I decided I'm going to start putting some of my sketches online, otherwise they would just rot away in my journal.

Collecting Lps and having the most harshest scars out of my friend group.

Dunno if I'm allowed to vent here, so brief story. I feel so undetermined with my interests compared to my friends. That the only thing I "win" at is bodily destruction and collecting littlest pet shops. They collect fairies and mlp, and also have their own struggles with self harm( bitchy ik)

I don't want them to be diminished just so I can feel better. Ultimately, they are right when I share these feelings in a small way to just do it, and get invested. My investments are so different to theirs, and theirs are shared. So it's hard to feel like im valued or seen as inspiring as they are to me.

Also any classic lps fans will see the finger at the top dropping down tears for the lps since that was pretty important back in the good old lps yt series.

Purtroppo tutti i miei oc hanno avuto una adolescenza difficile:(

Trying not to do anything irrational to myself.

theyve been loud tonight

TW EDAnorexia protects me from the disgusting flesh and intestines and pain of all that horrific stuff while I shrink into a powerful, beautiful, FREE butterfly during the slow and painful transformation in the cocoon.

Cerulean butterfly, any of you OG pro anas? ... I should be too old for this

Places where I lost things

Motel in the corner of the valley

I was awake and sleepless you had ample opportunity to take advantage. I was all too aware.

You'd come out of the Pen for doing god knows what. Out of money and out of options till the next business day. All I knew is I wanted a roof over my head. So I bargained with my safety. 4her. For me.

Dignity who. My safety was gone.

The airport in Taiwan

My book. I annotated it to tears. I talked to myself the whole flight to Penghu. Steadying myself. Someone had died again and I was in a different country with no one watching out for me. But I had a book. The one thing I asked for that year. I felt understood. I saw my growth in the same dashes and squiggle's id seen in my books back home when I was surely smaller than this. (abuse era)

It was my comfort object.

by the time I opened myeyes; my book was gone.

I lost a book.

The empty apartment in the bay

You broke my heart right there. First heartbreak-still there were many to come.

No more fight to give for us, for me, and you wanted me to know it too

Sweater atop my cold body. Door slammed. Window remained unshut.

My faith was gone.

Florida starter home

Behind a bed I left the necklace I'd asked my parent for. It was gone.

And I was too troubled to care. This was the first of many trips you were allowed to take me on despite temporary restraining order. Despite losing the right to be near me. Despite the fear in my eyes.

My routine was gone.

The Room on the Second story

All I wanted after the smoke cleared, was my fucking stuffed animal. Alot of my books my clothes everything under the sun got taken but I asked for the one thing and it was denied. Smoke can live inside things like that. It wasn't even close to the flames. On the other side of the property. The faint baby pink thing with a friendly face was gone.

Another bit of my comfort was gone.

Hotel fkn California

I lost the privilege to not fall under that statistic.

There I was. Naive and small and trying to figure out how to leave without a phone or wallet. And there he was. Pulling my hair, Doing the act. Too tired to keep it up for too long. Legitametly. It lasted less than 5 mins... about there. While he slept off his liquor. I adapted to the new reality that I was a victim of a new type of reportable offense I had yet to experience and for the life of me, I couldn't find my mind. I couldn't find where my thoughts were.

I lost my head. (and my good name)

RIP Simone DeBeauvoir you would've liked modern society more than the 1950s

Drawn while reading The Second Sex by Simone DeBeauvoir, which is about women's inferior place in society since the dawn of time pretty much and what, if anything, we can do about it.

Usually I try to leave my drawings up to interpretation and hope people will get it right or get something good / helpful to them out of it, but this one is very abstract so

men are like fish. sperm. free to swim around in the ether of the world. no one necessarily drawn to them and trying to penetrate them. this frees them. they get to go where they want and be their own person, as represented by the different colors of each fish.

on the other hand a female is a glob, stuck in place, defined by her genitals, hence i tried to make it look like she's in a vagina, and the outer edge is the boobs thighs and feet (im dating a foot fetishist trans woman). and a drooling mouth cuz i hate how we just keep eating and let ourselves be in these fat gross sexualized bodies (my past of anorexia and bulimia). inside the female, who the fish (men) only see for her sexual parts (boobs and vagina etc), there is an actual human, stripped of fat and disgusting flesh and genitals etc. she is skin and bones (representing how, in anorexia, men stop being attracted to you and you get to uhh BE AN ACTUAL PERSON FOR THE FIRST N LAST TIME IN MY LIFE). and so as i sit, stuck in place, as the disgusting glob i am, and all the men swim around me, pursuing their identities, life, thoughts, abilities, and ambitions, i feel i am in stasis, waiting for when i escape my disgusting body by becoming anorexic again, so i can swim free like them. until then, no one will ever see me as anything more than this.

The red text is what I wish I could say / do and the gray text is of my abuser

I'm not sure if this is a appropriate community to post it in, I just wanted to share what I made last night

Be gentle, I'm new to drawing

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The Japanese text says "die silently"

feeling weighed down and suffocated by how im just a vagina to you hahaha

Today's little doodle

on october 5th, my grandma died. this was written about seeing my family (mom and sister) react to the news. for me, i didn’t feel or cry much about the news itself, but i felt so sad seeing my families reactions, especially my moms and grandpas (i didn’t write about his reaction, but it hurt so much seeing him like that.) i’ve never seen my family that devastated in my life.

i love my grandma, however we were prepared for her death so that’s probably why the news didn’t affect me as much. i did end up crying a little afterwards, though.

In that year, I've done so much self growth even strangers are proud of me. I still don't like myself very much, I still hurt myself sometimes but this version of me has me very curious to what sort of person I'll be in another year from now.