I had a time in high-school where I freaked out bc I didn't know whatever the way I was was really me... I watched a lot of anime at the ti.e and really liked the way some characters were always bouncy and open with their emotions, so I mimicked that I the way I acted for a bit, the phase passed but I still saw the behavior patterns in the way acted, and it freaked me out because I thought I couldn't remember how I "really" was. That I was stuck in the act, it kept awake at night a lot. Feeling like this is hard, but I found that in the end, my personality and my behavior can be changed to my liking, even if something you do, or a personality traits you adopt start out as something that isn't really you, they can become you. You are shaped by your environment but also by yourself. In many ways, you can decide who you are

♡

*hugs* I hope it helped you feel better. It's ok to wonder who you are sometimes. It's great you can show this side of you to others, it took me a long time to do that

I struggle with this and the concept of a "true self" a lot, considering we are what we interact with and live in. ISometimes It's hard to tell apart what is me the way I was born, and what is "me" through my life experiences and bouncing off of people. Not even our own bodies are a singular "self" we are an amalgation of cells bouncing information off of eachother, and even the smallest changes in parts of self affect the whole self. I hate it but If there's truly a core of "self" we are born with regardless of what we go through, it's super small. I'd recommend reading on DMT experiences on erowid if you're interested in what happens when every bit of that Ego gets ripped apart - for some people it's exhilarating to find out that little core, for some it's traumatic as hell. - I know this is a vent and if my comment is out of bounds in any way I will remove it, apologies in that case.

No, don't apologize. Your thoughtful feedback is good and interesting to read! :) I appreciate it.

I've pondered such things a few times myself, especially since my life isn't what I'd hoped and dreamed it would be by this point. Unemployed and living with my parents at the age of 33. Thousands of unfinished projects cluttering my spaces. No certain path forward. My depression is better treated than it has ever been, yet I feel like my brain has atrophied to some degree, like I'm not as smart as I used to be. Whether that's the case, a lingering effect of the depression, or a side-effect from the antidepressants, I do not know.
As far as knowing others goes, we can only know others as well as they allow us to know them, plus whatever we can gather from observation and interaction.
Short of some kind of mind-to-mind communication being developed, we cannot know others fully. Even if such technology existed it might permanently change people to connect on that deep a level, thoughts intermingled.
But this is not entirely a bad thing. For we might learn things we'd regret knowing if we could know others fully and completely. Learn of urges or desires that they resist and give no outward sign of, that might change how we perceive them.
Getting to know others is a collaborative effort, each person sharing more and deeper things as mutual trust is developed over time. It is far from perfect, but has a certain beauty in that each relationship is wholly unique to those involved in them. Or at least, that's how I see and imagine it.
Getting to know one's own self, well, that is in some ways a far more difficult endeavor.
My clinical depression hit me hard at 15, a critical age for development, especially for forming bonds with others. The treatment I received offset my depression but left my emotional state dulled, stunted.
For a decade I lived like this, more-or-less in a mental and emotional fog, if that can be called living.
Finally I'd had enough and sought specialist help from those trained specifically in treating mental illnesses. Just as my first treatment all those years ago made a night-and-day difference in my functionality then, switching to the new treatments proscribed by those fully trained in such things was another night versus day experience! It is still far from perfect, as my emotional range is better but I find it difficult to cry even when I think I should or when I wish I would. But I find myself wishing I'd made this change years ago. I feel like I'm a lap or two behind on the race-track of Life.
Something I learned while transitioning from one set of medications to the other, is that I contain a fearsome anger, perhaps even a rage, that is (mostly) suppressed by the treatment.
Perhaps, if I had learned control of this anger while I grew, unhampered by depression, I would have an easier time controlling it now. Or perhaps my life could have gone down a dark and violent path.
I can only speculate and try to make the best of what I have in the present.
I also often wonder who I would be if I hadn't stumbled into the Furry Fandom and its highly sexualized contents when I was a slightly-underage teen. (not to mention all the disturbing things I found within the internet at large!) But again, there is no way to know, only the future to make of it what we will, when we can.
It has been said that you may know a person by their actions (especially when they think themselves unobserved) and by their works. This is certainly true, to some degree, but is far from the deepest one may know another person. Still, it is a decent place to start.
From what I have seen of you through the lens of your online presence, I have a sense that you are a creative person, taking joy in the making and sharing of your characters, stories and art.
Even this piece, as troubled a place as it may spring from, is beautiful and evocative in its own way.
I may not know exactly how you feel, nor to what depths you feel it, but I can at least commiserate with you regarding similar thoughts and feelings that I have had, in hopes of providing some comfort.
While we are influenced by many things during our lives, we are more than the sum of our parts and we have agency, free will, to choose what influences, changes, or defines us and our lives.
There are many things beyond our control in the universe, but we can at least decide how we approach what we encounter, to some degree.
Well, that's about all I have in me for tonight. I hope my wall of words is helpful in some fashion, or at least not harmful in any way. I am sorry that you are struggling with these existential questions right now, as I don't have full answers for them, but hopefully you will get through this and find enough answers to carry on figuring things out. This too should pass, hopefully sooner rather than later.
Thank you for sharing your vents and I hope your troubles ease soon. <3

Thank you for sharing your story! That was very brave of you to write out. :)

It seems we are in this depression together. I don't know when mine started, whether it was early teenagehood, childhood, or whether I was even born with it. (Depression and suicides run in my family. And also lots of cancer, so I expect to get hit by that in a decade or so, too.) I already started self-harming when I was 7. An addiction that I still cannot control decades later.

It is true, things pass. But other things arrive in its place. It seems it's the same kind of crisis, it just gets different names. "The terribles twos" when you're a small, angry and frustrated child. "Puperty" when you're a taller, angry and frustrated teenager. And now that I am an adult past my 30s, mine is called a "mid-life crisis" I guess? What follows is probably elderly depression and then death, I don't know.

It's these ever-coming, never-really-ending bad times why I get lost in a swirl of nothingness. Where I can't seem to hold on to anything, or even believe in anything strong enough anymore.

Sorry, this is my depression talking.

I have been to therapists all my life. Currently, I'm doing cognitive behavioral therapy, and I think this is the best thing I've found so far (and still, not sure if there is something much better out there for me and I missed it...). I also started taking meds this year.

I've learned that my life has been a whole lot more difficult and painful than I consider it, because I was taught to downplay everything. Because there is always someone who has a worse life than me. So why should I be taken seriously, right? :I

I still have it burned in my mind that I have to "prove my worth" each and every day. That I'm not worthy of respect and love unless I have great achievments in my life. That I can't just ~exist~ and be loved. Because that's not how I grew up. Have great achievements or be worthless, a burden. Maybe that's even how I got into making and sharing art online. So I could be worth something. I don't know.

I don't really remember having felt true happiness on the big picture. Life feels like a race where you WILL be left behind if you can't keep up.

You are welcome! I might as well get some positive use out of my story, right?
After all, a story unshared serves little use to anyone.

While my depression certainly hit clinical levels, rendering me unable to function, at the age of fifteen, looking back I get the impression that my view of the world started slowly darkening much earlier than that. Back at the age of... ten, I think? When my father's (adoptive) father, my local grandfather, died.
It was the first major loss in my life, as I'd only lost pets before then. His loss also soon revealed that his wife, my grandmother, had developed dementia and that he'd been masking the symptoms.
I'll spare you the details of her long deterioration into Alzheimer's and eventual death, suffice to say it was something of a relief when her suffering finally ended with her passing in her sleep.
As for self-harming, my sister struggles with that and suicidal urges as well. Thus far she's been unsuccessful in her few attempts and hasn't done herself permanent physical harm, but it's still a struggle. Fortunately, one of her other conditions is low muscle tone, so most of her physical self-harm actions cause little damage, be it hitting or scratching herself.

This is also true, yes. The only constant in life is change and it can often seem that those changes seem to bring new and different difficulties more often than positive ones.
I know that my current life situation is ultimately unsustainable, as my parents will eventually die and I had best be able to support myself before then. Especially since I cannot be certain my sister will be in a stable situation when that time comes, if she should live that long. Her health worries me.

I recall times like that, especially early in my depression and later, when I'd lost my job due to my depression preventing me from being able to keep up with my coworkers. (mostly due to my medications losing their effect or being unable to support me well enough through the grind of a full-time job immediately after graduating my college degree) I was fortunate in that I didn't suffer direct suicidal thoughts, I simply was very inactive, ate little, and slept a lot, wishing I could sleep forever but taking no actions to cause such a thing.

It's okay, talking is generally better than holding it in.

I foolishly didn't go to properly/specifically-trained therapists until recent years, as I felt my medication was adequate to support me at the time. I spent over a decade with inadequate-at-best treatment from my general practitioner doctors, which is made somewhat worse because it is a 'training clinic' where doctors fresh from medical school get their experience before moving on after a few years.
As I mentioned before, I finally switched my mental-health care to a local organization called NAMI. ( www.nami.org/ ) Where they have specialists trained in the latest treatments instead of general doctors trained on practices that could be as much as a decade out of date. Perhaps they could direct you to a similar organization in your location? But it's good to hear that you are seeking treatment.

I see this (downplaying personal troubles) very often both inside and outside the fandom, although it may be especially common to those of a creative vocation (artists, writers, musicians, sculptors, etc).
While on the surface it seems a reasonable enough thing, as there are usually people that are worse off, it does neither them nor ourselves any good to downplay our own suffering as that doesn't improve things for anybody. It is also a very common tactic employed by abusers as a method of keeping their victims quiet, so they won't seek help.

This too, equating one's worth with one's works, is something I very commonly see in the creative peoples of the fandom, although it is also a considerable issue in many cultures across the world.
It is a poisonous, insidious thing, using our self-worth against us so that we burn ourselves up chasing the fickle accolades of others instead of finding peace in our own intrinsic worth and value as a person. I hope that you can eventually escape such things, though it may take a long time and some influence may always linger, if only as a small voice that you can one day ignore most of the time.

I don't find myself pleased with the greater scheme of things, both in my life and in many of the directions the world has gone during my lifetime. Each generation seems to inherit the problems caused by generations past, piled on top of those mistakes they may make in their own time.
So, to retain (most of) my sanity, I try to find joy (and sometimes happiness) in the small things of life, and doing what little I can to help others get by, when I am able.
I feel that impression of life being a race quite keenly, though I fear I may be already too far behind to 'catch up' to the same level as my peers. All we can do is our best, help each-other when that is not enough, and hope that we can continue forward together despite what the world throws at us.

I also thank you for sharing these things, as this conversation is making my tired brain wake up a bit from the introspective thinking required.

I don't know how to reply to all this properly right now. But I read everything and I'm grateful to have this talk with you. :)

Alzheimer's is awful... I have lost my grand-uncle to Alzheimer's, though I can't say we were that close. We went fishing once or twice (together with my siblings and parents when I was little). But I remember how awful it looks to watch a person lose to this sickness. The nurses also said he struggled, it took unusually many years (I think 6 years) until he died, and it made both his physical and mental health all the worse. Eventually, he became a zombie, unable to move and talk by himself. The nurses also had to turn him around in his bed every few hours at night, so he wouldn't get bruises from lying on one side for too long.

There was also another person I lost to Alzheimer's, which hurt more both because we were long-time friends and because the sickness hit FAST.
In a time of crisis, he helped me get an education in a trade school so I could get a good job/better future afterwards. It was a 3 years education. After 2 and a half years, I get an e-mail from my mother saying my friend somehow fell down when he tried to get on his bike and ended up in hospital. That they'd check on his brain. The next news was that he had advancing Alzheimer's. I tried calling him in the hospital, but it was difficult to talk to him, he sounded exhausted. Once he also suddenly hung up and I called him again, and he seemed to have forgotten everything about the previous call already.

About 2 weeks later I get the news that he died.

I was NOT prepared to lose him this early due to my previous experiences. So the friend that helped me get into that trade school couldn't live to be there for my graduation only few months later.

After I finished that school with good grades, I was also not prepared for years of unemployment and slavery (working for certain companies only "for experiences"). I didn't know that no matter what I'd do, there would be a life of constant rejection and and denials ahead of me because my best is never good enough.

I hate having little to no control over my life. Meanwhile all these experiences fed my depression to the point that I'm actually becoming a useless part for society. For example, I can draw pictures, but I can't see myself drawing pictures 8-12 hours a day like the professionals do. I also get emotional breakdowns more often than a healthy person. I'm not stable enough anymore.

Yes, I'm seeking help, but if healing was a fast process, life would not be that hard to handle. I have over 20 years of bullshit to heal. I don't even know how old I'll be until I'm healed enough, or whether I even reach that age because some other bullshit can and probably will hit me. For example, cancer, or a car accident, maybe even murder. I have little to no control over what it's gonna be.

I just want a happy ending for once.

I'm just playing this by ear, myself. And likewise! Is a good, thought-provoking talk.

It is truly a terrible disease, killing a person on the inside long before their body dies and made worse in that the person living through it can sometimes notice that change, though they may no longer be capable of understanding it. I am both grateful for and do not envy the work of those that care for the elderly in those final years. I imagine it's not a healthy job for anyone with depression.

Oh no, that's horrible! It's bad enough when it hits somebody that has lived a long life already, but to have the future of a young otherwise-healthy person taken away is even worse!
I don't know if there is any preparing for things that hit that fast, but I can see how it would make your graduation bittersweet. I lost one of my childhood friends to liver failure, although the blow was somewhat softened by the fact that his family had moved away years before then. It was still a painful loss, especially when I learned that he'd been married just shortly before his sudden and unexpected death. Admittedly, he'd been living his life with a donated liver since he was a child (possibly more than one during his life?) but he'd been seemingly healthy and not especially near the point where another transplant would usually be needed. (roughly every seven-to-ten years, maybe? I forget the exact figure on transplanted livers)

Yeah, one of the reasons I've been unemployed for so long is that I didn't have the energy to keep putting myself out there after I was let go from my first (and so far only) job that I got right after schooling was done. I'm not sure what it is about applying for jobs in modern times that is so soul-crushing, but it sure is difficult. I don't even consider job-opening that list "Self-starter" among the desired traits anymore, because it feels like my self-starting function is broken!

My sister also struggles with that a great deal, likely partly from her experiences and partly from being on the autism spectrum. Changes, especially unexpected ones, and things happening outside her control have lead to her trying to exercise extreme control over what things she can control. Part of this is wanting to be aware of everything going on, what people are doing, and things like that. Definitely inherited our dad's paranoia issues.
My sister also suffers breakdowns of varying degrees fairly often, often feeling at war with her own mind. In some ways she's more stable than she was as a child, in others she's worse off.
I don't suffer in that way, but I still find myself wanting to do/be more and to support myself/my family more than I do. But I struggle with my own issues of being disorganized, forgetful, having an unstable sleep schedule which often means being awake at night and asleep during the day, and my poor state of fitness because I haven't pushed myself to exercise.

Oh, how I wish healing was a faster process! I've now dealt with clinical/chronic/severe depression for more than half my life and I'm still not sure if I'll ever get a handle on it.
With mental illness, I'm not sure there is such a thing as being completely healed/cured, or if it's more of a matter of getting it to the point that it has a minimal effect on our lives most of the time. After all, there really isn't such a thing as a 100% normal person, just those that hide any abnormalities of behavior well enough while out in public. As for being hit by some unexpected trouble in the future, that's true of anyone and everyone. I try not to dwell on how my life might end as that could easily prevent me from living my life and I already have enough problems with that as it is!

I'm not sure whether most happy endings exist in reality, as most of them are endings because the book or movie have come to an end. Sure, there's at least one I can imagine that could exist in reality, the happy ending of passing in your sleep while surrounded by friends and family. Much as I wish it were otherwise, happily-ever-after seems to only exist in fiction.
Which is not to say that happiness can't be achieved in reality, far from it! But it takes work to find it and to maintain it, work that is easier when shared with friends, family, or partner(s).

I want to get myself into a stable enough place that I can help others, but so far I've done a pretty poor job of getting to that point. But when you really boil it down to its essentials, we have to have some kind of hope for a better future if we are to continue existing.
It is often difficult, and is difficult in different ways/to different degrees for everyone, but I choose to keep trying, keep hoping, and keep living despite my setbacks and failures.
I hope that you will keep doing so as well, and more than that, I hope that you will find the peace and happiness that you need and desire.

Feel free to continue this conversation, call it enough for now, and/or talk with me about whatever in the future. I'll do my best to reply in a reasonable amount of time, provided I'm where I can access my computer daily at the time. ^-^

Oh shit, I forgot to mention; the friend I lost to Alzheimer's before my graduation wasn't so young, he was past his 60s actually! (And I think my grand-uncle was younger than that, maybe 40-50. They say he might have triggered the illness with a very unhealthy life style.)

It still hurt though because I knew him as a friend of the family growing up, and he never really showed signs of age-based weaknesses too.
Also, he was huge, like some sort of Hagrid. Once he was in vacation in Italy with his wife and brought back a photo of himself standing next to a Cinquecento, and I think the car barely reached his hip. xD
So yeah, you wouldn't think a person like that could be wiped away by Alzheimer's within 2 weeks. Then again, I hear men often get hit by things very sudden after they retire for some reason. But I don't know for sure why he got hit exactly.

Man, nurses and similar have such a hardcode job! And it's definitely nothing for persons with depression. Once I was test-working inside a senior home for a week, and I already knew it's nothing for me on day one. (I stayed out of politeness, I guess.) There are super depressing experiences in there to make. Examples:

- Elderly abandonded by family, literally left to die.
- Some elderly are so mentally broken, they hug you and punch you in the same 10 minutes, for no reason at all.
- Some elderly cannot poop by themself anymore, so have fun helping every few hours; the most awkward 5-10 minutes for the both of you.
- Random screaming and drama, day and night. Or elderly walking around and not knowing what they're doing or where they're going.

I also met an elderly woman in there which only spoke Italian, but nobody else spoke Italian, not even the nurses. Imagine the fucking loneliness of her. Imagine your family sending you to a place where you cannot communicate with others, and you stay there until you die of old age.

I don't know, I'm not fit for social jobs at all. You have to be reeeeally stable for this. (By the way, when I was a child, I actually wanted to work for the police because JUSTICE and FAIRNESS. But I quickly learned I'm not stable enough for things like witnessing crime scenes and other committed cruelties either. Especially shit like dealing with pedos. Too brutal topics for me.)

So yeah, there is indeed not really (or rarely) a happy ending when you look around and see how people live and die in reality.

Ah sorry, now I talked a lot again. But you can also call the conversation enough if you like. x)

Ah, so not as unexpected medically-speaking but that doesn't lessen the loss at all.
I'm reminded that I've often found people older than myself easier to get along with, though I'm not entirely sure why that is. Maybe I have the disposition of an 'old soul'?

I've met people like that, they seem to embody the phrase 'larger than life' and you almost expect them to live forever while knowing they can't.
I figure it happens after retirement due to at least a few things, like changes (usually decreases) in activity level, mental-activity (challenges to keep the mind fresh), and diet. I think there have been studies done on such things but I'm not familiar with any at the moment.

Definitely! Huge respect to those that can do such necessary yet stressful jobs.
Yeah, that sounds like a rough environment to spend any amount of time in.
That poor Italian lady! That's horribly sad.

Same. I'd prefer a job where I have little interaction with the public, just because you never know how people are going to treat you each day. Not that there can't be issues with coworkers, bosses, and all that.

There can be happiness in the world, but for sure there's a lot of suffering too.
I don't know if it could accurately be measured as to which is the stronger force.

No worries! We seem to be winding down naturally at this point anyhow.
It's been good talking with you! Should do so again some time. ^-^

Thank you for your comment, that means a lot! :)

Cool piece!

Thank you!

First, I absolutely love the picture. I have been wanting to do vent art myself for a while now, and seeing other’s helps in a way too. Fear of not being good enough stops me from trying to do my own, from spending a whole lot of time and energy on something I won’t be satisfied with, on something that won’t convey what I’m trying to let out. I know that is silly, that the catharsis of trying is what I should be aiming for, but it’s still hard to overcome your own barriers.

The words in your description match almost too well what my thoughts are as well. I feel like I wear this smiling mask all the time, and inside I feel so weak and fragile, stressed and strained and about to break under the pressure. That I’m lying by wearing this mask and hiding this demon inside me that I can’t fully control. Eventually, it’s hard to know exactly where one stops and one begins.

I’ve had a lot of similar issues with anxiety and depression and anger since I was young, but rather than focus on that, I’d like to share some alternate looks on it. The first is how I was trying to cope ever since I first ran out of the house from an argument with my parents. I sat beneath a copse of evergreens and stared out into a field and wondered why I couldn’t control my emotions the way I wanted to. I thought, surely there must be some part of me inside that is in control, that knows what the right answer is to say in arguments or times of stress, that can be totally objective. I thought of them as an inner angel at the time, and imagined myself in a void with them, someone to talk to who understood me better than I knew myself. It helped, but often I wouldn’t have the time or focus to think of this, “what would my internal angel do or say?” in times of crisis.

Eventually, when I joined the furry fandom and started wanting to get art, this internal angel concept was the basis for my main character, Elegance. I wanted to make someone not that I felt was me, but represented the best part of me inside that I wanted to strive to be. Pure, calm, maternal, with swirls representing the ocean and it’s fathomless depths. There was something very symbolic about the ocean, the calming sound of it’s waves, the endless horizon, it’s capacity for being dead still or full of terrible storms. I actually went by, “Ocean,” in high school to my friends.

All that aside, there is one point I wanted to make above all others today: I do not think we can see ourselves well, by ourselves. When you go to therapy, yes it helps that they are trained to help you cope, but I think being offered the objective view of the situation, of yourself, is very important. We think that, because we are the only ones privy to our thoughts, that we are the only ones who know what we truly are inside behind all the barriers, but I don’t think that’s true, and in fact the opposite might be closer. Being stuck inside our own heads puts us too close to make a good judgement, and by expanding our view to encompass that of those who care about us, we get a better look at who we really are.

Of course, there lies the problem of not always having people around us who understand or care. Not everyone has lovers or best friends or even people to chat with, whether introverted, shunned, or any other combination of myriad issues. Some people can’t afford therapy, or can’t find therapists or psychologists who are right for them and want to help them the way they need to be. I too got tired of paying exorbitant fees for medication I thought slowly stopped helping as much, and psychologists who didn’t care beyond getting my money. For a decade really I was living life without a real reason to go on living, spending every day trying to distract myself from the horror of existential dread, thinking I will certainly die alone.

Then, in my darkest hour, I met someone who could see me better than I could see myself. Who showed me I have more strength than I ever knew I possibly could. Maybe it’s something of a self-fulfilling prophecy that when someone believes in you, you gain the courage to try harder than before. Or maybe I’m being sappy. Regardless, I think that finding others who can help show you things about yourself you miss or undervalue is really important.

As Wolfian said, we can only see you through the scope of what you show us online right now, and even then I think you are very creative with a deep emotional style I haven’t seen elsewhere. I wish I could offer better insight or advice really. Though if you need a friend, or would want someone to vent or chat with, my discord is Aimlesswaves #2463

<3

Go for it, create all the vent arts! :) And be patient with yourself. For example, this piece here took much longer than I planned. I wanted to finish it last month or so. And then I went to work on it only step by step instead of finishing it in one go.

Maybe it also helps to listen to new music, or a movie you enjoy in the background while you draw. I don't know. It's what I sometimes do.

"I feel like I wear this smiling mask all the time, and inside I feel so weak and fragile, stressed and strained and about to break under the pressure."
Same. I also have this urge to make jokes and entertain people I meet in real life. Switching between being the funny guy and the quiet friendly kid. I even make jokes and smile when I'm feeling terrible inside. I also make jokes about my very unfunny past, to cope, I guess. Is that strength or cowardice? Is that my mask maybe?

Using OCs for positive therapy like that sounds good. That's lovely to hear it could help you a bit! :)

I'm doing cognitive behavioral therapy since over a year. We're doing a good lot of objective view of situations and reflections. I also try to train my awareness over my own thoughts (especially how I think of myself). The therapy specializes in noticing negative patterns in your thoughts and behaviors and changing them to something positive. Originally, I went there because I was looking for help to stop my self-harming addiction, but I ended up learning more things about myself. It's interesting.

But yeah, money is a shit problem. :( I'm extremely lucky to live in Switzerland where health insurances make things like that much easier compared to other countries. Even poor people here (for example, unemployed) can get help somewhere. Though it is stressful paperwork and policies and whatnot, at least you can still get the basic therapies.

All the more important to have good friends when it's difficult to get therapy in your country. Me, I need both therapy and friends, haha. Right now it's very difficult because my best friend moved to a different state to her new boyfriend, and it's hard to reach her, even via phone call. I see her maybe once in 2 months. We've known each other since 8 years, maybe it's a sign I should finally move on and make new friends or something. I don't know. Shit hurts.

Nobody can be identified correctly to the core, in order to do that you have to kill the other, either by killing the concept of "other" (which is bad in itself because it means you do not exist anymore and have become an unthinking part of somebody else) or because you had to kill the "other" and make it into something past that can (eventually) be fully analyzed and preventing the growth of "the other".

The moment people try and define something they are trapping that "something" in such a way that time can be devoted to identify it.

And in order to do that you have to prevent change and growth, or you will have more stuff to analyze and that means you will never be done.

So you either kill the stuff you have to analyze or you will always have an incomplete map of what you need to analyze or you devote your entire life to understanding one specific bit of something in what you wish to analyze.

So... uhm... either you like gazing at your bellybutton to understand the bellybottonnes of it, and i'd leave that to the experts who know how to do that... or you live, you grow, you move and you change.

That breaks molds people have put you in, and (normally) that is a good thing. If you do not break the molds that people prepared of you it means you are either being purposefully stunted, like a bonsai that somebody is... uh... "grooming to perfection" (and there is a very good reason why that is a penal crime akin to sexual abuse) or ... you know...

...you be you. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I can imagine this scenario >:D

This one is so gorgeous! Love the composition

Thank you so much! <3

Reminds me of Picasso a lot...

-I got meself an exoskeleton!
-It's just a carcass.
-Exoskeleton!
-Em... just a skele-..
-I'm an aphotic ocean cyborg moray hero!!!

(no pun intended)