#omonidoodles?

[tara-l-blackmore]

THIS TOOK ME ALMOST NINE HOURS TO FUCKING MAKE. YOU BETTER APPRECIATE THIS FUCKING MASTERPIECE.

FYI: This was the line art. Yeah.

[tara-l-blackmore]

Fun fact about this picture.

I showed my Mom, and she fucking LOVED IT. She doesn't like it when I draw non-human characters, but for some reason she really loved this one.

She asked me to email it to her, so I did.

And she put it on fucking Facebook, she liked it so much!

;_____;

Abovetale, Part Twelve: The Queen Of Peace

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536164/chapters/14953159

[tara-l-blackmore]

Oh yeah

Some notes on Caught that aren't really noticeable but are noteworthy:

-Alys wears two rings: on her left middle is a spinner-ring, and on her right is a claddagh.

-Alys has a tattoo; see if you can spot it.

-Claudine is Black, and Alys is half-Korean, half-white.

-Claudine's parents are divorced, and she lived with her mother, until she was eighteen; she then moved in with her father to get to know him, as her mother kept her away from her father her whole life; she has no siblings.

-Alys lived with her mother until she became a freelance writer, and they are still close, even after she moved out; her father passed away when she was nineteen; she has an older sister who is a decade older than her, and they are not close, as her sister was close to their dad, and didn't take his death well.

-Both Alys and Claudine live in apartments, although Claudine gets financial help from her dad, who offered to help her for as long as she needed. At the time the comic starts, Claudine is still depending on him for rent, but can afford everything else fine. Alys also rents, but her job pays better, and she can do more at once to earn more money; when she was starting out, thought, her mother would often take her out for meals, or pay for prescriptions.

-Alys is bisexual, and Claudine is a lesbian; both found out early in their friendship, as they both discovered early that they were not only the token non-whites, but the token gays, and they bonded quickly over that.

-Claudine and Alys worked together for a year, until Alys quit; Alys was Claudine's supervisor, and Claudine found it easy to learn whenever Alys taught her anything.

-Yes, they both work(ed) at Tim Hortons.

That's all I can think of that isn't spoiling anything. Once the comic is done, I'll add more.

[tara-l-blackmore]

"Self", ink on paper; left: original with cropping; right: filtered with cropping.

I drew this during a time of retrospect, during a time in which my mind was just speeding over and over again, over the same crash courses, the same pains and problems, the same, the same, the same.

I am a weak person. This refers both to my mind and my body. My mind has always been week, susceptible to gullibility and overeager trust, but my body's collapse, while eight years in, is difficult for me to come to terms with, because as a child, I lived a life of a rubber ball: always able to bounce back from all I'm thrown against.

But I'm old, now. I don't mean age, anymore, though yes, it's up there. My body is old. Illness has aged it. I cannot reverse how badly my body has been damaged; it's permanent til death.

It's hard to accept this, as someone used to physical freedom for the first 26 years of their life. But here I am, and this is the way it is:

This pain is permanent, and it will likely kill me.

I'm not certain how. I want it to be natural causes. But sometimes, when I'm in the darkest of places, the worst aspects of my mind and soul, I yearn to give up, to stop feeling, to just go black, to make it all stop.

I've come close. Since Nim died, it's been a daily struggle, one that has eased with time and support, but one that is, like pain and depression, permanent.

It's ironic, in a way. As a child, I never thought to take care of myself. I never thought to be amazed by how resilient I was. Instead, I just kept pushing the limits, doing too much, and it feels like, by doing that, I've sapped my lifeforce dry. I don't have any to spare, because I spent it all as a child.

It would be fine, if that childhood was phenomenal. But sadly, those moments of wasted life weren't always my fault; in truth, there were countless times in which I would have to use that life to save it, in turn draining it.

Irony is never lost on me.

I'm not intelligent. I can string words together pretty well, and bullshit the rest, but I'm not a smart person. At best, I'm mediocre. At worst, I'm a buffoon.

As such, I can never truly ascertain why people react toward me like they do. The default is hatred; the rarest is friendship; the best is family.

However.

I'm too clingy. When I make friends with a person, I attach to them like a barnacle. But it's the kind that saps a person dry, of patience and kindness and love, because I need attention. I need affirmation. I need constant reassurance.

Because I'm so used to not being what kind people say I am. I'm used to being told I'm everything but worth anything.

But being too clingy means I tire people out. People are easily exhausted around me, and soon discover that what I give is not worth what they give me in return.

I've lost a lot of friends over the years, a lot of people I would've died for, without realising that I drained them dry, and without realising that I was no longer the person they thought I was.

When people see my true self, they leave. 7/10 times, they leave. Sometimes it takes more time than usual, sometimes it even takes years, but they leave. They leave, because they see that the charm I put on, the cheerful facade of fun and games, is real, but not real enough, and not enough to make me fun, anymore, amidst the rest of the bullshit that exists within me.

Over the past year, I've lost several people in my life for the above reason, people who shocked me by leaving. Their reasons were either good or stupid, but they were not the real reasons. I know the real reasons, and I wish they'd just been honest with me, and confirmed it, instead of lied to me, and hurt me even more.

I hate lies. I hate being lied to. Honesty is the most important thing to me, and it's something I take seriously. If I lie, it's either so minute it's inconsequential, or I don't know it's a lie and have been misinformed.

But I get lied to a lot. I never knew why, until I just wrote this out.

People lie to me because they can't stand me, and it's the only way to keep me away, because I keep clinging way too fucking hard. So they lie. Then they ignore. Then they ditch. Sometimes they go so far as to demonise me.

It's my fault; I'm too stupid and too trusting, too clingy and too pushy, too nosy and too open. I scare people away, because when I trust them, I show them all of myself.

And that scares most people away. Because there is ugliness in me (not just on the outside, durrhurr, fuck you), and it's too much.

And... I get that. I totally get that. I am too much. I am too pushy, too needy, too nosy.

I'm too lonely...

That's my problem. My loneliness makes me desperate, and I come on to strong, yearning for someone to please, please, please, treat me kindly, be my friend, accept my care and maybe my love (always familial/friendly). I'm so lonely that I refuse to see the red flags in front of me, warning me away from people who will break me.

Except... the people who break me are the people I love, sometimes the most. And that's when I fall.

It's hard to be this sick, and to have to also constantly sew my heart back up, again. It's... draining. It's... lethal.

It hurts.

I don't know why I wrote this. I guess to explain my distance, here, as well as in general. People have been reaching out to me, especially when I ask, but I flee, because all I can see is the inevitable heartbreak.

I know nothing is permanent in life. That's the nature of life. That's what makes it so precious, so fleeting, so... good, and so bad.

And I just want to live my life happily. It's taken years to admit it, but I'm not a lone wolf type. I'm not happiest by myself.

I love people. I love friends and family.

I love to love.

And I guess that's why I'm always fucking everything up. And why I drew this picture.

Sorry...

[tara-l-blackmore]

Question

I know I'm not a very good artist, but is there anything anyone would like to see in a comic form?

It can be one of my fics, one of YOUR fics, or something completely original.

Anything at all.

Tell me whatever you want. The worst I'll say is no.

Please...?

[tara-l-blackmore]

Lyrics: Only If For A Night

And I had a dream,

About my old school.

And she was there, all pink and gold and glittering...

I threw my arms around her legs...

Came to weeping (came to weeping)...

Came to weeping (came to weeping)...

And I heard your voice,

As clear as day.

And you told me I should concentrate.

It was all so strange,

And so surreal;

That a ghost should be so practical...

Only if for a night...

And the only solution was to stand and fight!

And my body was bruised and I was set alight!

But you came over me like some holy rite!

And although I was burning, you're the only light...!

Only if for a night...

And the grass was so green, against my new clothes!

And I did cartwheels in your honour,

Dancing on tiptoes;

My own secret ceremonials,

Before the service began...

In the graveyard...

Doing handstands...!

And I heard your voice,

As clear as day.

And you told me I should concentrate.

It was all so strange,

And so surreal;

That a ghost should be so practical...

Only if for a night...

And the only solution was to stand and fight!

And my body was bruised, and I was set alight!

But you came over me like some holy rite!

And although I was burning, you're the only light...!

Only if for a night...

Madam, my dear, my darling!

Tell me what all the sighing's about,

Tell me what all the sighing's about...!

And I heard your voice,

As clear as day.

And you told me I should concentrate.

It was all so strange,

And so surreal;

That a ghost should be so practical...

Only if for a night...

Only if for a night...!

--by Florence + The Machine

I miss you, so much, Lynn...

[tara-l-blackmore]

Too Heavy A Burden - Lyrics

If I were strong enough,

I'd carry you home through the storm;

But I'm not enough, you see?

And if I could, I would be

Your long lasting love faucet;

But I'd be drowning, there, you see?

I am not enough, you see?

I am not enough, you see?

I am not enough, you see...?

If I were strong enough,

I'd carry you home through that storm;

But I'm not enough, you see?

And if I could, I would tuck you

In each night, sing you to sleep,

Until you can find relief.

But I am out of batteries...

No, I am not that strong, you see?

I am not enough, you see...?

--The Tiny

No; I am a failure...

I am not enough...

Giving up on me is the only way to give yourself a chance...