road to eternal slumber (2018 - 17y/o)
it used to be bad, terrible even. it definitely does get better, but it is still difficult — maybe a different kind of misery.
#poem#poems#poets#poetry#artph#artmoots#arttwt
creativity starts to feel forced and not genuine. i start to cross-reference my journal to other people's journals and i feel a sense of "not chaotic enough." it simply isn't. and the more i force it to behave a certain way, the more inauthentic it'll turn out to be. ++
i didn't know that was one of those days i'd miss a lot. i'm not sure if i remember every detail but the feeling of being there is enough to remind me how fleeting and magical, even if extraordinarily mundane, things really were.
inktober day 7: EXHAUSTED (2018 - 17y/o)
the darkness looms ahead and engulfs the crevices of my soul. it sits on my back, like a pestering leech, embedded beneath the folds of my skin — stubborn, unforgiving, merciless.
#artph#artmoots#arttwt#art#rkgk
"まだ" is what i keep telling myself ; "not yet." when? life already started the moment i passed the red velvet corridor. i'm wasting so much time thinking i'm preparing to live. always always preparing for the worst, for the best. god fucking damn it. ++
journal entry: 7th of april (00:35, saturday) — my problem (2018 - 17y/o)
8 years later, i still don't know who i am and i'm still in the process of learning who i really am, but we're getting there. somewhere in the future, i'd know who i really am — or not — who knows?
inktober day 8: STAR (2018 - 17y/o)
twinkle binkle lightning star. how i wonder what you are? up above, this ladder so high. what the fuck is gripping on my thigh? crinkle shingle twitty star. look at all those hands behind my bar.
#artph#arttwt#art#artmoots#rkgk
i cough up blood; dainty and sweet. i don't know what dainty means. the spirals in my head are growing faster and deeper into my spinal column. the fire and water over me flashes before my eyes like annoying buzz flies. mechanic? it's up there and inside me. i'm an artificial boy