message in a bottle

i stay on the beach
because
i still have
hope
hope that someone
someone
will find my message in a bottle
the jungle
is behind me
will it be
relief
or defeat?
an end
or a beginning?
when i turn my back
on the sea
surrendering myself
to the solitude
of my forest soul…

so i quit facebook again. i honestly have no idea how to feel about facebook…but i end up feeling
well, feeling empty.
facebook leaves me feeling so incredibly empty.
yet i return to it again & again in hopes that somehow there will be an answer for me. that somehow, someone will know what i am looking for.

i don’t know how to explain it right.

i mean, i realized that facebook interactions can give me support when i have a house full of abusive relatives or when i have a constipated child…but they don’t know how to solve a problem like maria–nor do they even want to.
i see other people get reassurances for their crazy…but, mostly it’s men getting reassured & called brave for showing their crazy.
when i show mine, which i do a lot…i mean how many self-portraits have i done as i try to illustrate my struggle with my inner demons???????
yes, a small handful of people respond to me & my art.
but
mostly it’s crickets.
giant mocking crickets in my head (because i get so little feedback/support for my art/struggle with sanity.)

sigh.

so i wrote this before i quit facebook to explain to myself the reason why i stay on facebook. or social media at all is because i keep hoping someone will find my–

(fuck me, the police “message in a bottle” came on the radio as i was typing this!!!)

–message in a bottle.

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talk to me

yesterday
while i was cursing & fighting ice
to give water to my livestock
i stepped on a frozen chicken egg
you know what?
it looked almost exactly like a squashed
cadbury egg…except no chocolate.

i should have taken a picture
but i am one of the only people
without a smart phone
so my life goes largely
undocumented.

i quit facebook
again
so now y’all are going to have to hear
random thoughts from me.
or not
but would a conversation kill you?

sometimes i just feel extra invisible…

ack.
social media sucks ass.
i mean
at least
for us super sensitive
extra damaged
introverts
sometimes i hate
facebook
so so so much
stupid tool
i feel like a stupid tool
extra invisible
everyone hates me
why do i do this
stupid
tool.

inktober3(3)

this is the third inking i have done today.
i am about to post it on facebook. in that stupid group i am in. and it will get zero “likes” as have the other two today.
inktober3(2)

c’mon.
my art doesn’t suck that bad.
why can’t i get a “like”….

and why do i care?

fuck a duck

i am ready to just quit facebook. a fucking social media site should not be able to cause me this kind of torment.
it’s stupid.
i know it’s stupid.
yet i am tormented.

IMG_0023

i am going to keep doing inktober.
i am going to keep doing art.
i am going to keep practicing my ink brush painting (right now i am opening the book the photo ark to a random page and painting it.)

and! and–i am going to get back to my comics. my moses jones and all the others.

it’s been too long.

so fuck you, facebook. even if you hate my art. i love my art.

i love being an artist.

a nice fucking neurotic artist.