Original Work - Blog Posts
Original photos were taken August 09, 2018!
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SC: kpsallison
One Day At A Time
I’ve always hated myself. For as long as I can remember. My memories go back to 4 years old and at that age, I remember hating myself. I thought other people did too. I always thought that the people who said “I love you” were saying it, just to say it or saying it out of habit, it never felt real to me. I felt as if no one cared or wanted to care about me. No one wants me. No one loves me. I hate myself. I’m ugly. I’m fat. My scars are gross. I’m too tall. I’m not skinny. I’m weird. I’m below average in everything. I’m dumb. These are all things I’ve said or thought about myself and this is just a short list. I never felt as though I belonged anywhere or with anyone.
I want to change that.
I’ve always wanted to change myself but it never worked.
I always wanted to be that person with good friends and family that made me feel safe and loved. I always wanted to feel “beautiful”. I always wanted someone to love me.
I always wanted to love myself.
I guess that’s what I really want, to love myself. I just don’t know how to do it. I’ve tried and I’ve always failed. How do you love yourself? Maybe it is a skill you learn as you grow up. Maybe it’s just something people just want to forget is living in their brain.
I want to love myself now. And everyday from now on I will try. And I guess I will keep starting over and over again for as long as it takes because I am worth it.
I am worthy.
I am worthy of love and affection. I am everything everyone has said about me and more. I am worthy of love. I am worthy of positivity. I am beautiful. I am smart. I am wanted. I am needed.
I will love myself one day at a time.
I'm Not Fine
How many times a day does someone ask you “how are you” or ”how are you doing” in a day?
And how many times do you say “I’m fine. Thanks. How are you?”
People don’t want a real answer when they ask you. It’s just a greeting, no one wants to know. And how many people would actually care if you gave them a real answer?
I’m not fine. I just say I’m fine because I don’t really want to say “I’m not gonna kill myself but I’m not okay.” So I just put on a fake smile, nod my head, and say what the socially acceptable script says to say.
I can’t think of a time when I was genuinely fine or okay. I just...exist.
Then one day, I just felt like I was drowning.
This all came from me realizing I’m a person I don’t like. That I never liked. I always said I would change. Said I wanted to change. I can’t even count how many times I said “today is the day”, the day has never come. I always never truly me. I was always what people wanted me to be. Always the girl who played it safe, never got out of my comfort zone. I never spoke up.
I fantasized about what it would be like to be anyone but me. Maybe because I never met me. Whenever I have let me shine through just a bit, it seems people don’t like her. Make jokes about her. Even my family. It's just a continuous hell loop in my head.
I think people just want others to be like the “average” person. People say it’s okay to be different, they tell you that everyone is free to do what they want, but the second someone turns their back, that’s a different story. “She clearly gained weight”, “her skirt is too short, the bitch is asking for something to happen”, “what was she thinking about when she got her hair done”, “eww, does she even know how to do her eyebrows?”
Why is it like this?
Why is it when someone finally shows that they do something completely normal, people are shocked just because it was done in public. They act like they don’t do the same things behind closed doors.
I’m just tired of not being the me I always wanted to be. I’m going to try now. I’m going to seriously try to be me and not what people want me to be or expect me to be.
She is now my past. I made the decision that she is dead. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss her in one way or another but I now know I don’t feel like I’m being drowned or can’t breathe.
I’m scared but relieved.
I finally feel as free.
I Miss Him
He was my best friend.
I don't understand why.
Why?
Why is he gone?
He is...was so young. Only 20 years old. His birthday is this month on the 28th and he will never have that beer he'd been excited to buy himself and drink. He's always been such a good kid, so innocent. He would tell me he wanted to go crazy for the first time in his life on his 21st birthday and he won't ever have that moment. I will never see his adorable baby face. I will never see his huge smile. I will never play with his curly hair. I will never see him running around my house like a little kid. He was the type of person that can light up a room instantly. He could make you smile on your darkest hour. He was like my little brother.
Now he's gone and there's nothing I can do. I can't hear his voice. I can't ever hear his singing voice again. We used to be the four of us and now there's three and it’s not the same. We don't laugh as loud anymore. We don't smile as bright. Something's missing with us.
I didn't want to go to his funeral because I was afraid it would make it real but I went anyway, for him. For his family and for our friends. I wanted to be strong and I couldn't. After the burial I practically ran to my car. I just sat and cried. I couldn't do anything else. I then heard two of my car doors open. It was the other two. We all sat in my car, sobbing. We held each other in the backseat. The three of us were devastated. We all miss him. I'm sad I'll never be able to tell him all the things I should have told him.
I love and miss my not so little, little brother.
Love,
Your forever sister
My Reason To Stay
A song called Reason to Stay by Drew Ryn is what inspired me to write this.
I wrote this song a while back when I was a teenager, seventeen years old. When I was younger I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I had the perfect parents, the perfect siblings, the perfect grandpa, the perfect home, the perfect little town that everyone loved because it was so quaint, but for some reason I was still so sad. I wanted to end it. I wanted to end it all.
One day I finally decided I wanted to go through with it. I decided the last thing I wanted to see was the full moon that was just three days away. The day before Mom had to go work at her shop, Dad was working overtime, our sister was at a friends house doing a school project and our brother was at baseball practice and pizza with the team. Mom left you with me, my three year old baby sister. It was like you knew. You told me in your tiny voice, “Don’t go. Don’t go”, I was confused at what you were talking about. I was just sitting with you, I made no indication of getting up, where was I going?
Then the next night came, after dinner I told Mom I was going to take a walk but as I started walking to the front door you started throwing a tantrum. You were such a good baby, you never did that before. I had never seen you do something like that, you were kicking to get out of Mom’s arms. Everyone was confused. You were kicking, screaming, crying and when Mom put you down, you ran to me and threw your arms around my legs, crying “Don’t go. I don’t want you to go. Don’t leave. Don’t go”. When you cried that, yesterday somehow made sense to me.
You somehow knew. You knew. You, my three year old sister, knew.
I grabbed you in my arms, sat on the floor and broke down in tears. I held you while we both cried. Our family just looked at us, not knowing what happened. Mom asked if I was okay, I just told her I had a bad week and I was going to put you to bed, that she didn’t have to worry about it.
When I walked out of your room you instantly started to cry again. That night you slept in my room, you slept on my chest. I felt your breath on my skin. The next morning I woke up before you, I just layed there staring at you. How could you have known? I never even voiced that I was going to do it. You woke up and looked at me with your big brown puppy-like eyes and asked “You don’t leave?” I kissed your head and told you that I was never gonna think about leaving, ever again.
Now you're sixteen, and you’re my best friend. We tell each other everything. When you were eleven Dad died and I was right there with you, holding you while you cried. When I left home, I called, wrote letters, sent pictures, sent packages, I did everything I could. When our brother and sister left home, I called everyday because I didn’t want you to feel alone. I’m so glad that I get to watch you grow into a beautiful, unique, intelligent, strong woman. I’m glad I got to hug you when you got your learner’s permit, I shouted with you when you got your license. I’m happy I get to talk to you about boys. I smile when we text every day.
Without you, my baby sister Grace, I wouldn’t be who I am. I wouldn’t have graduated high school, gone to college, I wouldn’t have met the love of my life at that college, I wouldn't be engaged right now. I loved seeing your huge smile and your eyes light up when I asked you to be my maid of honor. You are my best friend, my sister, and my savior. My baby sister Grace, you have no idea what you have given me. You have given me a life. A life full of smiles, laughs, giggles, travels, and lots of love.
I hope you never go through that feeling. I hope that you know you are special. I hope you know that you know deep down, you saved my life.
I love you.
You were my reason to stay, my Gracie Girl.
"Deep Sleep" 01/10/2020
Watercolor on paper
(ik the image quality is kinda bad)
Might post some pictures of the process later
colours on my face
february, march and sometimes even may
these are the months I await without fail
because they're when I get to play, colours of the rainbow stuck to my face
playing with gulal is fine ofcourse but nothing beats getting drunk on the rooftops
—and throwing water balloons? that's basically a hobby, a skill that i cultivated 17 years in the making.
Never missed a year but this time maybe I will.
Because in this new city with new friends, somehow they just all seem to have different commitments.
In the city that never sleeps where's the time for the little moments?
So this year will be spent all alone, colours of the rainbow stuck in the year old memories, on the echos of past me's face.
.
.
.
(so this is basically me being gloomy before Holi because my friends all cancelled and I don't really know many people here which is depressing and idk I'm just posting this here cuz idk)
the last decade has lead up to this moment, this day, this week, this impending year.
a sea of doubts and unfulfilled milestones, is what drowns her - the scared little girl on the cusp of adulthood.
She doesn't know how to drive, doesn't know how to kiss.
She hasn't loved and hasn't ever been the one receiving it.
But yet, time does go on and it doesn't wait for her for to feel "grown up" .
It goes on to lead everyone to this moment, this day, this week, this impending year.
(I was trying to write a poem talking about how everything is riding on my last year of school but this reads better as prose so here I am)
^^ Pansexual pride!!! Her name is Violet Ann-Lee and she's a proud pansexual!
𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜. . .💙💛
https://www.instagram.com/irisofceylonphotography?igsh=MTE3ejQ3NGQzaDMwZA==
her beer tasted of sawdust and foam coated her boots; nuts were bland and counter sweaty. but the air was lime fresh and the night neon young and she was free.
myra.
mess mess mess
my mind’s
cluttered mess
doesn’t the daisy calm your nerves, dear?
there are no exits where you’re going
no socks
are allowed in the red-room
no pretty pink flowers
are allowed
at the woods at night
it was nearly 4 am as red light streamed out the bar, sifting through drunk legs. it was closing time, even in new york city.
“let me take you home,” he asked; breath smelling more metallic than his eyebrow piercing.
she smiled into his swirling eyes,
and she was never seen again.
- myra
reminds me of the end of the world and i love it 🤍
~~
Sorta rock-ish/warm kinda vibe
Released this month, with two lines lol:
"Why do I, why do I, When you don't care"
A recent track from a new release/album ive created
I don't think i posted this yet. Lyrics are a part of the album aswell. Just not on all and not much.
Finished a track at like midnight
I enjoy saw synths
Actually maybe imma call it midnight cuz i made it at midnight
I lowkey needa good mic
I needa make more fr
"Be Like That"
Wip 11 1
Wip 05 1
Let Down [wip track linstrumental]
Recent highlights of recent tracks I made, all just messing around. Eventually I will probably share smth of progress from maybe 4 years ago. Got into music production at the beginning of the pandemic. Shit was crazy.
Me soundclouds and stuffs:
Cherries🍒
I had no idea what to draw. So I picked up brush and some paints and did whatever came to my head and here it is.😅
Paints+gelly roll+fineliner= this🤔👆
Background- Faber Castle Acrylic Paints
Cherries- Gelly Roll Pens
Leaves- Artline Pigment Ink Fineliners.
Watercolors🖌
Used watercolors after so long! I messed up a bit in the end! 😅
😀🌺
Tried fusion of flower and mandala💐
Ps: Happy Holi everyone!😊
@art @artappreciationworld
Dante and Virgil in Hell, William Adolphe Bouguereau (1850)
Excerpt from prologue :
Death does not knock. She comes unannounced, barging in brutally and leaving behind an inert body. Adanna never expected death to leave behind her father’s corpse, sprawling in the middle of their great chamber, letting his putrid scent spread through their little household. No blood and no disease — just gone. This is what alcohol did to a man — or so the old lady living on the street used to say. How could Adanna have known she was right ? No one ever listens to the blather of the seniles.
A deceased man could not speak anymore, could not lie, nor drink, nor hit. The only thing her father could do was lie there on the ground with vacant eyes, facing the ceiling, his mouth partially open, emanating a breath that held no warmth. The overwhelming smell lingered in every corner, clinging to her hair and the dying plants. There was only one reason why she hadn’t gotten rid of the body sooner : a need, sharp and gnawing, was driving her mad.
Rotting flesh is bitter, Adanna realised— far too late, after a few days.
Kneeling in the mud, retching the sour tang of decay still clinging to her tongue, she cursed the moment her teeth had sunk into cold flesh, driven by an odd curiosity, urging and impossible to justify. Patience always made for finer meat— or so she thought. But, Death was imminent and thus it demanded immediate consumption.
Thought ?
Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Original Characters Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Character Death, Implied Character Death, Gore, Angst, Found Family, Background Relationships, My First AO3 Post, sfw Summary:
A drunk scientist, A ghost, A revived teenager, all living on a ship orbiting the earth. Simple as that. Apart from the medical malpractice, not so legal experiments and the assassin trying to end their lives, everything's fine!
DGSDGFKEGKIUWGE oKAY so! first chapter of my original writing is up, now I need to hope the AO3 writers curse doesn’t get me :D
Whumpay - Day 11
Main Challenge - Ineffective Medical Care - Medical Torture Mini Challenge 11 - Dialogue - “Who did this to you?” Original Work - Ashfirth Farm
Rabbit unwound the handkerchief from his neck and mopped his brow. “Good day, sir. Come to help mend the fence with me?” Rabbit finished his joke with a grin.
Caldwell froze with a smile on his face. His smile disappeared. His mouth opened. All he could do was stare.
Rabbit was quick to notice and his grin faded. “Mr. Caldwell?”
Caldwell’s eyes dropped to the ground and then anywhere but Rabbit. “How did you come by those?”
“What?”
Caldwell reached out slowly with his riding crop and pointed to Rabbit’s neck. “Those.”
Rabbit reached up and put a hand to his neck. As soon as his fingers touched the puckered, rope-like, shiny scars, Caldwell saw Rabbit do something absolutely uncharacteristic.
Rabbit became embarrassed.
His eyes fell to the ground. His fingers fumbled as he tied the handkerchief about his neck again. He picked up his tools and got back to work.
Rabbit’s face was turned away when he tried to sound casual, lighthearted even. “Oh, yes. An accident, long ago. I’m sorry you saw that. It’s quite ugly.”
Caldwell didn’t miss the way Rabbit’s hands shook.
He usually would not pry. But seeing his friend so affected had him curious. Or that was what he decided he felt. He ignored the growing flame of worry and grief; the accident had to have been so awful that the normally unapologetic Rabbit would feel the need to hide it, and lie.
Caldwell got down from his horse. “Mr. Bell, what manner of accident befell you that would give you those scars?”
Rabbit Bell froze while trying to repair the pasture fence. “It’s nothing.”
Caldwell got down on his knees and began to help his tenant with the repairs. “It is not. Your hands are shaking.”
A long moment passed where Rabbit continued to stare down at the grass, tools held tightly within white knuckles, lips pressed hard together. Finally, he thrust the tools into Caldwell’s hands and stood up, laughing a little too bitterly for Caldwell’s liking.
“I told you that studied at the Kings Mages College in London.” Rabbit began, then stopped again.
A full minute passed by Rabbit paced back and forth.
Caldwell forgot the repairs he’d attempted to help with and just watched his tenant. Finally, he prodded Rabbit.
“Yes, you told me that you were a graduate from the college.”
Rabbit nodded and stopped pacing. He took a deep breath and spoke once more. “They perform research on a regular basis on the pupils and fellows of the college. This scarring is from one such research project.”
“What kind of research…” Caldwell trailed off. He couldn’t find the words. In addition to that, he felt like he was going beyond what could be considered polite inquiry. “I apologize.”
Rabbit sighed. He was trailing a finger along the handkerchief that covered the scars. Another moment passed and he took it off again. His shoulders drooped. His face took on a few lines that Caldwell had only seen when Rabbit was properly upset.
Caldwell stayed very still, as though Rabbit might bolt at the slightly movement.
“Because most spells require a vocal component, the research was done on only a few students. Gifted students.” Rabbit chuckled darkly.
“They wanted to understand what part the vocal cords played in spells. So,” And here Rabbit’s pallor became almost green.
“They immobilized the student with a paralytic and exposed the vocal cords surgically. The student was then asked to perform a specific set of spells while the vocal cords were observed. No pain relief was provided.”
Caldwell felt his stomach turn and struggled to keep his breathing under control. After he fully processed what Rabbit had just said, he felt a wave of anger overtake him.
“That’s barbaric.” Caldwell stood up and dropped the tools. He took a step towards Rabbit. “Mr. Bell, I cannot believe that learned men would stoop to such torture.”
Caldwell once again examined the scars. A central line ran down Rabbit’s throat with a few perpendicular scars. A cruel surgery. Was there any purpose to it?
“What were their findings?” He growled. “Other than a new method of torture?”
Rabbit smiled but it did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”
“Barbaric!” Caldwell fumed. “Utterly barbaric!”
“The fellows at the college would not agree with you.” Rabbit kept the handkerchief off for now. “It was a necessary act of service in order to further the pursuit of mages studies.” Rabbit sounded as though he were reciting something.
“Necessary, my arse!” Caldwell did not agree with it.
Rabbit laughed, a genuine laugh, and set his hand upon Caldwell’s shoulder. “Thank you for your support, Mr. Caldwell.”
“I believe any reasonable man would reject such an act.”
“A reasonable man, yes, but not a scholar.” Rabbit’s small smile revealed that some of his old humor was back. “You are a reasonable and an honorable man, Mr. Caldwell.”
Caldwell felt himself relax a little but a prickling anger still needled him. He wanted to do something for Mr. Bell, something to take the pain of these memories away. He had this itch to give comfort. But how? And why was this feeling so strong? Caldwell’s eyes rested upon Rabbit’s lips.
His cheeks were burning but it was a cool day. “You are too kind, Mr. Bell.”
The tension around Rabbit’s shoulders seemed to disappear and he bent down to the ground to continue his repairs on the fence. “Not at all, sir.” He replied.
Caldwell swallowed hard and got back on his horse, which was grazing nearby. He rode back to the manor in a daze.