Saturday, April 30, 2016
Looking more than just one step ahead this time.
Alright. So I redid my logo. I'm looking into doing design work for streamers on Twitch. I'm working on getting a contract template as well as my invoice template done. Just got this image done for my branding. I'm pretty hype about getting art done for casters. I hope that I can make it a success.
I'm working on emotes for my channel too. I've done some in the past but here are some I just did recently. I hope to include emotes in my Twitch design thing as well as on screen animations with CLR Browser using Flash animations.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
ajpup3ojr
All I ever wanted was you.All I ever needed was you.
All I could think about was you.
Now I'm a ghost.
A distant chill.
A shiver.
A faded reminder.
Never a second thought.
You ever felt left behind?
Like as if life just dropped you off, told you, "I'll be right back, just a bit." But after a bit you realize that it's not coming back?
Other people got to go, you see them.
Life walked away with everyone else laughing and having a good time, but you. You're left there wondering what's going on.
The success, the happiness, the worth, the value, the validity, the validation, the life, the feelings, the emotions, the love, the lust, it's all just not there. You see it everywhere else.
But you, an exhibit of failure, is left behind for no apparent reason.
That abandonment just welling up inside of you as everything you try or put your whole heart into just turns to dust or blows up in your face.
You just tell yourself, "I'm following my heart." or "I'm doing what they did, just going until I make it."
But fucking when is it your time? Where's your turn, or you rchance?
You can only salvage so much from these failures, speed bumps, heartbreaks, blips, fuck-ups, and or bad investments of time and effort.
You can't help but feel like you're grasping for what little remains of that HOPE. Trying to use hope as glue, slowly piecing it back together as you sloppily drop it on the floor again, braking it even more. The hope that one day it will be different. It will be better. It will change.
And that's all you have, the hope that your little dirt pile, your weathered and worn pile of you.
You've been hungry for so long, you no longer have an appetite.
You've been lonely so long that you no longer understand or care for that feeling of love.
You've been hurt so much that you're blind to kindness.
You're so jaded that you can't understand these simple concepts.
You're unable to act, stuck and motionless, dreaming of what you could have done right, before life left you behind.
You look to remember a glimpse of victory.
You want to feel that shine of success, but you're just a husk of what could have been.
All I could think about was you.
Now I'm a ghost.
A distant chill.
A shiver.
A faded reminder.
Never a second thought.
You ever felt left behind?
Like as if life just dropped you off, told you, "I'll be right back, just a bit." But after a bit you realize that it's not coming back?
Other people got to go, you see them.
Life walked away with everyone else laughing and having a good time, but you. You're left there wondering what's going on.
The success, the happiness, the worth, the value, the validity, the validation, the life, the feelings, the emotions, the love, the lust, it's all just not there. You see it everywhere else.
But you, an exhibit of failure, is left behind for no apparent reason.
That abandonment just welling up inside of you as everything you try or put your whole heart into just turns to dust or blows up in your face.
You just tell yourself, "I'm following my heart." or "I'm doing what they did, just going until I make it."
But fucking when is it your time? Where's your turn, or you rchance?
You can only salvage so much from these failures, speed bumps, heartbreaks, blips, fuck-ups, and or bad investments of time and effort.
You can't help but feel like you're grasping for what little remains of that HOPE. Trying to use hope as glue, slowly piecing it back together as you sloppily drop it on the floor again, braking it even more. The hope that one day it will be different. It will be better. It will change.
And that's all you have, the hope that your little dirt pile, your weathered and worn pile of you.
You've been hungry for so long, you no longer have an appetite.
You've been lonely so long that you no longer understand or care for that feeling of love.
You've been hurt so much that you're blind to kindness.
You're so jaded that you can't understand these simple concepts.
You're unable to act, stuck and motionless, dreaming of what you could have done right, before life left you behind.
You look to remember a glimpse of victory.
You want to feel that shine of success, but you're just a husk of what could have been.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
jljljl
I keep thinking about how to start this damn cartoon of mine. I want it to feel real, real for me. Like as if it's my story of my life. But the successful part of it. The part that will never exist. Nothing I say from this point has to do with my cartoon, FYI.
I keep thinking about how I'm going to kill myself.
I keep thinking about dressing up with my nicest clothes and just laying down with the intention of never getting up again.
I'm living a tragic story of my own concoction, a formula, a percentage, a statistic.
I'm slowly just giving up on everything one day at a time.
People are saying goals, work, a significant other, a hobby, a something else, will make this emptiness go away. I've been living with it for some time now and to be honest, these people need to shut the fuck up. They don't know what they are talking about. I'm sick of hearing advice on how to tackle depression and anxiety.
Most of these things aren't fixed by my irrational fear of not being good enough, they aren't fixed by getting laid or working 8 and a half hours a day. They aren't fixed by just talking about them. It's a hovering sinking feeling that the only thing left for me now is to just die. I keep thinking about when I broke up with Genesis. How I felt like as if I wanted her to take the biggest risk with me and she didn't want to. Which I understand, it's fucking scary, but if we couldn't do that together then it was over. But it's a shitty feeling because I think she was the first woman I really did give a shit about.
Maybe if I tried harder. It's not about other peoples failures or anything. It's about what I did or what I could have done. Maybe if I just tried harder in school. What if I tried harder at Bookmans. What if I just did more than I could do?
In reality. I think it's that I did try. I tried too hard and this is why I lost those things that were important to me. I set my standards too high and wouldn't compromise. It fucked things up. Because I tried so hard at this chill job I lost it. I was too serious about it and no one else gave a shit. I tried really hard at school because it wasn't the place for me. I'm no fucking artist. I just thought I was because of all the people around me telling me they liked my doodles and stuff. I tried so hard at school to be one of the ones. The success stories. And because of these expectations I'm unable to act. I can't compete with a lot of these people who are real artists. The people that do deserve to be something.
I realized why I am single. It's because I'm a human pile of waste. I am ugly. I'm disgusting, hella fucking jaded. How anyone dated me before let alone let me kiss them is a mystery to me. I've been thinking about it lately. It's like they saw something in me that I don't see myself. They see my potential. I want to see what they saw, I mean they don't see it anymore, I'm sure because of things that happened.
What is this success or goodness that these people, my ex lovers, my teachers, and my old friends, what did they see me as?
Am I the greatest liar ever? Am I lying to myself?
I keep this idea in the back of my mind, "If I were to move away, start over somewhere new, would it be different?"
I keep thinking about creating a new me. A person of my own design and being that person from here on out. As if I'm already dead. To be something else would be nice right now. I wish I could just transport myself into a different plane of existence for a bit, so I can come back realizing how truly awesome it is to be alive.
I keep thinking about how I'm going to kill myself.
I keep thinking about dressing up with my nicest clothes and just laying down with the intention of never getting up again.
I'm living a tragic story of my own concoction, a formula, a percentage, a statistic.
I'm slowly just giving up on everything one day at a time.
People are saying goals, work, a significant other, a hobby, a something else, will make this emptiness go away. I've been living with it for some time now and to be honest, these people need to shut the fuck up. They don't know what they are talking about. I'm sick of hearing advice on how to tackle depression and anxiety.
Most of these things aren't fixed by my irrational fear of not being good enough, they aren't fixed by getting laid or working 8 and a half hours a day. They aren't fixed by just talking about them. It's a hovering sinking feeling that the only thing left for me now is to just die. I keep thinking about when I broke up with Genesis. How I felt like as if I wanted her to take the biggest risk with me and she didn't want to. Which I understand, it's fucking scary, but if we couldn't do that together then it was over. But it's a shitty feeling because I think she was the first woman I really did give a shit about.
Maybe if I tried harder. It's not about other peoples failures or anything. It's about what I did or what I could have done. Maybe if I just tried harder in school. What if I tried harder at Bookmans. What if I just did more than I could do?
In reality. I think it's that I did try. I tried too hard and this is why I lost those things that were important to me. I set my standards too high and wouldn't compromise. It fucked things up. Because I tried so hard at this chill job I lost it. I was too serious about it and no one else gave a shit. I tried really hard at school because it wasn't the place for me. I'm no fucking artist. I just thought I was because of all the people around me telling me they liked my doodles and stuff. I tried so hard at school to be one of the ones. The success stories. And because of these expectations I'm unable to act. I can't compete with a lot of these people who are real artists. The people that do deserve to be something.
I realized why I am single. It's because I'm a human pile of waste. I am ugly. I'm disgusting, hella fucking jaded. How anyone dated me before let alone let me kiss them is a mystery to me. I've been thinking about it lately. It's like they saw something in me that I don't see myself. They see my potential. I want to see what they saw, I mean they don't see it anymore, I'm sure because of things that happened.
What is this success or goodness that these people, my ex lovers, my teachers, and my old friends, what did they see me as?
Am I the greatest liar ever? Am I lying to myself?
I keep this idea in the back of my mind, "If I were to move away, start over somewhere new, would it be different?"
I keep thinking about creating a new me. A person of my own design and being that person from here on out. As if I'm already dead. To be something else would be nice right now. I wish I could just transport myself into a different plane of existence for a bit, so I can come back realizing how truly awesome it is to be alive.
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