disappeared

i want to just
disappear
no one loves me
anyway
i’m alone
so alone
& no one
not ever
reaches out
just to say
“hey–are you okay?”
i’m damaged
hurt & confused
it’s no fucking secret
i struggle
every
day
& no one
not ever
just for the fuck of it
checks to see
if i’m still
breathing
i’m alone
so alone
&
i have
already
disappeared.

i’m going through some rough shit right now. i don’t know what’s wrong with me.
i spent yesterday reading through select years of my journals to see if i could figure it out.
i don’t seem to be an inherently bad person. just stupid. so why does everyone gravitate away from me?
why does everyone leave me?
or just have nothing to do with me to begin with. not even the other lepers want to deal with me. i always think i am ghosting–but no one saw me in the first place.
(except for the narcissists. they usually stick around. which is all the more damaging as it turns out.)
what is wrong with me?

if i had a friend or a sister who was alone in the country with four kids, i would fucking check up on her. why does no one ever do that?
it makes me cry.
i have been crying for days now.

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especially me

today
i hate
everybody
& wonder
if i should just
drink beer
for breakfast
because
what
the
fuck
i am stuck
in a world
full of
bullshit
& it’s all just
bullshit
&
yes
i know tomorrow
or later today
(after that beer probably)
i will feel
differently
& even might
find myself
aglow
with brotherly love
but
right now
i especially hate
that person.

another one still from this angsty week of mine. i’m a big old snarky mess sometimes. but, rest assured, the person i hate most of all is often myself.

ink & bamboo pens are wonderful for expressing messy feelings.

ps. if you are looking for some good stuff on netflix to have an angsty binge…i recommend happy and russian doll.

crusty & morose

my soul
is dislocated
i cannot feel
anything
but a raging fire
of
indifference
with light showers
of disgust
& several hues
of irritation
life feels like
lukewarm
leftovers
that i am hungry
enough
to eat
some of
but then the rest
is left
to become
crusty
a half-finished
bowl
of
disappointment.

it’s like a drinking game for mixed metaphors. ha! i am starting to feel better. doing art has relieved some of my angst. but it is still there. seeping. dripping. getting under my foundation and uprooting all my so-called progress (i had to throw in another fucking metaphor.)
i feel ugly & fat & my hair is just stupid & everything sucks.
but!
i will keep drawing & see if i can ink myself out of this corner. (does that count as a metaphor?)

credit to evelyn de morgan for the illustration today. she is pretty awesome & all of her artwork just oozes gloom & doom.

fickle & demented

fickle heart
demented mind

i am the moon
shining with my own
light
don’t listen
when the sun says
i am merely
reflecting his
this is
my light
& i shine
magical
fickle mind
demented heart

so what
maybe i am the one
who gave the sun
the idea
that i am merely
reflecting
his light
but
it is not true
& from now on
i will
totally
make my
own.

something is off with my words. i have been writing pages, but struggling with the words. i decided to go ahead & finish the pages & hope to maybe one day come back & get the words right.

sometimes i can see things in my head, but i have trouble translating them to paper.

or i’m glitching.

my dreams have been mad things lately. and though i am enjoying the perpetual autumn–there might be need for a deep & cleansing freeze to get me back in the rhythm of things.

also, my tarot cards warned me of treachery that would lead to sorrow & loss. so i’m a bit on edge.

this page is influenced by my lately super edgy feelings of angst towards men. men shining with my light–but saying i shine with theirs…something like that. i do like how the illustration turned out. i’m glad i decided to finish the page–despite feeling i have not communicated what i was trying to communicate….

moses jones episode 3 page 5

my brain is being pleasantly peaceful & neutral. which is great for me…but usually means no new art journal pages as i have nothing to obsess about right now.
so weird.
but! i decided to take the opportunity of having a vacation from angst to do a new page of moses jones.
fun story…just as i was finishing this page & thinking how i like the way it looks, i spilled a full bottle of black ink onto the page…and my journal…and the floor.
again, my brain took it in stride (i might have someone else’s brain right now) and i quickly chose to salvage the page first, the floor next (not realizing i had also spilled ink on my journal) and then my journal once i realized it was in a pool of ink.

so…thankfully my art is usually messy, but if it seems a bit messier than usual….
& moses jones pages tend to be darker than my other work. but this one might be a bit darker than usual…in more than one way.
i only cried a little while inking it.

everything happens

everything happens
whether there is a reason or not
everything happens
whether you like it or not

i started this picture a couple of days ago
it started out as yet another self-portrait…but i kinda morphed into some stephen tyler androgynous fairy person. then i didn’t know what to do about the background. if i had finished it that day, it would have been a completely different picture.
if i had finished it yesterday,
it would have been a completely different picture.
this is my day, today. my fairy heart is being devoured by the cat of angst.
or…you know…whatever.

so i was given a printer by a friend. and i used it instead of the camera i usually use to capture my art…but i am not sure what the fuck i did wrong. this looks weird to me…& fuck ups that i can’t see with my eye are showing up.

maybe i did the settings wrong?
maybe i will get this figured out?
or maybe it will just stay like this for now?
i guess we will find out.

*i did fix it…so if you are all, “wow, that does look like crap”…no, that’s just my art*

but do know this.
everything happens.

embracing chaos

embrace me
chaos
make me yours
embrace me
chaos
pull me under
embrace me
chaos
for you are
mine

after drawing this i realized it looks a lot like a portrait of my mother that hung on our wall all through my childhood. a portrait from when she was young & full of hope? was my mother ever hopeful?

anyhoo.
after finding myself so angry at the chaos around me. goats jumping fences. chickens digging where i can’t have them digging. then escaping when i try to pen them. goats jumping other fences. children. children. children being children.
chaos.
maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.
embrace the chaos.
do not fight it anymore.
let the chaos embrace me.

don’t ask about okcupid.
it’s gotten ugly.
that might just be me. feeling the angst of shallow waters. wading around when i want to be deep sea diving.
speaking of shallow places, i am back on the facebook. but for a good reason! remember my illustrations for mistress of mud? (if you don’t, there is a link up yonder)
so i illustrated a book for a friend, and that book is ALMOST ready for me to publicize & promote! yay!
but i had to go back on facebook to do so.
don’t worry…i will do it here as well.

frankenstein’s monster

i thought my soul
was calloused over.
that they could do
no more
to hurt me.
i guess a mother’s
love
or lack
thereof
is
something
you
never
grow too old
to be affected by.

no, wait, this is my favorite self-portrait. it’s me, as frankenstein’s monster. i am really happy about this.
the motivation, not so much.

my parents plane takes off in 25 hours and 30 minutes. i have barely survived. my anxiety has developed its own anxiety.

but i have not killed them nor myself.
there is nothing like having the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally
the ONE person who is supposed to love you
no matter what
there is nothing like hearing her say to you
“you are a bad person”
or her calling you an “asshole”
& a “stupid-ass”
& an “interloper.”

it has been eye-opening. and healing in its own weird way to realize where all this low-self esteem comes from.
and, of course, tons of material for an upcoming tell-all memoir.

jekyll & hyde

no one tells you
how hard it is
to be both a mom
& a real person
that those flaws
you have
as a real person
just become
as amplified as fuck
when you become
a mom
because a mom is
both more than a real person
& less

so a trifecta of mom journal page self-portraits today…but my demons are still not exorcised.
sigh.
i feel bad for my kids…but i wonder if someday they will feel bad for me.
i am trying. i really really am. some days go better. some days i am able to be a so-called real person.
other days…

this is the second one today that borrowed from a famous novel.
first i was gulliver…now i am dr. jekyll.
(or am i mr. hyde?)

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