22/11/24

Tonight I feel lonely. I barely engage in social activities, and when I do, I'm wishing it to end while the other person carries the conversation. I keep myself company, and it's fine for me, I'm too busy dealing with myself, I can't afford the attention another person requires. I want a dome with just me, somebody and the silence. Indulging in each other silently. Feelings devouring us. 

I think of what a future with someone might be like. Intimacy scares me. I see myself quickly becoming hostile whenever somebody steps where they shouldn't. I don't want anyone to see me bare. No one should ever see me bare. I'm not afraid to hurt anyone that does. If anyone is seeing this, yes I mean you, Alexie, I will personally strip you out of your body and devour your remains. 

The only way I can express my feelings is through art. Therefore, my mind has been busy elaborating the following allegories:
* “If you really are going to fight me, do it with your bare hands* Boom. Person A drops the weapon and violently embraces Person B. Person B is like “OMG I'm finally being touched by a human!!!!!” and loses the will to fight, letting Person A demolish them with their own teeth and hands. True love, indeed. 
I want Person B to be a monster. And a human's touch is sort of a sacred thing. It couldn't figure out another way to be touched because, uh, it's a monster. Everyone is scared of them! 
The white/blue/red melancholic vampire aesthetic is stuck in my head. Oh, and a person/monster with long white noodle hair. Androgynous ugh 
* “When you realize they're not the person you met” and grief over lost friendships has appeared a lot to me lately. Maybe Person B gradually turned into a monster. Like it couldn't handle intimacy. Like me.
I unintentionally self-reflect a lot on the narratives I create. Like those 2 knights who kept hurting each other, scared one would betray the other. The inspiration for it also? Gender envy 

I'm so frustrated. All I do is consume and consume and piling up inspiration and failing to create. I know burn out/art block is normal, and it may last a few weeks, but damn, a day without creating already makes me upset. I haven't got motivation. Who am I without my art? Without giving birth to something new? Ew, I hate what I just wrote. And I just remembered what I've been avoiding: pregnancy, misogyny, assault, sex. Of course. Intrusive thoughts accompany me to my dreams. I hate it. Shut up shut up shut up. I've been so tired because 2 weeks ago I was triggered, and these thoughts violently invaded my head and I still haven't recovered from that and so all my effort is on suppressing thoughts and hiding things from myself. Shit. Writing didn't work. I need another distraction.

Public because, who's an actor without their audience? I just made this up. Goodbye.