#but I don't have anywhere else to vent about this

[dem0batz]

I can't tell if books are getting worse or if I've just grown too picky. I've always been an avid reader but I've been so disappointed with books over the last year.

[britneyshakespeare]

what is incredibly annoying about the internet is that someone's argumentative-toned political vent post can circulate to a few hundred or thousand people and be generally agreed with by people seeing their broader point, and then be screenshotted and circulated again by ppl who mostly also saw it the first time around, but it's vituperatively disagreed with while picking apart the original post's wording to imply that the original poster meant something particularly stupid or wrong when what is being attacked is not the actual point.

[bonbonbunnyships]

Starting to get the feeling seasonal depression is setting in for me. Been feeling down the last few days, some of that is because I still feel guilt over leaving one of my close friends. Even if it was because I felt too stressed and like I couldn't help her anymore, I still doubt if I did the right thing or not, and I keep thinking about her nearly every day. That's a whole things on its own granted, but I'm sure the seasonal changes don't help. I want to try and write again or make headway on trying to look for work possibly. It just feels difficult when I constantly have these thoughts weighing me down. I wanted to try and find new friends, but that's been hard too... It's hard to find people I vibe with and with discord servers I always get too scared to talk right away because of previous bullying. I don't know what the best way to go about it is, and the friends I do still have aren't always available which is understandable. It just makes the feeling of loneliness more present.

[musical-chick-13]

.

[somelazyassartist]

I've been feeling really isolated as an artist here on Tumblr, especially lately. It wasn't so bad when I could go out and get social interaction in the real world, but now that I'm housebound by my disabilities it's become so much more obvious to me how little interaction I get these days. And I don't just mean, like, note counts. While it's very nice to get a few reblogs which spreads my art around to more people (which could theoretically help with some of my issues but isn't the source of them) the numbers themselves aren't REALLY what's bothering me. I used to feel like I was part of a community here. I used to make art, and people would comment on it, and I'd draw more art responding to their comments, and onward. I made some very good friends in the past because I drew something for their fic and they responded, or vice versa where someone would write or draw something in response to what I made. Didn't have to be more art or writing, just making simple easy comments and going back and forth, asking and answering questions. And even when people didn't talk to me about things, they still shared them, and showed my work to other people, which made me feel like I was good enough to be worth sharing. It's like if 4 years ago I started learning to bake cakes for a party, and while they were kinda messy looking people would still take a piece and I got to know that even if they didn't directly tell me they liked it, it was good enough that people did like it and wanted more- and some people would tell me directly, which felt wonderful! And now 4 years later I've started making fancier and more elaborate cakes with my new skills, even if it's still not bakery-worthy, and I'm proud of the progress I've made. But now when I bring the cake to the party, the whole time everyone avoids it, and I know it's not out of malice or dislike of my work but it still sucks to get to the end of the party and see that only one or two bites were taken out of the whole cake you were so proud of and excited to share with everybody. Sure, maybe a lot of my interaction used to come strictly from the fact I made primarily fandom art, and had much less focus on my own original work, so I just joined a preexisting community. But even with that it hasn't been the same nowadays. Even most fandoms I post for now barely feel like I'm joining a community and more like I'm just adding another piece into an algorithm, and forcing myself to make fandom artwork just trying to get a bit more outreach and communication when I would rather be putting my limited energy into making original things I really want to make so much more is just exhausting, and frustrating, and is so easy to burn me out of art completely. I don't want to have to force myself to make art I don't care about just to try to feel like I'm a person and an artist here and not a content machine to be looked at once and moved on from.

I don't know. I've had more motivation and love for artwork than ever before lately. I've started animating again after a 4 year hiatus, because I found my love for working in the genre again with the help of my friends making a wonderful story and very kindly including me alongside them, and encouraging me to do more original work based on it. I can't remember the last time I had fun with digital art, but I do again. It's been more fun these last few months than it ever has been in my life.

But it's hard to have the most love and excitement for your work than you ever had before, and realize you're one of the only few people* here out in the whole of the internet that actually cares about it.

[milfronin]

.

[tera-starstorm]

[jianqzai]

Okay, make your bets. How long until I cave in and start horny posting here

[irritablepoe]

one thing about me is that i'll freeze to death when angry. like i'm shaking and not from anger, it's just that i get so cold

[dingusships]

bigass vent over general life things

things in general are really not great i don't really have any optimism for the future or making a life for myself. like i don't really have any drive or ambition to look forward or work towards anything good/meaningful because as time goes on there are going to be really bad life events that i just don't think i can keep facing anymore. and theyre going to be worse. i'm just dragging along life solely on the basis that i was plopped here to just Exist and that's my task at hand that i'm reluctantly upholding. just exist until it's over

[universalcarnival]

man i have no idea what to write

[chaos-in-one]

“Why are you mad that he’s getting better?”

I’m not! I’m not mad that he’s getting better, I’m so happy that he is! I was one of the first people who tried to help him realize that he’s even capable of getting better, why in the hell would something I’ve been fighting for for months be what is upsetting me?

When everything was still going downhill I fought so hard to help him. Even after the amount of pain he caused me, and caused my loved ones, I still tried my damn hardest. I believed that everyone deserves a chance to heal, a chance that he hadn’t gotten. I tried so hard to get him to understand he deserved that much, that he deserved a chance to do better, tried so hard to get him to believe that it didn’t have to be like this forever. I tried to get him to believe that even after everything he did, he was not incapable of working to be a better person, that he was not incapable of being loved or trusted. I was the one who fought for that. 

Him getting better wasn’t what hurt, it was everything else.

It was that I wasn’t worth getting better for. Because what I did didn’t change anything, he still won’t even acknowledge the effort I made, he still treats it like it was all fake. It wasn’t until someone else tried to help him that he got better. And that hurts. It hurts to know that I wasn’t worth the effort.

It’s that I didn’t get to move on, too. He’s getting to move on, he gets to be better and have a better life now. I don’t. I’m still stuck hurting. I always thought that once he got better, everything would fall into place. Life would get better for everyone. But the pain, the fear, the fighting, the memories, I didn’t get to move on from any of it like he did, like they did. I’m stuck with a literal living reminder of what happened, who is there to constantly remind me of everything so that I can never, ever forget. So I never let my guard down again. And I am stuck not knowing how long I have to live like that, how long it will take for that part of my brain to realize it’s not helping, that it’s hurting me. And how much longer after that before it cares enough to change, too. And even after that, how much longer it will take for me to feel safe again, to heal.

It’s that I get to see him get all the support I practically begged and prayed for for months. When something goes wrong, when a fight breaks out, someone steps in to help him. Someone stops the situation for him. Someone is there to comfort him when he’s upset, when he’s hurting. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he has that! I’m glad he gets that support! But that doesn’t make it hurt less that I never got that, during everything. When he started things before, I had to try to talk out the situation. I had to try to figure out exactly what to do to stop as much damage as possible. I had to stand up for myself almost every single fucking time. And when it hurt, when I sat there and I cried, when I panicked, I had to deal with it alone. Not only that, but I had to fucking hide it. Or I got told to suck it up, or that I had nothing to be upset about and that I wasn’t even really hurt. Or worse, if I hit my breaking point, I got encouraged to fucking go dormant. I was treated like my emotions were enough of a burden that it would be better if I didn’t exist than for anyone but me to have to deal with them in the slightest.

It’s that I have to act like nothing ever happened. I can’t act scared around him, I can’t be anything but nice, I can’t be angry or upset at everything he did. If I do I’m treated like it makes me a terrible person. I’m being an asshole to him without reason, I’m in the wrong, I’m the reason he’s struggling to get better, I’m the one who needs to be stopped and shut up. I can’t even begin to describe how much it fucking hurts to be told “I’m trying to get better but you’re making it hard for me”. And not just once either. I lost count of how many times I’ve been told that.

And the thing is, I can’t even say how much it hurts. If I do, I'm playing the victim, I’m making thing harder on purpose, I’m being manipulative again. I can’t say a fucking word about any of it because it's better to say nothing than to risk being a bad person again, risking hurting them again, risking more of them hating me.

And yet when the roles are reversed, when one of them, when he, specifically, talks about something I did wrong, I have to take it. I’m not allowed to be upset when it's being brought up, I’m not allowed to try to get anyone to stop talking about it. I get to have it rubbed in my face what I did, used against me in every single fucking argument, and I have to take it. Because what I did was wrong, I would be a bad person for doing anything else when it’s brought up. But the same isn’t true for his past actions. I’m the only one who gets to have it rubbed in my face that I fucked up, that I did something wrong, that I did something that got someone hurt

Over

And over

And over again

Until it feels to me like the weight of my own actions are suffocating me.

It doesn’t matter that I apologized over and over again for every single thing I could think of that I ever did wrong. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to be better than I was before. My actions are going to weigh on me, possibly forever, by the hands of everyone who knows of them.

And at the same time, I’m not sure I’ll ever really get an apology from him, or from any of them. There’s only two I can remember who hurt me out of all of them that apologized, and they’re both gone. They left, and they might never be coming back. And they are two of the ones who hurt me the least, and two of the ones where it was most a mutual problem, where neither was really free of fault. But the rest, especially him, I can’t remember ever getting even that from. Nor can I ever feel safe to ask for it.

It’s all expected to simply be left to scatter into the winds, like the fallout of a blast. All that’s left is to pick up the pieces of what’s left behind.

And I’ve tried, so hard. But it feels like all my pieces, all of what I have left, are drifting away. What I thought I could count on to have once it was all over, I can see myself losing. My loved ones, my ability to tell what’s right from wrong (although bits of that were lost in the blast already), my sense of self, my ability to feel like I’m even a decent person. It feels like I’m slowly getting stripped down until there’s nothing left.

And the worse part is that I can’t bring myself to believe it’s anything but self inflicted. No matter how much it hurts, or how unfair it feels, I can’t really believe any of this is any fault but my own. I can’t help but question, every day, if they aren’t right. If he really didn’t hurt me, if I really am a bad person, if I really am the problem. I’m starting to think I am. It’s hard to believe it could really be anyone but me that’s the problem. It’s left me wondering time and time again

What if he was right, and it really would be better if I just stopped existing?

But I can’t tell them any of this, can’t tell him any of this. I can’t risk it being a guilt trip again, I can’t run the risk that I’d be being manipulative again just by telling them even a small bit of this.

I’ve feared for my entire existence here, that I would end up an abuser without even realizing I have. I’m terrified of becoming like that, but every day it feels more and more like nothing I do is ever going to be good enough to make me a good enough person to not be that. Hell, every day I feel less and less like I’m a person at all. I feel like I’m a monster.

But what am I, really?

And more importantly

Do I even have any right to feel this way? To think any of this?

Or is it going to ruin everything all over again?

[autumnoakes]

been having dysphoria over my facial hair then looked in the mirror and went 'i would make a really hot guy i think'

[thewhumpingbunny]

VENT WRITING.

GOVL chapter 7 alternate scene

As the Emperor writhed on the ground, unable to keep himself from screaming at his overwhelming loss at the hands of the princess he so coveted, Lucia lost her footing entirely. She was immediately caught by that of her beloved husband Elvis, as he knew that she would be dizzy after having used every bit of her energy. He noticed her eyes were having the hardest time focusing, and figured that most likely she would pass out in his arms as he made his way back to Dissidia’s warpzone. 

“Without my power,” Mateus roared, pushing himself upon his palms. “I am nothing! End me!!” He gasped, taking a moment to look at the couple who only gazed upon him with pity. “I- I cannot live like this!”

“What a plonker ye are,” Elvis grunted as his eyes narrowed. The pity had vanished from him, hearing that. “Ye’re too good for mercy, are ye?” He shook his head as he turned attention back to his wife. “No. Ye heard the royal decree. Ye have a job to do, now get back t’ it.” While he would have no issue with ending Mateus’ miserable life for all he’d done in just the last two days alone, he withheld his rage at her order. 

Lucia did her best to force herself to a stand, though it was more than apparent she wouldn’t make it more than a few steps in her current condition. “Mateus, please. Go home.” She spoke weakly, but earnestly, hoping that the warlock would just hear her out. “I will not! I will remain here and find a way to break your curse before I rain hell upon the Palace of Power itself!” He barked at her, as he rose himself to a stand. “Mark my vow. I will not allow this to stand, princess! If you do not belong to me, I will… end all you care for. Your forsaken love will doom not just you and your children, but every citizen of Video Land!”

“Y-you don’t understand,” Lucia said, attempting to step closer to him, but she lost her footing again. Elvis helped her keep her balance this time, instead of simply carrying her weight on him. “This land cannot remain in such a state if Gamers are to have access to any Dissidia game, past, present, or future. It will be reset by the… Deity of Destruction. If… if you meet with him, you will be reset entirely, same as this world.”

“Bah, some deity will not be the end of me.”

“I didn’t say you were going to die…” she clarified calmly. “...I said you will be reset.”

“Ach, lass, we need to get ye back home. Ye still haven’t recovered from yer last, and here ye are, trying to work things out with this lout? Come now, wee bunny. If he won’t listen to ye, he’ll just have to suffer the consequences,” Elvis said gently. “Ye cannae save ‘em all.”

“But-” “All the shit he’s done to ye?! The fact that he’s even seen that there is a whole expanse beyond his Game World has driven the bastard mad. It may be better for the whole of Video Land if he is consumed by yer… deity.”

“It hurts to see him go, despite everything. But, I guess, if that’s his choice…” She looked into those purple eyes once again and smiled. “You did say you would rather die than accept my mercy. If that is your will, I can’t stop you. Mateus, I’m sorry that I… that we…” she took a deep breath and sighed. “Goodbye, Emperor Mateus… Matty.”

Not since he was officially on her team had she called him that. His heart skipped a beat before turning away. After sealing away his magic, preventing him from gaining any more power outside of the Realms of Fantasy, how could she dare even act like she cared! It was preposterous! How dare she even pretend at such a sad smile like that? What the hell was all of this? 

“Can’t even return the favor of a goodbye? Aye, tha’s some right bullshit,” Elvis said. “We’d best be going. I don’t want you caught by the deity, wee bunny!”

“No, he can’t hurt me. He acts under my contract here in Video Land, as I was the one that summoned him in the first place. If we do meet him, you and I will be safe.” Lucia said, finally allowing Elvis to lift her up into his arms.

Mateus watched them go before snatching his golden scepter from the ground. That piece of shit, holier-than-thou prince walked away, carrying the princess the Emperor desired. Ugh. He would do all he could to undo this curse she placed on him, no matter how long it took. No sort of silence would be put on the greatest ruler in all creation! He could at least manifest his six golden wings. As he was ready to take off, he heard the quiet tip-tap-tip-tap of old-fashioned leather shoes against the floor behind him. “Well, I had no idea I would have the opportunity to consume an angel today. How fortuitous!” The voice seemed to have some sort of odd interference, crackling as if being played through a machine at a distance. 

Mateus turned to look behind him, to find a tall, almost impossibly thin being standing there. He carried something of a staff of his own, though it had a strange adornment. Instead of a jewel or fixture to enhance magical power, it was some sort of device he had never seen before. His whole ensemble was blood red, from his bushy hair, classy striped suit, all the way down to the shoes he heard before.

“Are you the so-called Deity of Destruction?”

The lanky red being laughed, showing his sharp yellow teeth. “Is that how the princess described me?! Oh, the flattery! Isn’t she just darling! Allow me to introduce myself! Salutations, I am Alastor. It is a pleasure to meet you, quite a pleasure!” The interference around his voice kept going with every word he spoke. Mateus had never encountered anything like this before, either. What was this so-called deity? “Now. I’m quite the fan of your performance, Your Majesty.” “...excuse me? What do you mean?”

“Why, I’ve been tuned into everything you’ve done! Anyone that causes my bunny this much pain is someone I must follow,” Alastor continued, his smile growing that much wider. The ears atop his head twitched a few times before horns began to sprout from his bushy red hair. “I’m thrilled she has given us the opportunity to cross paths, finally.” They grew outward, expanding far wider than his shoulders, extending with multiple branches as his eyes turned into blazing yellow dials. His limbs elongated, further than any human could survive, but as he transformed, his smile grew just as twisted.

When Mateus flapped his wings to get himself into the air, Alastor snatched him right out of the air with one of his claws. No matter how many times he tried to cast any of his magic, it would fade before it could manifest. He struggled to break free, but this demonic monstrosity had him bound tightly between fingers even longer than he was. Tentacles came from Alastor’s back, wreaking havoc on all of the land around them, and the grip only tightened.

“You- there is no way you could come of her power!” Mateus shouted. “She is filled with Light, and her magic manifests itself in music!”

“Hmmmm,” Alastor mused, continuing to crash about to destroy the Game World of Dissidia like a kaiju. “Not that it matters anymore, does it? She warned you, and you did not heed her.” “If you are not going to kill me, then-” The radio demon gripped the emperor so tightly that he could not even carry the air in his lungs well enough to speak. He stopped his rampage enough to use another claw to rip Mateus’ wings off his body only to toss them in his mouth to eat them. Then, he broke every one of his limbs - both arms and legs - one by one. Alastor slammed the defeated husk upon the ground, face first, with every bit of his strength. Mateus knew this Game World was crumbling around them, and that if he did not die by this demon’s rampage, he would be caught in the negative space. That must have been what Lucia meant when she told him he would be reset entirely.

“I have no desire to kill you, you miserable shit. All you have caused my dearest bunny to suffer shall be paid back to you, one thousand fold!”

Mateus did not know this level of pain before in his life, and without a physical way to escape it, he had no choice but to let it claim him. Darkness beyond anything he himself could manipulate surged through his every nerve, charging through him as if he was naught but a conductor of the worst magical energy. He spat up everything in his body from blood to whole ass organs, but somehow, despite staring at his own lungs and stomach, somehow he was not dead. He could not fathom any of what he was seeing. This couldn’t be happening! This- this was- it was a nightmare he needed to wake from!

“You do not know the HELL you have inflicted upon her. I will be glad to demonstrate for you.”

Words escaped him. His lungs have collapsed. He could not breathe. He could not move. The blood surging through his eyes made it impossible for him to see. All he knew in that moment was pain. And despite his being unable to function, he could still hear his own voice screaming in terror. No matter how hard he tried to force himself to wake, he could not. 

“How long has she had to endure you?” Alastor asked, waving his hand to bring forth even more darkness upon Mateus’ body. “Thousands of years in the negative space is naught but a fraction of a second outside, Matty...”

[busket]

I notice sometimes in queer and feminist spaces the idea of "this group is generally given more leniency and privileges in wider society; it's okay for us to be critical or even a little nasty to them because anywhere else they'd be praised". and that's understandable, i think. when you have real issues with men and how men act, it's ok to express that and to mock mens behavior. cis men who are generally praised and celebrated in society should be able to take some mean jokes or criticisms and accept they're not always going to be lauded.

but since queer and feminist spaces are generally more accepting of trans people and the wider society is not, this is also projected on to trans men. "trans men are men" was an affirming statement to our validity, but that was interpreted as "since trans men are men, and men are celebrated by society, I get to be a little nasty to them because the rest of society worships men. they can take it."

but the rest of society doesn't have that same level of trans acceptance. they don't see trans men as men, they see trans men as mentally ill, broken, mutilated women. so it's absolutely aggravating when we turn to queer and feminist spaces for solidarity, we face the same reactive nastiness cis men get and are told "come on, trans men are men. you are celebrated in society. you can take it." and when we look at the rest of society there's no celebration. there's only more nastiness and cruelty. so how can we "take it" when we have no community that accepts us and treats us without mockery? we don't have the shelter of acceptance that cis men have in the status quo, and sometimes we can't find a small umbrella of acceptance in queer communities either.

to be honest, I think a lot of people view trans men as a safe punching bag to vent their frustrations with men. you can mistreat a trans man and he's probably not going to fight you back since he's already so beat down. you can feel like you put a man in his place, you can feel like you're resisting the patriarchy. but all you did was act cruel to a marginalized person. and you know if you treated a cis man like that you might be putting yourself in danger, cos he might not take it lying down and he might not care as much about your wellbeing!

trans men are men, but trans men are not cis men. cis men are lauded and celebrated in society as long as they conform to the gender roles that were placed on them at birth. and this privilege is extremely conditional and not equally spread between men of different sexualities, races, ethnicities, ability, age, etc; trans men and intersex men are thrown to the side completely. I understand needing to vent about men. trans men do it too. but a persistent attitude of resentment and cruelty towards all men, including trans men, is not activism. all you do is push marginalized men out of the only communities they belong

[no-one-hears-me]

the past is gone