The Redraw Of My Old Piece

Lunar Princess by Sierraex2

Great grey strut

wallmika

~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Whatever I do, I do it stylishly.

i got cat fur all over him you can see some of it

my own personal interpretation of this album:

cw: big giant vent

it completely simulates the awful, life-lasting loneliness of being by yourself all the time. screaming so fucking loud and salivating over the floorboards and all over your own shirt during a meltdown and no one is there to hear it and you DON'T WANT anyone to hear it. your heart is screaming for help but your mind doesn't want anyone to know about this embarrassing shit you're doing. the howling, the manic, running, flashing words and sentences that make no sense but make you so frustrated. i don't want anyone to see me like this, i don't want anyone to ask me about it, but i want someone to at least k n o w. the stupid bipolarity of my mind and the need to ask for help and the need to talk it out but the way my autistic ass was raised to not tell people about myself or what i do or what i think or what i feel because it makes people "uncomfortable" and i am spoiled. i am so spoiled. i have no RIGHT to complain. none of my problems or concerns matter because i am SPOILED. i am always the bad person. i am the bad person i am so bad and i am so horrible. you will be fucked whether you like it or not. you will be trauma-dumped on whether you like it or not. if you complain - you are a bad person. every time i was witnessed having a panic attack or a meltdown, i end up being the one apologizing just because they had to look at me. i am at fault because they saw me in pain. i am at fault because i asked for help. i am spoiled. i have no right to complain. i hurt people close to me whenever i open up. any time i mention an anxiety or a negative thought i am shut off. i have no right to complain because i am spoiled. my being is making people upset. i make people frustrated because i am not normal. i have always been the bad person. this album represents the feral, angry, pain-ridden wolf that i have to keep inside because it hurts people. my pent-up anger, sadness, anxieties and stress materializes as horrible words and insults and manipulation. i've never learnt how to express my emotions properly because whenever i tried, i kept being told to shut the fuck up because i have no right to complain because i am spoiled. i don't know my own limits, i don't know my boundaries - they've all been broken. my body has been given away. i am used and i let myself be used because i feel purpose that way. i will always hear people out and i will never comment anything negatively or criticize because i have no right to do so. i am not. allowed. to speak. my mind. every word, every feeling, every pain is kept inside. the absolute frustration and psychosis in this album comforts me so much because i feel like i am listening to myself vent, because noone wants to hear it because i have no right to complain because i am spoiled.

time has passed and i believe the worst is behind me. from overdozing to people making fun of me hurting myself because it's not "serious enough". from many, many misdiagnoses to dropping medication and experiencing the withdrawls. i have only recently accepted the fact that i have autism and that nothing within me can ever be healed or fixed. i am, and forever will be, who i am. people can be mad at me for it. i am learning to finally start expressing my emotions in a calm, healthy way, without fearing that people will reject me. little by little, the screams inside lower. the things i've done in the past, the people i've hurt, the ME i've hurt, so many times, is now in the past and i can only now start to change things and accept myself and learn to live with myself.

thank you so much @vyl3tpwny <3 rest assured that you really helped one person out (me)

worst roommates ever

(my procreate crashed 8 times while drawing this so please enjoy , this was made with spite)

print available in my inprnt shop as usual 😔🫶

– Virginia Woolf, from a Letter to Violet Dickinson written c. January 1909

[TEXT ID: "I appreciate your concern. None of this is your fault. It's me. It's me and my head. / In winter, I collapse." END ID]