#like doc callout post as your top post instead of your art is not a good look k thx bye

[kalmiaclown]

"person is a proshipper and a groomer!!! They make art on a completely alternate adult orientated account that no kid or person with tw tags blocked would have easy access too!!!!!!"

Okay, I get it, a lot of stuff makes me feel a bit grossed out too, but if you're actively searching for an alt account that isn't even linked in their regular account just to get dirt on someone I'm gonna assume your vibes are a little rancid and I'm gonna block you. Too any followers who think actively stalking random peoples accounts and harassing them for weird things they do in WHOLLY fictional and private settings with no actual evidence of them doing things IRL is completely justified block me now. This is only a safe space for people who are uncomfortable with dark topics, not harassers.

[retrauxpunk]

let me start off by saying that i am an artist, which is a fact i must accept because the facts leave room for no other interpretation, i.e. if it were someone else doing what i do (draw/write/etc in their spare time, with a lot of passion/enthusiasm) then i would fucking call them an artist. and it would be in the minority of times when i’d bother to specify amateur. because i don’t really care when it comes to deciding on this descripter ... except in the case of myself! hurrah impostor syndrome. internalised gatekeeping? i don’t feel as though i have much impostor syndrome really, but this is definitely an exception to that. 

anyway let me start off by saying that i am an artist.

and artists are fucking stupid. why do artists romanticise dysfunction? this is a patently bad idea ... except that it produces (can produce) such a good aesthetic when explored artistically. (you know it’s true!!) like what other field goes, ‘oh this thing is performing sub-par. this is not functioning properly. this is broken. oh i know, look, isn’t it sexy??’ 

anyway this is a train wreck of a post. at least in terms of pacing. i think that above paragraph could be a stand-up bit. god remember when i did stand-up? hey, new followers, or -- wait did i even mention this? (wow i sound self-absorbed) in february 2020 i finished a six-week beginners’ stand-up comedy course which culminated in a showcase at angel comedy club where i did a three-minute set and at least ONE (1) PERSON in the audience came up to tell me they really liked my stuff! i say one person in capitals not because i’m offended, but because i am thrilled.

anyway we wrapped up that stand-up course with a great show and literally weeks later the pandemic hit and all public gatherings were shut down. i do really appreciate the irony.

(see? this is an accidentally-great example of what i was saying earlier, romanticising dysfunction!)

(this isn’t a callout btw this is a joke)

(an accurate-ish joke)

hey you know what guys? (i use guys as a gender neutral term ftr and i am averse to changing it because the way it entered my vocabulary was throuh my education at an all girls, extremely feminist (there’s literally a feminist liberation verse in our school song) high school. because any student doing a bit in the morning announcements would start with ‘hey guys’ to the point when it became a meme. so. i don’t consider guys to be exclusively masculine fuck that noise

(????)

hey you know what, comrades? my opening line was ‘hi, my name is sunny. i know what you’re thinking -- i look like the coronavirus fucked shoreditch.’

because the thing was Not Serious in most places in the world yet!! and so i referenced it with the blitheness of privilege (and the slight desperation of using anything to mine comedy becaues i was a goddamn novice) because what, what, is the point of belonging to a systemically disadvantaged demographic (in my case, my ethnicity), if i don’t use it to make the jokes that others can’t make because it’d sound too offensive coming from them?

so i came up with this line that referenced the fact that i’m a nauseatingly hipster-looking art fuck who is east asian. (don’t you love when jokes are explained to you?)

oh that was fun. i remember thinking of this and then posting a selfie on instagram asking ‘@ london peeps: do i look like a shoreditch person?’ to test whether my self-perception was aligned with that of the public, and i got a majority ‘yes’ vote (including from, bizarrely, one of my favourite comedians who followed me back and almost never interacts, which is -- i have to admit -- flattering; ugh) and then proceeded to pick out my hipsterest outfit. rolling up cardigan sleeves to show my most prominent tattoo (forearm; rabbit at a typewriter working on a novel). i remember walking up to the table at a pret where we were hanging out after our last pre-show rehearsal, seeing our teacher, and him glancing at my shoes (white doc marten boots with a big red heart on each toe) and just going, ‘cool. shoes.’ and it was the first time in a while that i’d gotten my shoes complimented (there was a dry spell of sorts, i suppose), and i was delighted. and also somewhat relieved/assuaged. (mollified? is that a word? ...mullify? ok i googled it. mollified.) because the thing is, i have not washed these bad boys in so fucking long they have become really beat-up. once fancy and delicate, now as if i wore them while riding through the countryside with my daredevil vampire biker girlfriend.

...i guess i could write that image into a story. that’d be fun. hey, did you know how fun it is to write fiction when you decide to be extremely self indulgent and make all your choices with ‘how much do i personally enjoy/like this thing’ as a top-level priority? it’s great fun.

okay man i’m getting tired of my own voice. goodnight. (it’s 11:45 gmt. ...are we gmt? i forget. anyway. 11:45 london time. whatever. ...yes i’m using 12 hour time. yes i decided to type this out to disambiguate that instead of simply the letters am.)