what’s the opposite of rolling with the punches?

so…i’m no longer living on a bus!
y’all–i managed to get off the bus!

me & the minions have a house in a quaint neighborhood of a quaint town in wisconsin.
and! i claimed a room as a room of my own! except for the pet rat, the dog, and being also a space for books & puzzles…i have a room that is all mine for writing & drawing & just staring out the window!
so that’s nice.
but i have flunked out of therapy…not before reprising my list of ideals for a romantic relationship, however.
next on my list of “what i want”…that guy who won’t make me feel like crap.

& then, also on the list of things i desire (after a roof & a man) is a job doing what i actually want to be doing.
i am working outside the home for the first time in forever….but the honeymoon is over on the new job.
now i just want to sit at home & draw…and write…and go for walks & on bike rides…garden a bit…travel….
sigh.

though i forgot about INKtober, as sarah of fresh hell pointed out to me, every day is kinda inktober for me. actually, ever since INKtober 2016, i have been covered in ink.
it’s a bit scary how much i have drawn in these last three years.
i should have a book…or something.
but, no, i am not exactly rolling with the punches….
i feel like a complete failure as my patreon page whispers softly to me, “my god you suck….”
& in other areas of life, mother–(crap…am i anything other than a mother???) i am also sucking suckiness.
if you want to confirm this for me (my failure as artist, writer, & mother) feel free to check out my patreon page.

so there is my way past due update, dear reader…

ps. i do not have internet (but would accept it as a gift) so any online postings are sporadic at best

loving the lunatics

holy crap
what if
what if
you can’t do
normal
what if dysfunctional
is the only
speed
you move at?
you say you want
stable & secure
but then
then
you secretly shop for
fucked up
you crave crazy
you love the lunatics
lists of issues
are a turn-on
is this your sickness?
is this something
you can recover from?
or is damaged
&
broken
just the way you
roll
your own
warped
happy
ish
ending.

originally posted on october (inktober) 7th of last year. this page of the invisible exhibitionist was inspired by/stolen from one of my favorite male artists (& a bit of a freak himself) egon schiele.

i usually post a picture of the finished portrait next to the original…but my camera, abused by minions, refuses to work. i had to go shopping for a cheap replacement & am waiting for it to arrive. when it does, i will post some before & afters of this page as well as “the wrong one.” though i still don’t like my re-do of “the wrong one” (i tried three times to get it right) as much as i did the original.
sigh.
for love, support, & a new camera... (haha, you totally thought i was going to link you to my patreon page….)

INKtober thirty-first

i hand my heart
to you
you
carelessly
drop it
in a corner
i hand my bruised heart
to you
you
break it
without
a second thought
i had my broken heart
to you
you
leave it
in tatters
forgotten
i hand my tattered heart
to you…
stop
back up
i hold my own heart
my own
tattered
broken
bruised
heart
& wonder…
what the fuck
do i
expect?

INKtober thirtieth

i can feel my brain
clawing
desperately
looking for a way
out
a rat
scrambling to escape
a watery grave
or an all encompassing
flame
smelling her own
singed fur
choking on the smoke
realizing
her fate
a wolf
gnawing off her own
paw
to be free
of the trap
where do i think
i will go
who do i think
i will be
if i escape
myself?

so.
been feeling a bit angsty these past few days. i have not yet gnawed off my own arm, but it has been a close call a few times.
i have hated almost everyone i can name who is in direct contact with my life.
so much hate. so much anger. i just want to disappear sometimes. get a mind wipe & start over somewhere i have never been.
innocent & free.
sigh.
but now it is the witch’s new year. day of the dead. a waning moon. and new possibilities on the horizon.
fine.
let’s see what tomorrow brings.

fun fact: one of my eyebrows is higher than the other & one of my ears is lower than the other, so i cannot wear a pair of glasses without the glasses appearing to be crooked.

INKtober twenty-ninth

you killed the me
who thought i could be
a good
mother
you picked her apart
tore her down
slowly
…deliberately?
did you want
me
to fail?
you turn
away
every time
i show you
the pain you caused
& then i wonder
why
do
i
still
try?
it’s ridiculous
really
that i am
still
still
still fucking
trying
to convince you to care
about
me
the person you destroyed….
why
would you care
ever
much less
now?

so this took me long enough to figure out. if someone is okay with hurting me once…they are probably going to be okay with continuing to hurt me and they probably aren’t going to be sorry about it.
i’m a bit dense sometimes.
okay, i’m often a bit dense.
especially about people who i think should love me…but really really don’t.

INKtober twenty-eighth

i am autumn
i am change
i am ready
to rest
to let go
to prepare
for
spring.

…if i survive winter.
i felt calm, hopeful even, when i wrote this as i watched the wind blow across the blue sky outside my window.
then something cracked & damaged inside me shifted. my rabies flared up.
now i am not so sure that i am anything other than a dead mom walking.
maybe i am not meant to rest.
like my own dear mother always said, “no rest for the wicked.”

INKtober twenty-seventh

i don’t want
to feel
angry
every time i see a forever
couple
in love
i don’t want
to feel
sad
wondering what is wrong with
me
that i am denied
that perfect
beautiful
love
still…
i hold on
imagining strong arms around me
feeling that warm embrace
knowing love evades me
i am doomed
to am amazing
inner
life
& an empty
outer
one.

i do not know what is going on here. it appears my vagina is a black hole vomiting stars. okay.
i draw what comes into my head.
sometimes i have an idea.
sometimes the idea has me.
as always, you are welcome to analyze my art & let me know what my subconscious is trying to say.

INKtober twenty-sixth

my lovely
lovely
demons
they keep me
warm
they keep me
company
never alone
when you’re
haunted
my demons
dry my tears
they tell me
everything
will be
okay
everything
will be
fine…
once i give up
admit defeat
disappear…
i know
i should
send my demons
away
let go of my
demons…
but if i do
what friends
will i have
left?

this post was inspired by yesterday’s post. yes, i am my own muse.
also, i have never seen the movie ghost…but this well-known scene popped to mind when i tried to picture my ever loving demons.

don’t know what this says about it all, but i accidentally gave my demon one of my tattoos–the one that is an engagement tattoo to an obsession i have done my best to let go of….
hmmm.
there are no accidents…right?
also, i totally think my demon is sexy.
i need to get out more….

INKtober twenty-fifth

i am not broken
i am not broken
is my mantra
today
i am not broken
i am not broken
should be my mantra
every
day
i am not broken
i am not broken
is what helps
me try
to stand
a little taller
a little stronger
helps me be brave
helps me live
to fight
another
day
even when
all
i want
to do
is
surrender.

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