This Feeling
I know this feeling.
I want to capture it.
In art.
In writing,
in paint,
in fabric,
in thread,
in ink.
I get to be here,
now,
twenty-six,
single,
pansexual,
in my pyjamas,
cozy slippers,
in the car at night,
with the middle light on.
“From Persephone” by Kiki Rockwell playing on my phone,
smutty book laying on my tote bag in the passenger seat,
a cold, almost empty coffee in a blue and white striped mug,
empty can of monster in the cup holder.
Half a joint,
and a rollie,
a disposable cup acting as an ashtray in my lap,
notebook supported by it,
and the steering wheel.
The kitchen and hall lights are on,
faint lights from the neighbours,
inky black silhouettes of trees,
on an indigo-grey sky,
misty clouds and scattered stars.
It is all,
beautiful.
It’s mundanity,
and it’s inconsequence,
make it even more so.
I get to be here.
I get to experience this moment.
It took so much to get here.
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so ok yeah fine i watched gravity falls again and read the book of bill
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i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.
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ai generated images make me increasingly sad and tired the more i see them in more and more casual contexts. i dont know how to explain, but it just fills the world with a bunch of nothing. no matter how visually stunning the pictures might be, there's nothing behind it for me. no dedication, no emotions, no feelings, no hard work or creativity, nothing i can truly think about, admire or enjoy. i dont think thats how art is supposed to be
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