I Didn't Want To Get Rid Of The Stretch So Instead I Struggled With Using Lineart Pens And Markers On

Day 3 from this week's painting spree!

I hate my diagnosis.

Why can't I just be one simple thing?

I'd settle for 2!

But /5/?

What reassurance should I be looking for?

I fidget but it's nothing major.

I obsess but it's not bad.

I sweat but I'm fine.

I scratch but it's ok.

I just...

I don't know where I'm suppose to go.

I just... can't.

I don't fit into any of these molds and they don't fit together

I've been this way my entire fucking life, why am I only considered disfunctional now?

I don't know what I am.

And I'm scared.

Doodles and poses of The Reaper, the Rabbit, and Her Conscience, cause it's been awhile since I've drawn them. It's so much fun to draw Lucy, which is obvious thanks to how often I draw her, in comparison to Dani and Luthier.

I really don't want go to his funeral today.

Hard rock from the 70s is soothing to my nephew??????(And me)

My dad and I have been listening to Slade and Quiet Riot with my 2 year old nephew.

Elijah(my nephew) just FELL ASLEEP while listening to "Bang Your Head(Metal Health)".

Eli, dude, how the fuck???

Well, I made more lesbians. Because, clearly I didn't have enough. Anyway, meet Calyssa and Quinn, an awesome mermaid and a fucking idiot- I mean princess... Calyssa is awesome, and smart, and cool, and hot, and super gay for the human princess. Quinn is a fucking idiot, and really friendly, and d idnt know she was gay(or that she was in love with her best friend: Calyssa) until our girl Cali kisses her. Also, side-note: I fucking suck at drawing muscles.

Sometimes I think back to -arguably- my most prestigious accomplishment: Being a creative writer in Piccolo Spoleto:Rising Stars.

And I think: why the ever-fuckity-fuck did I think those poems were good???

I was so stiff and awkward, it was terribleeee

But, you know what, if I were to get he chance to do it again, I would.

But I wouldn't read poems about love (for... reasons)-oh no!- I'd write some poems about anger, or sadness, or something stupid and meaningless! Because this are the things I should write about.

Looking back though, performing was such an insane experience that is do again in a heart beat.

When your friend kills himself and you cheer yourself up by drawing a lesbian and her nonbinary crush. I'm so good at coping. Anyways, these are my OCs. The girl doesn't have a name yet, she's an alien and she's either related to a rabbit god that lives on the moon or just really likes bunnies, either way. The other one is Sammie, a living scarecrow of sorts, I guess. They're a farmer that really likes pumpkins and doesn't understand affection/romance at all.

I'm making tuna casserole!!!

Update: it's not going great...

I'm not ignoring you, please know that.

I'm not leaving to spite you.

I Leaving for the benefit of MY mental health.

Why does everything I do count as ignoring you when you hate Me?

You agreed with him, but neither of you want to hear me out.

Stop thinking this is about you, it's distracting you from people you like.

What am I supposed to do...

I'm terrified of getting better.

The idea of focusing on myself scares me.

I'm trying so hard to get better but I'm making myself worse.

But fuck it, I'll comfort you.

Even though you're forcing yourself to pretend you like me as though you owe me something for crying while my mom called the cops that night.

Even if I'll never be able to forgive myself for being so fucking selfish.

How dare my mother take me out of school because it's been negatively affecting me and the only reason I even went was to see my friends.

Friends.

The people that hate me.

The people that couldn't care less.

The people that wish I were dead.

Fuck it.

I'll comfort you.

When no else bothers to think about how fucking guilty I feel for even fucking breathing, fuck it.

Fine.

It's not your fault.

You're not alone.

You're not selfish.

I don't hate you.

I thought...

Nevermind.

You deserve to live.

You deserve to be happy.

You deserve good friends.

You don't deserve to have me hanging around and overstating my brief welcome.

I'm sorry for manipulating you into being my friend. God, I'm so sorry.

I want you to forget about me.

I want you to stay with people who help you.

I want you to stop wasting time on me.

I'm a hopeless bitch.

I'm a waste of time.

So stop it.

Please

I'm so sorry.

I should never have been so fucking selfish.

Because I'm not special.

And things won't get better for me.

I deserve the shit they throw.

I deserve to be isolated.

I deserve for them to hate me.

To wish I were dead.

Can't say I blame them.

You can get better.

And I hope you do.

I'm sorry.