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Former Information (<18 hours old as of now)
12 years ago
I'VE BEEN WAITING AROUND TO SEE WHAT I MIGHT DO THIS WHOLE TIME AND IT HAS BEEN ABOUT THREE YEARS AND IT SEEMS AS IF JUST YESTERDAY I WAS WATCHING THE CREATION OF ARTWORK THAT WAS CREATED THREE YEARS AGO I WILL DIE IN THIS LIFETIME MY DEATH IS TOMORROW I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING I AM UNDEVELOPED AND BECAUSE OF THAT I HAVE NOTHING SPECIAL TO SHOW FOR IT AND I CAN'T MAKE SOMETHING THAT IS SPECIAL IN A DAY I AM STUCK BENEATH THE BAR AND EVERY LIMB IS RESTRAINED I CAN'T REACH NO MATTER HOW HARD I FORCE FORWARD I BLAME IT ON THE ALUMINIUM WHICH IS WHAT IS CAUSING IT BUT SIMPLY PROJECTING VISCOUS STREAMS OF BLAME ONTO THE NAME OF THE PROBLEM DOES NOT FIX THE PROBLEM IT ONLY SLIGHTLY RAISES THE AWARENESS IN THE LAST DAY OF MY LIFE AND PEOPLE NEED TO BE TOLD TWICE SO WHEN THEY COME ASKING ME IF I COULD TELL THEM AGAIN I WON'T BE THERE AND MY STREAMS OF WORDS AND HAIR AND IDEAS FROM MY THROAT WILL BE FORGOTTEN WHEN I DIE TOMORROW BECAUSE I TOLD ONLY PEOPLE WHO DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO SHOW FOR THEMSELVES
ALL BUT ONE WHO I WOULD LOVE TO RESPOND TO MUCH MORE FREQUENTLY BUT I FEEL SO STIFF WHENEVER I CAN AND IT MAKES ME SICK TO THINK THAT ALTHOUGH I AM HUMAN I ACT AS IF I AM AS CAPABLE AS A CREATURE WITH A MIND THAT IS INCAPABLE OF RESPONDING TO ANYTHING BUT WHAT IS REPEATED ON A DAILY BASIS
THIS IS NOT A GAME OF SURVIVAL UNTIL WE'RE ALL RUNNING INTO EVERY BLADE PROTRUDING FROM WALLS MADE OF MUD AND GRASS AND BLADES AND BULLET HEADS MADE OF LEAD AND "DEPLETED" URANIUM AND BIRTH DEFECTS
I WILL DIE THE DAY FOLLOWING MORROW, AND THE DAY BEFORE THAT
FOUND BY MY OWN CAMERAS, CREATIVE UTILITIES BLEEDING FROM MY EVERY PORE
AND I'LL SAY,
"ON THIS LAST DAY AND THE NIGHT BEFORE, ON THE PLATFORM OF THIS PETRIFYING COMA, WITH EVERY OTHER CLONE OF ROTATIONS AND SLOW-PACED CLAYMATIONS, BUT NOT THE LAST FOR THE FIRST TIME!"
PERPETUAL REVOLUTION KILLS THE INNOCENT WILDLIFE, ALTHOUGH THEY HARDLY HAVE ANYTHING TO SHOW AS INDIVIDUALS
I'M GOING TO ECHO THE MOST STEMLESS, MEANINGLESS OF CHANTS AND THEN WONDER WHY I'M GARNERING NO RESPONSE FROM MYSELF!
I'M GOING TO RECALL THE DAIRY FROM ITS POSITION AT THE VALVE OF MY THROAT!
I'M GOING TO ECHO THE MOST REMARKABLY FORMED SOUND—THAT WHICH IS NOT SOUND, BUT IS INSTEAD MATTER—FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY THROAT!
I'M GOING TO BE THE SEAL IN A SUIT, WHICH BECAME A DOLPHIN IN A SUIT, THAT I WOULD FIND AS THE ONLY LIVING, EXISTING THING—SQUEAKING TO BE IMAGINED INTO A LESS CRUEL EXISTENCE—IN DREAMS OF THE LONG SINCE FLOODED SHORES OF A ONCE RICH POLYMORPHIC SUN, PERFECT SANGUINE SKY-TO-SEA COLOR PROJECTION, AND EXTRAORDINARY ISOLATION AS I BECAME THE DOLPHIN
ALL BUT ONE WHO I WOULD LOVE TO RESPOND TO MUCH MORE FREQUENTLY BUT I FEEL SO STIFF WHENEVER I CAN AND IT MAKES ME SICK TO THINK THAT ALTHOUGH I AM HUMAN I ACT AS IF I AM AS CAPABLE AS A CREATURE WITH A MIND THAT IS INCAPABLE OF RESPONDING TO ANYTHING BUT WHAT IS REPEATED ON A DAILY BASIS
THIS IS NOT A GAME OF SURVIVAL UNTIL WE'RE ALL RUNNING INTO EVERY BLADE PROTRUDING FROM WALLS MADE OF MUD AND GRASS AND BLADES AND BULLET HEADS MADE OF LEAD AND "DEPLETED" URANIUM AND BIRTH DEFECTS
I WILL DIE THE DAY FOLLOWING MORROW, AND THE DAY BEFORE THAT
FOUND BY MY OWN CAMERAS, CREATIVE UTILITIES BLEEDING FROM MY EVERY PORE
AND I'LL SAY,
"ON THIS LAST DAY AND THE NIGHT BEFORE, ON THE PLATFORM OF THIS PETRIFYING COMA, WITH EVERY OTHER CLONE OF ROTATIONS AND SLOW-PACED CLAYMATIONS, BUT NOT THE LAST FOR THE FIRST TIME!"
PERPETUAL REVOLUTION KILLS THE INNOCENT WILDLIFE, ALTHOUGH THEY HARDLY HAVE ANYTHING TO SHOW AS INDIVIDUALS
I'M GOING TO ECHO THE MOST STEMLESS, MEANINGLESS OF CHANTS AND THEN WONDER WHY I'M GARNERING NO RESPONSE FROM MYSELF!
I'M GOING TO RECALL THE DAIRY FROM ITS POSITION AT THE VALVE OF MY THROAT!
I'M GOING TO ECHO THE MOST REMARKABLY FORMED SOUND—THAT WHICH IS NOT SOUND, BUT IS INSTEAD MATTER—FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY THROAT!
I'M GOING TO BE THE SEAL IN A SUIT, WHICH BECAME A DOLPHIN IN A SUIT, THAT I WOULD FIND AS THE ONLY LIVING, EXISTING THING—SQUEAKING TO BE IMAGINED INTO A LESS CRUEL EXISTENCE—IN DREAMS OF THE LONG SINCE FLOODED SHORES OF A ONCE RICH POLYMORPHIC SUN, PERFECT SANGUINE SKY-TO-SEA COLOR PROJECTION, AND EXTRAORDINARY ISOLATION AS I BECAME THE DOLPHIN
Either way I was grinning from ear to ear the whole time I read it. Thanks for dumping it here.
Of course, by the time I actually figure anything out, it'll be tomorrow and my wrists will be "needed" elsewhere.
How on livid Earth did you manage to find my userpage? It sure doesn't stand out amongst... well, ANY of the ones on this website. So much color, there is.
Up until this point, I've only commented on three things and this journal entry is the only thing I've got on my profile in the way of submissions—if it even counts. You're good at exploring!
I hope I'm not misinterpreting the journal at all.
Seems like you're hung up on your body of work, and it's reception, not living up to your expectations. Like it's all ultimately meaningless because the only people who give a fuck about it are people who, in your mind, are ultimately not gonna' make a lasting smear on this world we live in before they die, just like you will-
Or it's just about the creeping despair that comes from that feeling of not being able to develop a skill you want well enough, or fast enough.
Is any of your stuff online where I can see it? Curious.
As much as I'd like to deny the idea that everyone that I know who finds my artwork interesting isn't going to make a difference in this world, it's more than likely that that's almost entirely (if not completely and totally) correct—but hey, I love them for taking the time to give me such encouragement!
Sorry that it took me so long to respond to such a small entry of text; I don't really have any good excuse. My excuse to respond now is that I've got some horrible variant of the flu, and on top of not being able to turn my head without it making funny noises, I can't think very well, so I should probably refrain from making attempts at creating things that are work-related—aside from general conception (because that can be perfected later on)—unless I want everything that I manage to mill out being as boring as a dinner conversation.
Here's something that I've recently uploaded here, into my scraps folder: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/12120270/
It's nothing new, but it's something.