#like why tf do all these narcissists think its so important that everyone knows they think superm is a flop

[mildcicada]

In the past when my art was even a few weeks-months old I used to no longer identify with that art/liked what it looked like/was a completely different person about that art. But like now, all my art is so me like all the time and I can look at stuff I made months-years ago and be like yeah That's Me. Like even if I was a different me back then I still adore all of it. I don't mean this in a narcissistic way or anything but I love all the art I make/have made and think its all genuinely so good. Even when there are obvious technical flaws I can see in past art like ?? ITS STILL AMAZING. I think everyone should be like this about their art wdym you think your old art is bad? I can view my soul in it. This change may be due to the fact that I draw less often compared to when I was younger and drew like every day, or may be due to the fact that I haven't changed "fandoms" in a while, or maybe its due to the fact that now that I am older as an individual my personality, interests, etc. are more established ??? IDK but even when I was a different me and in a different era I can emphathize with my old art just as much/honestly appreciate it way more than I did back then. Like i don't know how to put it into words for why this is the case but its all SO GOOD. Like it's actually amazing, even if I don't agree with the way I portrayed or designed a character or something or whatever. The technical aspects of how bad the anatomy or poses or whatever tf are the least of my worries as well tbh, they don't affect how I view the drawings at all anymore. Like all the stuff I made and the stuff I continue to make is all ...SOOO GOOD. Like I look at anything I have made in the past, or now, and I'm so genuinely happy with it regardless of result now. My thoughts back then about my favorite characters etc. and stuff were all so amazing I'm amazing. Even the smallest objectively most terrible sketches I have made are all so good. I can feel the energy flowing between me and it. The emotions between past and present me. I feel that the increased confidence and happiness in other aspects of my life especially in regards to how I view myself/appreciate myself and allow myself to actually exist in the world and do whatever tf I want are the likely cause of this feeling and appreciation for my art. The rest of my life before this was likely just a result of a lack of self-love and having an overall self-deprecating attitude. But it feels like its such the norm to not ever be happy with your work or to talk about it in anything other than a humble at best to self-hating at worst way. Or maybe this is just my POV from the artist circles I view. But like you can be completely fulfilled and overjoyed and happy with your current work and still "improve" in technical ways (This is the least important aspect of art though imo) etc. like appreciation and happiness =/= stagnation and arrogance. WHATEVAR.

[baekwin]

sometimes i check twt to see if its rly that bad over there and that im not just being dramatic about refusing to ever go

.......and somehow its always even worse than i remembered skdjfhksd

[theyearofrisinglight]

So as I have referenced on two other posts on here, I have been reading the works of Gabriel García Márquez this month to commemorate his 6th death anniversary but I'm v obsessed with The Witcher, too, so I couldn't stop seeing some parallels with some Witcher characters and Gabo's characters and the most glaring one is Dandelion *snort* For real, as I was reading Chronicle of a Death Foretold I couldn't stop thinking that what happened to Santiago Nasar would've end up being Jask's destiny had Geralt not been his babysitter. Jask would've definitely been m worded by the brothers of some peasant girl he had "deflowered", the same way the Vicario twins did Santiago Nasar, except Dandelion would have actually deserved it. (Santiago is iffy but he, too, was a sexual harasser soooo)

But the real point of this post is to say that yeah, Dandelion lives in my head rent free but it's all the show stans damn fault. They have created this alter ego that's somehow worse than the real Dandelion lmao Honestly, sometimes I feel like being in one of those creepy abusive boyfriend movies where the guy makes his girlfriend's life a living hell in private but in public everyone sees A Saint™ who can do no wrong and THEY'RE the victims of this cruel, cruel world and its people, and the girl and maybe a few other people know who he really is but the vocal others drown them out. It's so maddening! Like I said before on here, Dandelion is a character who has no growth, no journey, he ends up practically the same way he began. And you know what that's ok. Not every character has to have some deep character journey, it's not necessary. And you can stan such character of course, but to say HE IS A MAIN CHARACTER?!?! LMAOooo waht?? No.

Not to mention, I really do think that the show not fully showing how horrible of a man Dandelion can be was a A Mistake, but it's not too late to add that shit in s2. It is a fact he gets poor peasant girls pregnant and has to run tf away from towns with the tail between his legs bc their brothers want to make him marry them or murder him or both. It's a fact he's a womanizer who doesn't respect anyone's relationship status. It's a fact he's a narcissist. And immature. And reckless. And selfish. And has delusions of grandeur. And depending on how you interpret the text above, miGHT even be a sexual abuser of a disabled girl(!!!) (And I do think it was Dandelion bc knowing how Mr. Sapko writes, he wouldn't have emphasized she was grinning if it had been anyone else but Dandelion, this shit is for the giggles apparently.) So I have my reasons not to like the guy, but wait there's more.

So you see, this is the “A Little Sacrifice” short story, following this passage, a dude offers Dandelion a gig to play at his daughter's betrothal but he gets offended when the guy tells him there'll be another bard so he'll have to share the stage. He's ready to tell the guy to fuck off but Geralt literally has to beg and coax him to accept the gig and to be a little humble bc they are starving and his last job went unpaid and thanks to the shit he caused with the Rangers they are broke asf.

Which brings me to this Thing I thought about the other day and that it doesn't get out of my head. It's a hot ass take, and I don't expect to be right, but bear with me. So y'all know how Dandelion is a rich dude with castles to his name and shit but is going incognito with a fake bard name bc he's hiding from Anarietta's duke husband who's sentenced him to death for fxcking his wife, right? And that's why he meets Geralt and not only does he see profit from going around from town to town with A Witcher, but none other than the White Wolf himself, the Butcher of Blaviken. So he chooses him as his personal bodyguard and Geralt, after years on the Path being all alone and hated by the very people who require his work to free them of “pests”, forms a sort of opportunistic friendship with him, too. He becomes the funny weird sexist bard's protector in exchange of the bard's company, as annoying as it turns out to be. And even as Geralt treats Dandelion with real contempt sometimes (but Dandelion responds with the same measure), he knows he won't leave bc he can't survive without him. So that makes Geralt a bit of an asshole, right? 

Wrong. You see, Geralt doesn't know who Dandelion really is until The Tower of Swallows and he's shocked! to learn this man is rich asf!! Which going back to this whole money thing, Geralt supported Dandelion for YEARS out of his own pocket, shared his food and lodging with him, and Dandelion never once made an effort to contact his treasurers or whatever when things were tight to get some cash and help out his friend. I know, he was supposed to be on the down low but there are ways idk!! And from this dynamic, it seems that it's always Geralt who pays for the food and lodging and other important stuff with HIS coins, bc if Dandelion earns some from his singing he always spends it in brothels, gambling, and buying shit for his personal appearance. Dandelion, was literally a leech living off Geralt 😭

Tl;Dr in other fucking words, y'alls uwu unproblematic soft baby Jask is a selfish, sexist, deadbeat dad, hot mess of a man and a horrible friend nine times out of ten. Also he's NOT a main fucking character gtfo

[ihatemyartsomuch]

16th February 2020

3:43am

I don’t know why, but I feel so alone.

I think it’s stemming from the fact that I know that moms days are numbered. Then everything changes - I’m literally gonna be alone. Orphaned. Truly & absolutely alone.

I can’t shake this anxious episode. I haven’t been able to the whole day. I know I’m a fucking mess - & I hate that I have to constantly hide it because I’m supposedly effecting everybody & the entire mood & situation through it’s existence & it’s expression. This war that I’ve waged against myself. My internal struggles. My oppression.

Nobody understands. How could they even understand? I’m failing to do so myself.

Behind all the fake smiles & laughter hides a scared little boy, searching for guidance & direction. Searching for something. Something of actual purpose. That’s all I’ve been yearning for.. I don’t think I understand what that is, & how it feels to be accepted & supported fully.. what it feels like to be genuinely mentored & cared for. Spilling from the void that dad left behind. A vacancy I’ve looked to fill countless times. & failed.

My whole life I’ve struggled with my identity. My beliefs. My personal growth. My place in this world, with who I think I am in conjunction with who I project & are actually destined to be - the balance between these conflicting forces. Loving & accepting myself for its entirety.

I can’t.

I become version after version of myself.

Each with their own set of faults & insecurities.

All of them forged from pain & suffering.

All of them spawned through self-hatred.

I damage myself constantly. Avoiding what I deeply know I need to feel because I’m afraid of confronting the reality of my fears. The reality of my future. The life that I’ve created - a terrible coping mechanism. A fucking crutch intended to hurt me as I try to walk.

A series of painful distractions.

Projections & reflections.

I’m so ashamed of myself. Sometimes I just wanna hide. Run as far away as I can - I don’t understand why people constantly feel the need to keep me around. I have nothing to offer, yet they all expect this specific energy & character & effort from me. The detached, surfaced presence of my being - a facade I can only maintain for so long..

“Why’re you so sad?”

“What’s wrong?”

I’ve never really been able to answer that. There are so many elements & circumstances in my life that are forcing me to feel this way. & it’s so strenuous. I’m genuinely struggling to keep afloat right now. Gasping for moments of clarity & peace. A sea of my of my own creation, designed solely for my self destruction.

I’ve never really been afraid to drown.

I’ve never really been afraid to die.

Cape Town.

Mom.

Girlfriend.

Future.

These decisions shouldn’t be this hard, yet I’ve been struggling to realise what it is that I truly need to do. I’m turning 23 & I still feel like a lost child with no hope of finding my direction - I’ve never really been able to secure something inside of myself that’s genuinely meaningful. I lack will & desire. Devoid of want & need.

Numb.

They repeatedly tell you that you’re gonna be acting selfishly if you kill yourself - think about how it’s gonna affect everyone around you. Think about how they would feel?

You have so much to live for.

- A series of automated responses generated from our brain for the average suicide case.

We’re designed to conveniently care - then automatically resume with our self-consumed life experiences after that period of relevance is slightly out of focus. People don’t actually care. & we’re all well aware of this - it’s the human condition. A behavioural trait more than an active decision. Out of sight, out of mind.

& the true nature of this world has me contemplating whether I should succumb to these meaningless pressures that have been passively handed down to me because of who I am. This fucking casted shadow that I’ve been existing in since I was born. Expectations that I have to meet for the sake of my family & the legacy my surname holds. I have big shoes to fill. & even bigger steps to take.

They call my dad a legend. An icon. A role model. A mentor. A professor. A soul that will sorely be missed by countless people. A hero.

, but he died slaving away for the idea of a chance of a better life for us - & I don’t blame him. He loved us. He tried to do what he thought was best for us as a family.

I can’t even remember his voice. Anything he’s ever said to me. Why tf can’t I remember? I don’t understand this mental block - & it has me thinking if I’m going to grow this disconnected to the idea & memories of my mom too. Blank spaces in my memory to replace the trauma’s emotional attachment & accessibility. Slowly becoming more & more out of focus. Until it’s passively unnoticed.

Oblivion.

I need space. Somewhere that I can ultimately clear my head. My mind’s clouded. My judgement & vision impaired because of my frantic thoughts & dissociative behaviour. & the fact that I’ve been existing inside this state of ignorant bliss - for so long, that I actually believed I could do this forever - has ultimately left me conflicted & confused. I’ve stagnated.

Time hasn’t been on my side - I don’t think it’s ever been. & now it’s the only thing I have left.

Why tf do I feel so angry @ myself?

Why tf have I not been able to bounce back & continue like everything’s normal.

Why tf do I feel so consumed?

- work today really sucked. I feel like they’re doing what Michelle said. Slowly fading me out. Gently pushing me to disappear. As if I don’t matter - as if I haven’t mattered all this time. Tangible.

I guess this is my balance. I’ve been on the other end of this spectrum for so long, it had to return to me, eventually.

Karma.

I’ve been using these girls. Unintentionally. I don’t know how to stop. The moment I feel some sort of security & comfort with one of them, it always ends up cycling through the same pattern. A predictable series of events.

They attach.

We try.

- I mimic all forms of basic human intimacy & emotion: simulated through narcissistic & sociopathic traits deep within my being. Lack of conscious control and awareness. Mindless. Empty. Meaningless.

I detach.

They hurt.

I project all of my insecure reflections so unstably, I don’t even consciously notice it anymore. Effortlessly acted upon without warning or reason - preluding detachment.

Unconsciously incompetent: blindly hurting everyone along the way to your own carefully orchestrated demise. Hurt people hurt people, right?

Maybe I’m just superficial. A narcissist. Incapable of actually being real or manifesting faucets that are. I’ve been fucking lying to myself. & everyone else. I don’t even have an outlet to express myself anymore. I’m struggling to accept this block.

Everything’s slowly being taken away from me.

& for the most part - I really deserve it.

I hate writing. I hate writing. I really hate writing. Solidifying the moment with articulative thought. Only for it to cease to have any relevance as the moments pass.

I never use to be like this.

I never use to hold such doubt & genuine loathing unto myself - I’m so insecure. & it shows.

Everyone sees.

Everyone knows - but they will never understand. & I wish they’d never understand.

We all speak out about how our situations affect us, and in your experience: you’re the centre of attention. The hero. The villain.

The victim.

Sometimes I wish I knew the answers. & the questions that I genuinely need to ask - instead of opening myself to every single person I meet only for them to exploit my weaknesses. Over & over & over again.

I still feel so young & naive.

I fucking miss my mom.

I fucking miss being able to confidently move through life. To have confidence in my thoughts. & words. & actions. & decisions.

I fucking miss being able to let go & be the rawest form of myself without feeling vulnerable & uncomfortably anxious. & how much I was able to embrace the essence of my character - someone I was so proud of & willing to be.

I fucking miss everything that I failed to appreciate in the moment - how much I’ve taken for granted. How much I didn’t know I had to lose.

I’m too weak to fix all the faults I’ve allowed myself to bare. All the silent suffering I’ve allowed myself to endure - just to blatantly lie to everyone & have them believe that I’m somewhat okay. Somewhat still there.

I’m not okay.

I’m far from okay.

I’m far from responsible.

I’m so far from being stable.

I’m so far from really being myself.

I’m so okay with ending it here.

Everybody doesn’t seem to agree.

Apparently I still have so many things to live for.. so much potential. So much promise.

I don’t feel as important as everyone makes me out to be. I’ve been existing for everybody else’s closure - for their sanity. For their own personal gain. Used. Used. Used. & I guess I’m okay with that.

Selfish.

Selfless.

I don’t know who I am anymore.