it should come soon (i say for the hundredth time so like who actually cares). this is a new low. i’ve never felt so scared and panicked. i type and delete lots of sentences because i realise everything i say makes no sense. there are probably spelling mistakes.
was very excited to see there was a poetry and art category, i click and see lots of poems i don’t understand from people hurting deeply. they are years old. it is extremely rare for me to like poems for some reason, i really want to. at first i felt very sad to see not a lot of illustrations on here, but i realise that this isn’t a very active place and it’s natural to stay on topic. maybe i’m not searching very well. i am very glad i accidentally stumbled on this website in a deep dive. i was expecting some disturbing stuff but i’m happy to see there’s kind people here who keep it calm. i hesitate to contribute because i don’t feel human enough, it’s like parts of me went missing when i was developing in the womb. i’m too honest when i’m too stupid to show kindness, and attempts at compassion backfire.
this is literally the only thing i can say i’m good at sometimes, of course i have the urge to share regardless of quality and worth. it’s always so embarrassing though, but i have to because what other substance do i have? the only thing holding my ego together. i can attribute a small part of my mental and social decline to the fact that i’ve basically dropped this hobby years ago, for reasons that don’t matter. i’m not sure why i started in the first place, i can’t remember anyone in my life helping me discover this skill. my parents are completely disinterested in pretty pictures, i wish my memory was better so i could remember the important things. my life has been a pretty dull one so i’m not sure why i can’t remember people from my past. deep down i probably don’t care for their function, like with most things.
noo the quality is bad 🙁 i was painting the bottom of what i think is called a turkish hazelnut(?) for college. it looked quite alien, if you look around enough you might realise that lots of nature looks too weird to be real, also that whatever you’re looking at might’ve come from overseas. this hazelnut is not native to the UK
it hurts that i can’t help but to be stubborn and clueless to what other people are trying to communicate. i’ve accidentally drove people mad in conversation, sometimes my mum will scream “stop”, startling me, and i must retreat my personality. and for other people i can see their eyes are screaming, that’s when i know to stop. and i genuinely never see it coming. nothing. the amount of discomfort i bring to people must be unbearable and even disgusting for them, i don’t know people tip-toe around me until some time later. i’m quite slow like that. what kind of person can be this stupid. incapable of learning, this type of person must be unkind and self-centred. i’m like radioactive waste slowly killing people’s happiness with my miserable attitude and face.
like everything, this is quite old. i haven’t created in years. i was quite patient with this.
i think hard and as deeply as i can, not once did someone genuinely enjoy my company 1 to 1, i am generally difficult to deal with alone due to my nihilistic and empty personality. which means i can’t be loved. and what’s the point if there isn’t even a little romantic love in your life. i am not mad at the people who drifted away. and i’m not mad for failing to connect even online. none of this feels real. i can’t be mad at my species for i was born hopelessly flawed. how can i have the audacity to complain about my suicidality when i don’t have the drive to make progress in my life? it is as hopeless as praying to a god and expecting them to talk back. sometimes i don’t want to treat this space like a confessional booth because i don’t want more people to think i’m a loser. i don’t know why i do it anyway, attention? yeah i guess. i can be seen without being seen, show certain parts. if i showed the whole picture it would be pretty sad.
i made this when i was very low and frustrated. i liked using cheap metallic paint. i used my fingers to blend the skin. i was trying to show bloody and beautiful melancholia.
it always goes back to love and beauty doesn’t it? very primitive. when a person cannot chase these things then what is there to do? what should i do? creating and painting kept me tied to this but it doesn’t beat the real thing, at times this nearly got me connected to people but i stumbled. i wish i was real. keeping my head down is the best thing i can do, my unsettling wide eyes make things miserable. a therapist told me that it’s ok to be an introvert and that i can work around it. another lie, no one can do that!!! i thought i fell in love once, but actually i was delighted to find out someone caring and good loved me. i thought i was worthless and he lessened that pain for a bit. it’s been about 8 years since we spoke but i still think about him every day, i think he’s doing well now and has probably forgotten about me, i was only words on a screen to him after all. this was the closest i got to love, it could’ve gotten further if my insecurities didn’t get in the way. they always manage to disrupt the flow. will i ever feel pure euphoria? i miss him, i might send a last message but it won’t be sad, it’ll just be a hello hru.
i never drew an expression until this, i prefer a calm face reassuring face.
i was looking to see if i took pictures of old art i did. i saw old photos of me as a kid. i never once smiled with my teeth because they were a jumbled mess (actually very gross) and even after braces they are still not quite right. i googled what is a smile and apparently you’re meant to enjoy it, that seems like a lie. i’m tired of peering through the window, only viewing people from the outside, never understanding the intimate social language people develop with each other. i am stuck in my head, only i can break out. no amount of therapy or support can help with that. it’s always been up to me (this shouldn’t be spun as an opportunity) and even thinking about that is crushing. every day i see by observing others why i don’t fit in and probably shouldn’t, i hate this environment i see, i need things to be simple. hate is all i feel these days and no one should be around that.
lily, i don’t like them. they smell gross.
a constant issue i’ve had was the ability to express myself. i know i could work on my mumbling (although my face is hopeless) but i don’t because i hate changing myself for others. i hate appealing to others, but this is part of the human experience isn’t it? you need to change to fit into your groups, i don’t know why i don’t feel wired to do that. was i really that sensitive to past rejections? did hitting my head on the walls years ago really break me? we’ll never know. if there was one wish i’d want the universe to fulfil, it would be to look at myself objectively and move forwards. do anything but stand still.
i don’t want to think about my (potential) funeral/service. i’ve never been to one because i don’t have contact with family and friends, in general i’m lucky not to be exposed to it very much. i didn’t even go to my grandfather’s funeral which was this year, i wouldn’t know what to do especially because i’ve forgotten my first language. you’re meant to remember their life right? and talk about the good bits. i think mine will be cold and empty. i think my mum will wail because little people will come, or strangers. hell i don’t think my grandparents, godmother, brothers, old friends will come. they’re the closest to me but i’ve only spoken to family when i was very young. very very very sad. you cannot sympathise with someone you don’t even know or care for. so i have to wonder if this will even happen. i guess i’ll be quietly burned to ashes, and spread somewhere because there’s no room in the house for me. i will just be gone. that actually sounds nice.
it’s all over, how does a person even turn around to face their destruction, how do you even have the guts. i can’t type long before my fingers start to feel heavy, every bit of me has given up. i’ve started crying again. i can’t wait around to become even more pathetic than i am. it was such a useless fight. i’ve missed lots of opportunities to go. why do i look like a person when i’m not i have a couple spots in mind now, i need to take a look around first. i desperately wish someone could hold my hand. looking for a partner would be silly and stupid, i’ll just end up getting myself hurt. but god do i need it, just someone to hold my hand one last time and walk me through it. someone that won’t try to argue or stop me. i need to lessen my terror. it will be ok, everything that’s meant to happen will happen. i want the earth to envelop me in all its glory.
she was not loving, caring, funny. she kept to herself and averted her eyes.