#trying and failing

[loveandleases]

To end the demo on a cliffhanger or to not end the demo on a cliffhanger? That is the question of the day.

[extrashortshorts]

If buggy drawing doesn't look like right

just open his big mouth, fixes half of it

[goldandorange]

I’m trying really hard not to fall in love with every single ul.tra.m.an

[howifeltabouthim]

. . . even when she tried her hardest, she still messed things up.

Shannon Messenger, from Keeper of the Lost Cities

[les-bonbons]

I love how Lestat always has his hair pulled back into a demure little pony tail (tied with a ribbon no less!) when he’s around Louis’ mother. This silly vampire is really trying to make a good impression.

[josiebelladonna]

late night bloodletting because i’m looking at myself, someone who’s not sex positive, and auditing this tidbit:

every time i try and get comfortable with talking about sex and sexuality, i always lean in too hard and spiral.

sex is not a fun or pleasurable subject to me. it’s this thing that simultaneously just exists and yet it’s got this vast weight to it. i approach it initially as the thing that just exists and something nudges me on the spiral, the thought that i’m not good enough, not sexy at all, completely undesirable, completely clueless to what i like physically, the fact i can’t write totally stimulating erotica worth shit and i feel like compliments are just there to make me feel better sorry ahead of time…

i don’t embody my sexuality, or at least it doesn’t feel like that. again, it’s just this thing that exists like an extension of me rather than an intrinsic part of me. i don’t know why more people don’t feel this way, either, like how is this even a part of you.

for me, it’s like a knife to my throat and it fucking hates me. i feel like i can’t explore myself without wanting to stop and choke myself at certain points. i’m completely lost. i don’t know what to do.

i’m such a ufo in comparison to the rest of the kinktober tag. every single one of these prompt lists have some mention of creaming, breeding, dacryphilia/tears, free use, and cnc to them (and i don’t have any idea what those last two are, either, and i’m afraid to find out) and here i fucking am, fetishizing the human belly in full detail and playing with sharp objects and nice fabrics. i pulled my prompts out of ME and i take a look around and see… “requests! requests! give me your requests!” or: “random generator!” (i tried one of those and i must have flipped through like five or six, i didn’t like any of the prompts listed on any of them). god, are we surprised that my prompt lists got buried in the last two weeks? it’s fucking lonely. when you see your kink out in the open from someone else, it’s affirming. when all you see is the same 31 prompts listed over and over again with a few deviations here and there, it makes you feel like an alien.

i don’t know what sexual pleasure feels like. there’s nothing sexy here. i touch myself and i have to stop almost immediately because i’m not comfortable.

then there’s kinktober last year. i saw someone say they “really enjoyed last year’s event”, to which i say good for fucking you. i wanted to slit my throat last year. nickybloodhead hogged the attention (and i’ll never forgive the metallica fandom for it, either) and everyone used the same kinks, from their own lists as well as the official one. everyone became a jew-hater overnight. i don’t know how anyone gets off.

do i just need permission? is that the problem, permission? how do i even give myself permission? do i just say “i give myself permission” and it’s like a sprinkling of fairy dust?

i can’t ever see myself in a sexual situation. i really can’t. sure, i’ve cybered. i’m participating in kinktober (god help me). i started flirting more and i honestly don’t know if i’m doing it right. i’m just trying to envision myself in a situation where i can talk about consent with someone or telling them what i like and i literally can’t. how do you give consent other than replying with “yes” with your whole chest? do i really just have that much to learn?

i don’t know how i feel about my boobs anymore. they’re too big. they’re not enough. t-shirts choke me. forget shopping for bras for me. i can’t do jumping jacks that much. i’d rather walk, row, or ride my bike than run. i have never gotten compliments on them: always these incredibly hurtful assumptions that i got a boob job at one point—but, oh, that little skank billie eilish gets thirsted over for her gross-as-hell boobs. i can’t sleep on my stomach (and yet i can do the “upward facing dog”, “cobra”, and “bow” yoga moves no problem). at least my back doesn’t hurt anymore. i’m neither comfortable nor uncomfortable with my body, to be honest. i’m in this weird in-between situation where i want to wear more fitted clothes now, but when it comes to the thought of actual sexual situations, i want nothing to do with it. the only person to tell me that i have “nice curves” is my mother.

sometimes when i’m doing yoga or squats or—i’ve actually felt this doing my boxing or tai chi routines, and on my period—i’ll feel my lips open up and i feel… exposed, i’d say. i’m wearing shorts while working out, sure, but i’ll feel them spread apart and every time i have the same thought: “oh my god, that’s actually me.”

one of the reasons why i’m wanting to transfer my fics to handwritten form is there’s this huge part of me that has been wanting to disappear lately. just delete everything and vanish off the internet without a trace. doubt anyone will really miss me, too, seeing as all they want to do is judge me, make me feel like shit, and bury me alive (and then complain why there’s no art anymore); plus, when i have my life’s work back with me, i envision giving that vulnerability back to myself. it’s not subject to ridicule or apathy anymore.

when i’m alone, i feel it. it’s mine. i lay in bed and dream and i feel it. out in the open, i’m terrified and i know for a fact everyone is either going to hate it and laugh at me and flex at how much fucking sexier they are by comparison, or it’s tumbleweeds. i don’t know which is worse, tbh. the former is excruciating but i think tumbleweeds. not giving a shit about what i have to say because i never had anyone to talk to about this.

they don’t care about me so why should i care about them?

i guess i’m just afraid of illness. i’ve seen what s.t.d.s do to a person (look no further than freddie mercury). that shit got pounded into my head in sex ed in school. sex ed… i hate sex ed, simply because you don’t learn anything. i hate it for the same reason i hate kinktober, actually: you don’t take away anything from it, you have a craving for true intelligence and maturity, and it eventually induces the mother of all panic attacks. and an unborn fetus is a parasitic infection to your body’s ape mind, and there’s the dark specter of parenthood looming over you once the nine months is up, that is if you make the nine months. the whole discussion on abortion is completely baffling to me, if i’m honest. for me, it’s not anything that’s been said a million billion times over like “why are they so obsessed with controlling women” or something. it’s just… why? why is this such a huge deal and why has the conversation completely hinged on roe being overturned? like that is so fucking weird when you think about it. all of a sudden, no one wants to talk about sex anymore and instead turn to the repressed for guidance. to me, it’s just a medical procedure no different from getting chemotherapy or your gallbladder removed. i don’t understand the big deal, why everyone has to be up in arms trying to get it banned.

how do you even find experts on sex? this is yet another thing i’m completely lost on. how do you find educators, resources, sex workers, anyone or anything like that? i think i tried searching once and the slimy feeling i got doing it, like i was venturing into a place i had no business going into.

yeah, i’m a complete fish out of water when a post about sex or sexuality pops up before me. how do i react to this. oh, god, what do i do. i feel so big and cumbersome and ugly in comparison to this. i can’t do this. i’m stiff. i can’t. i can’t. i can’t say this about my own. no, mine is stupid and absolute shit, i can’t-

i really do feel i have no one to talk to about this. everyone is either under 18 and wants nothing to do with me (seriously, i’ve been seeing a lot more testament fans now but they’re all like 13-14 so that’s completely out of the question), are too busy, or they’re an antisemite and i can’t trust them. i don’t even know how to talk to someone else about sex.

i wish my feelings were straightforward. i wish this wasn’t so confusing and i could be free and call myself a sex positive person… but i’m not.

i’m not sex positive at all, and i want to say that i wish i was but i’m inexplicably reluctant.

[imalsorettish]

Ive been processing materials all week trying to make clay. Heres how it went, ill add to this as the days go by. this is just a recap

Gathered clay from my folks backyard. The soil there has always been shit to grow things in because its so high in clay. And the clay sits directly at the surface as well, its not just a foot down or anything. the whole fucking thing is clay. Ive tried to do this once when i was much younger, less even paced, and far more impulsive. It wasnt successful for a number of reasons.

- Got the material wet before i could even attempt to refine it down to just clay, which then meant id have to pick thru sludge with my hands to remove rocks and other debris.

- I decided to let the bucket sit to dry out, and then i never picked it up again.

- Straight up didnt know what i was doing. Well, i knew the essentials. It was obvious we had clay. I knew it had to be wet. It occurs to me now that i might have had an easy time recogbizing what was there and what to do because my grest grandparents were potters. My Mémé (Great grandma, ik it says meme. whats truly hilarious is she married a guy called pepe.) was a BITTER and mean woman. She and my grandmother would let me play with clay while i visited them, but i dont have good memories of this. I didnt investigate the craft due to the discouragement i got from them both. i found it intensely frustrating and it really clashed w my adhd.

- Clay takes a LOT of patience to work with. Even more to source it yourself and fiddle with the consistencies and ratios so u can manipulate into an actual piece, and EVEN THEN its not guaranteed that it will work well at ALL. Pieces often crack, dry incorrectly, shrink up, and even explode esp in the kiln. I do not nor have ever had a pottery wheel or a kiln. My only goal to satisfy doing this, then, was just to make clay and do nothing with it at all. Just to try it, see what my capabilities were, etc. There was absolutely no plan.

Since then, I found myself thinking about clay periodically. Every few months or so id return back only to the idea, and then brush it off. But ive never quite shaken it. I was 19 then. I turn 24 this march. Its been 5 years. So im trying it again, because i want to, and because i found pottery that finally interested me and i think would be fun and challenging to make.

[strawberry-scented-creations]

FMP UPDATE

FMP=final major project

Sorry that I've been inactive, I'm not good at actually posting.

For my FMP I was going to do a short horror film but that fell through badly because me and my actors all fell ill one after the other, so we changed the idea. Instead of a short horror film we are now aiming for the stars with a mockumentary about us failing to make the horror film! I thought this would be easier on me especially with the time restraint, I also had some material for it already from our first horror filming session because we can't do anything without bloopers.

I'll be posting some more posters that I've made for the mockumentary too so stay tuned for that!

[ashxxgyu]

ash stop writing for only Beomgyu challenge ✨🤪

[andrewmnyard]

trying not to be offended that my cat doesn’t want to sit in my lap :/

[mooninkling]

I want to fly. Reach and touch the sun so I could explode with a shake. So that I could be finally free. I want to fly and touch the sky and know that I've done it all. My mind had been so full of dreams and hopes, now replaced with so much struggle to even keep breathing. Sometimes I think I'm wearing a cape that makes me invisible and no matter how much I scratch my skin, make it bleed, it doesn't seem to get off me. Do I ask for too much? Do I? It just feels easier to set everything aside and stop the game. Put an end to all this misery. But I'm reminded again that nothing is mine. Not even my life. Even that belongs to someone else to do what they want with me.

-I want to fly

[tandoorinightsmare]

What I meant to do was smell my new shampoo and conditioner, because it's a flavour I've never tried before.

What I didn't mean to do was squeeze the conditioner so hard that it came out if the bottle, getting all over my face and school uniform in the process.

Whoops.

[bbybearcubbs]

Being undiagnosed with ADHD but knowing you have it sucks cause then sometimes since I'm not officially diagnosed I second guess myself and call myself just lazy and troublesome and stupid and slow because I could just be using ADHD as an excuse to not put in the work that I know I'm putting in but it's not working and I feel like I'm stuck at places I shouldn't be when my peers are all moving forward added that when you try to talk to the schools guidance officers about it they say the same thing, "Maybe you're not trying hard enough" or "How are you sure you have ADHD? But don't give me reasons like, you've seen other people with it and heard adults with it say they went through exactly what you're going through right now and school life was hell because they weren't diagnosed til they were adults"

[valtsv]

it's such a bummer that losing control of your emotions only makes the entire situation worse in really embarrassing personal ways. losing control of my emotions should give me pyrokinesis.

[idratherhavefreedom]

[cryptocism]

"just as I did, in 1983."

you'd never know my favourite parts of the show are the fucked up insane bits when my first instinct is to draw the cheesiest thing imaginable