally, but im just too shy.
i like you, im frustrated i do because its annoying to like someone that wants nothing to do with you.
i cant be your friend, i cant even look you in the eye because i know the expressions on my face wont lie and i consider it for a moment;
what if i walked to you and said " do you ever need a vacation from constantly living in my head?? "
but i know thats just stupid so no.
i dont know what happens in my mind but when you appear, the world just seems to stop.
since you came along, ive been falling in love.
some parts of this seem parasocial, or just an infatuation but the feelings won't go away.
i hope i don't sound desperate, i really don't know what im expecting out of this but i wanted to come clean anyways.
y te doy mi corazón
ten cuidado, por favor
No soy demasiado buena en el amor
if i give you my love, please be careful with my heart. i've been stuck in the same place in life because im not too good at love.
though you'll probably never remember my name I'll cry for you eitherway.
- J
__
authors note:
OH HOW IT'D BE TO BE LOVED AND WRITTEN ABOUT LIKE THAT T_T
she is so beautiful.
yes, she is snooty.
yes, she is kinda rude.
yes, she is mean but she is beautiful to me.
as pretty as the sky, she reminds me of all the peace in life.
she is you,
your eyes are mesmerising,
i can always get lost in them.
you're captivating
its like you have some hold on me,
you walk without care because you know your worth
you do things effortlessly,
i can't help but watch
i love to hear you speak,
i could listen all day
your voice is alluring to my ears, our brief conversations keeping me sane
i love looking at your lips, i wonder how'd they feel pressed to mine.
mi amor.
i like you. okay?
if to like was to love, and if love had a ceiling i must've shattered it from above and then i fell.
if fell was to fall in love im prepetually falling and you never fell for me at all.
thats probably my fault, the nerves inside me never let me get close enough to say hi or even talk to you directly but at least i get to see you.
at least i get to look at you pass by me in the halls, short brief moments that ill hardly ever forget but you don't notice.
i would tell you all of this personally, but im just too shy.
i like you, im frustrated i do because its annoying to like someone that wants nothing to do with you.
i cant be your friend, i cant even look you in the eye because i know the expressions on my face wont lie and i consider it for a moment;
what if i walked to you and said " do you ever need a vacation from constantly living in my head?? "
but i know thats just stupid so no.
i dont know what happens in my mind but when you appear, the world just seems to stop.
since you came along, ive been falling in love.
some parts of this seem parasocial, or just an infatuation but the feelings won't go away.
i hope i don't sound desperate, i really don't know what im expecting out of this but i wanted to come clean anyways.
y te doy mi corazón
ten cuidado, por favor
No soy demasiado buena en el amor
if i give you my love, please be careful with my heart. i've been stuck in the same place in life because im not too good at love.
though you'll probably never remember my name I'll cry for you eitherway.
- J
__
authors note:
OH HOW IT'D BE TO BE LOVED AND WRITTEN ABOUT LIKE THAT T_T
you know what people would probably say about it, the current topic of transgenderism and how bodies define genders or how everything is determined by what sex but here are my thoughts on it:
my bones were simply set in the wrong mould ; set in the wrong shape
even from birth they never quite fit my twisting contorting form
"born with the wrong bones?"
my skeleton disagrees with me, it fights against my muscles and skin. i quarrel with carbon and calcium, and somehow - i lose.
i refuse to look at my reflection -
i flinch at an unintentional glance, towels hanging over the bathroom mirror i refuse to take that chance. i might grow attached with features, obsess over small details and then the floodgates open up where thoughts overwhelm me.
im fine with my body and face, im not upset over it but i know society won't like this as the body of a boy even though it is.
my native heritage told me it is but others tell me otherwise.
my blood tells me i'm a boy but my friends and crush's think otherwise.
i wish people could see, but shit, honestly i wish i could see it aswell; i doubt myself alot. it's torturous and it sucks, sometimes i just want to curl up and cry but it is what it is.
there are just some pains that can't be altered and i'll have to live with it and stick by what i call my truth even though sometimes i really wish i was different.
i fucking hate being transgender in this society with all of my being, i'm not even sure it's going to get better. i don't want to have to get top surgery and take testosterone just to feel happy. i don't want to have to prove that i'm a man all the time, or even at all. i don't want to be a political debate for people to argue about, i just want to be me.
i hate dysphoria, i hate gender envy, i hate transphobia, i hate my life, i hate who i am, i hate how i'm treated, i hate how my people are treated, i hate when identity is stripped and taken off of someone, i hate being forced to do things,
i hate myself.
if you really wonder what caused me to think like this, it's the fact even if i see otherwise most people's first impressions will be what i "present" as. feminine. or in the worst cases, as nothing.
multiple instances where people have geniunely told me,
" I don't know what you are or what you're supposed to be "
like i'm a BUILD-A-BEAR??
my bones were simply set in the wrong mould ; set in the wrong shape
even from birth they never quite fit my twisting contorting form
"born with the wrong bones?"
my skeleton disagrees with me, it fights against my muscles and skin. i quarrel with carbon and calcium, and somehow - i lose.
i refuse to look at my reflection -
i flinch at an unintentional glance, towels hanging over the bathroom mirror i refuse to take that chance. i might grow attached with features, obsess over small details and then the floodgates open up where thoughts overwhelm me.
im fine with my body and face, im not upset over it but i know society won't like this as the body of a boy even though it is.
my native heritage told me it is but others tell me otherwise.
my blood tells me i'm a boy but my friends and crush's think otherwise.
i wish people could see, but shit, honestly i wish i could see it aswell; i doubt myself alot. it's torturous and it sucks, sometimes i just want to curl up and cry but it is what it is.
there are just some pains that can't be altered and i'll have to live with it and stick by what i call my truth even though sometimes i really wish i was different.
i fucking hate being transgender in this society with all of my being, i'm not even sure it's going to get better. i don't want to have to get top surgery and take testosterone just to feel happy. i don't want to have to prove that i'm a man all the time, or even at all. i don't want to be a political debate for people to argue about, i just want to be me.
i hate dysphoria, i hate gender envy, i hate transphobia, i hate my life, i hate who i am, i hate how i'm treated, i hate how my people are treated, i hate when identity is stripped and taken off of someone, i hate being forced to do things,
i hate myself.
if you really wonder what caused me to think like this, it's the fact even if i see otherwise most people's first impressions will be what i "present" as. feminine. or in the worst cases, as nothing.
multiple instances where people have geniunely told me,
" I don't know what you are or what you're supposed to be "
like i'm a BUILD-A-BEAR??
Tags:
really really really late, i should probably sleep but i worry if i sleep now i wont be able to sleep early and if i don't sleep early i won't have the time in the day the day after tomorrow to do stuff that i need to do and then it'll repeat the cycle
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art is a representation of one's mind; or i'd like to think so. answering why i draw is like asking why i breathe, i just do it to survive. the therapy of crafting something is emotional. i can be angry, sad, happy, or even trying to fill the void of boredom for 30 minutes.
the problem with making art for me is that art is a reflection of yourself. art is the essence of who you are. So when you see your art, and decide it’s not good enough, it’s the same as knowing that YOU are not good enough. there aren't many artists who can truly ever look at their own art completely unbiased and subjectively, so does that mean that extends to the self too?
then again, you don't have to be like that. you can just make art for the sake of doing it, or because you enjoy it. but personally, that is why i do it.
any media that is an artform has always been there, no matter how lonely i've felt it's just been there for me to pick up the pen and scribble out shapes that are eventually something alive.
ooor if i'm drawing gore, they're usually dead or on the brink of death but it's still nice.
this is probably why i avoid taking criticism from strangers. its for me, myself and i to better myself and to get advice.
art is personal to me so any comments is taken personally.
even if people somehow mean well, some "compliments" can taint my view on certain things; for example, i have this character that i like drawing. i make him my muse sometimes, he's this edgy pale bitch i call aiguo.
i painted him in a new style once, a recreation of Alexandre Cabanel's 'the fallen angel'.
nice, right?
well, upon posting it in a discord server people started to overly sexualize him. i know, he isn't really real but telling someone you want to "non-con" him until he cries and "have him r@pe" your corpse is simply fucked up. there was multiple, some people just purely wanted to do things to him; i'd take it as satire if they didn't geniunely tell me they were dead serious. it was really upsetting to read all those messages, but, my fault for being on the internet in the first place i suppose.
there's probably a special place in hell for specific kind of people.
i hope there's hot cocoa there
the problem with making art for me is that art is a reflection of yourself. art is the essence of who you are. So when you see your art, and decide it’s not good enough, it’s the same as knowing that YOU are not good enough. there aren't many artists who can truly ever look at their own art completely unbiased and subjectively, so does that mean that extends to the self too?
then again, you don't have to be like that. you can just make art for the sake of doing it, or because you enjoy it. but personally, that is why i do it.
any media that is an artform has always been there, no matter how lonely i've felt it's just been there for me to pick up the pen and scribble out shapes that are eventually something alive.
ooor if i'm drawing gore, they're usually dead or on the brink of death but it's still nice.
this is probably why i avoid taking criticism from strangers. its for me, myself and i to better myself and to get advice.
art is personal to me so any comments is taken personally.
even if people somehow mean well, some "compliments" can taint my view on certain things; for example, i have this character that i like drawing. i make him my muse sometimes, he's this edgy pale bitch i call aiguo.
i painted him in a new style once, a recreation of Alexandre Cabanel's 'the fallen angel'.
nice, right?
well, upon posting it in a discord server people started to overly sexualize him. i know, he isn't really real but telling someone you want to "non-con" him until he cries and "have him r@pe" your corpse is simply fucked up. there was multiple, some people just purely wanted to do things to him; i'd take it as satire if they didn't geniunely tell me they were dead serious. it was really upsetting to read all those messages, but, my fault for being on the internet in the first place i suppose.
there's probably a special place in hell for specific kind of people.
i hope there's hot cocoa there
Tags:
hello entry, i'm nate or natu. whatever you want to call me i don't mind, i take nicknames too. i've had private thoughts as my own puzzle pieces for awhile in my journals but never really had anywhere to put them.
so here i am, and because if i leave this place empty it'll eat me up inside until i finally do something.
so i'm sitting,
not really doing anything, feeling the axis of the planet turn slowly.
there's alot of things that turn; wheels, yo-yos, merry-go-rounds, the hard disk in your computer, me sometimes when i'm on one of those thrilling wheely chairs :3
either way,
i wonder if maybe existence itself spins. or perhaps, a spiral.
what if life was a kaleidospic spiral. i mean, spirals are just a 'path of a point in a plane moving around a central point while continuously receding from or approaching it'. they usually have a end, well, most spirals atleast.
so maybe thats death, the calming relaxing end of the dizzyness and circles.
the universe expands, the galaxies spin, blackholes are spirals that vaccum things into it, so i reckon maybe life is the same way.
people usually reference journeys as a line, sometimes going up and down but isn't that boring? the goal is usually to go to one point, yes, but wouldn't it be more exciting if we got to spin as if we are on one of those carnival rides that spin around with the teacups and the corny music.
what is it called again?
...
i searched it up, it's just 'tea-cup ride'
hahahaha.
thats funny. probably. maybe.
anyways
from your outer thoughts to inner soul, may you follow your spiral in life and enjoy it well.
i know i ain't.
so here i am, and because if i leave this place empty it'll eat me up inside until i finally do something.
so i'm sitting,
not really doing anything, feeling the axis of the planet turn slowly.
there's alot of things that turn; wheels, yo-yos, merry-go-rounds, the hard disk in your computer, me sometimes when i'm on one of those thrilling wheely chairs :3
either way,
i wonder if maybe existence itself spins. or perhaps, a spiral.
what if life was a kaleidospic spiral. i mean, spirals are just a 'path of a point in a plane moving around a central point while continuously receding from or approaching it'. they usually have a end, well, most spirals atleast.
so maybe thats death, the calming relaxing end of the dizzyness and circles.
the universe expands, the galaxies spin, blackholes are spirals that vaccum things into it, so i reckon maybe life is the same way.
people usually reference journeys as a line, sometimes going up and down but isn't that boring? the goal is usually to go to one point, yes, but wouldn't it be more exciting if we got to spin as if we are on one of those carnival rides that spin around with the teacups and the corny music.
what is it called again?
...
i searched it up, it's just 'tea-cup ride'
hahahaha.
thats funny. probably. maybe.
anyways
from your outer thoughts to inner soul, may you follow your spiral in life and enjoy it well.
i know i ain't.
.
