Working

Jan De Vliegher (Belgian, b. 1964), Pigeons 2, 2010. Oil on canvas, 60 x 90 cm.

my own personal interpretation of this album:

cw: big giant vent

it completely simulates the awful, life-lasting loneliness of being by yourself all the time. screaming so fucking loud and salivating over the floorboards and all over your own shirt during a meltdown and no one is there to hear it and you DON'T WANT anyone to hear it. your heart is screaming for help but your mind doesn't want anyone to know about this embarrassing shit you're doing. the howling, the manic, running, flashing words and sentences that make no sense but make you so frustrated. i don't want anyone to see me like this, i don't want anyone to ask me about it, but i want someone to at least k n o w. the stupid bipolarity of my mind and the need to ask for help and the need to talk it out but the way my autistic ass was raised to not tell people about myself or what i do or what i think or what i feel because it makes people "uncomfortable" and i am spoiled. i am so spoiled. i have no RIGHT to complain. none of my problems or concerns matter because i am SPOILED. i am always the bad person. i am the bad person i am so bad and i am so horrible. you will be fucked whether you like it or not. you will be trauma-dumped on whether you like it or not. if you complain - you are a bad person. every time i was witnessed having a panic attack or a meltdown, i end up being the one apologizing just because they had to look at me. i am at fault because they saw me in pain. i am at fault because i asked for help. i am spoiled. i have no right to complain. i hurt people close to me whenever i open up. any time i mention an anxiety or a negative thought i am shut off. i have no right to complain because i am spoiled. my being is making people upset. i make people frustrated because i am not normal. i have always been the bad person. this album represents the feral, angry, pain-ridden wolf that i have to keep inside because it hurts people. my pent-up anger, sadness, anxieties and stress materializes as horrible words and insults and manipulation. i've never learnt how to express my emotions properly because whenever i tried, i kept being told to shut the fuck up because i have no right to complain because i am spoiled. i don't know my own limits, i don't know my boundaries - they've all been broken. my body has been given away. i am used and i let myself be used because i feel purpose that way. i will always hear people out and i will never comment anything negatively or criticize because i have no right to do so. i am not. allowed. to speak. my mind. every word, every feeling, every pain is kept inside. the absolute frustration and psychosis in this album comforts me so much because i feel like i am listening to myself vent, because noone wants to hear it because i have no right to complain because i am spoiled.

time has passed and i believe the worst is behind me. from overdozing to people making fun of me hurting myself because it's not "serious enough". from many, many misdiagnoses to dropping medication and experiencing the withdrawls. i have only recently accepted the fact that i have autism and that nothing within me can ever be healed or fixed. i am, and forever will be, who i am. people can be mad at me for it. i am learning to finally start expressing my emotions in a calm, healthy way, without fearing that people will reject me. little by little, the screams inside lower. the things i've done in the past, the people i've hurt, the ME i've hurt, so many times, is now in the past and i can only now start to change things and accept myself and learn to live with myself.

thank you so much @vyl3tpwny <3 rest assured that you really helped one person out (me)

If you've ever wondered why people in Hawai'i hate tourists, try to wrap your mind around the fact that there are CURRENTLY, RIGHT NOW, tourists sipping martinis and looking at fish within swimming range of the fresh corpses of local people who couldn't escape the overnight destruction of their entire town.

Try to comprehend that there are fully functional, high capacity boats passing through the waters in front of an area full of survivors who are stranded and in need of supplies, refusing to help. They are hosting snorkeling tours.

Really think about, try your best to actually picture over two thousand people unhoused and in need of shelter, with nothing but the clothes on their backs and nothing to return to. Understand that the island, stolen land, is littered with hotels full of air conditioned of rooms with beds and showers and toilets, each fully equipped to host hundreds of families for weeks, turning these people away because they're booked up with tourists who refuse to leave.

And understand that these tourists were offered free transport to return home or be hosted on other islands. Free. Courtesy of local tax dollars. 4,000 wealthy tourists were offered free flights shelter on Oahu and begged to leave the island, BEFORE the survivors were given shelter.

And enough still insisted on remaining and carrying out their vacations that people are left without shelter and resources while they enjoy "their stay in paradise".

[Edit]: This current situation, and this type of tourist behavior is horrifying beyond words. In other circumstances, the tourism situation is much more complicated, and I need to ask that people do not add on to this post unless they are local.

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me

Growing up is actually all about realizing people don’t inherently dislike you and it’s a bit odd to assume they do

i just lost the 50/50 to dehya. wrong pyro 5* hoyo. i love pretty women but please give me lyney. please.

@vyl3tpwny

>i'm going into BATTLE!

will you eat hers meals?

Don't vent to Pinkie Pie

@miku-spotted