mars-doesnt-exist

[mars-doesnt-exist]

on my hands and knees begging my followers to DM me for my new account

[mars-doesnt-exist]

hi I'm making a new account so I can avoid harassment from this dude who has been stalking me for over 2 years so DM me if you are a Devoted Follower Or Mutual and I will send it to you

[mars-doesnt-exist]

i think what ive realized that blue check marks or big gallery openings or long, arduous articles in pretentious art journals just dont define good or meaningful art. like not to be cheesy but the way we define good art in society rn is so stupid. what does a painting in a gallery ever hold to a sloppy still life my friend from highschool made? what is high fashion compared to a sweater your mother knitted you ? what is a produced single to singing with your friends with an out of tune guitar? like yeah obviously its valuable in some way but i think we need to focus more on art from our lives. from our families and friends and communities and then art will become accessible and understandable and we can like you know sustain ourselves with something that is vital to human existence tbh

#reblog

[mars-doesnt-exist]

does anybody have that cat poem, you know the one. not mary oliver's poem. the one about a cat growing up with you like brothers but him still being small whereas you've grown tall. i need a good cry

#poetry #image id

[mars-doesnt-exist]

#derealism and Other Things That Ruined My Life: An Autobiography by mars-doesnt-exist

[mars-doesnt-exist]

Do you ever suddenly realize how utterly unlovable you are and just feel the urge to go hiding from everyone and just rot away?

[mars-doesnt-exist]

i don't want to talk about the violence i don't want to talk about the shape of the bruise i don't want to talk about how it sounded or what it felt like or how afterward, for hours, i had three sharp words banging around in my head in a cartwheeling spike - i just want to say it was something that hurt and to hear back i'm sorry it hurt you, do you need help feeling better? i just want to lie down without being asked to lie open and show where the hurt came from and to give birth again to the shadow memory, watch it ooze again across the floor to dance in the wake of my feet.

i do not want to argue with strangers on the internet who have no stake in the matter, telling me that kind of violence is often overstated. i do not want to argue. i do not want to keep getting older with this painted under my chubby bicep and splashed down my side. i do not want to hear i am playing the victim when i am the victim. i do not want to be a survivor, i just want a life in a green patch without having to endlessly sublimate the glass i have chewed, over and over, pouring sand out of my mouth into the wrong hands - i just want to be happy on sunday.

i do not want to talk about the violence and why the bell of my body is always hollow! i know it is hollow. please stop asking about it. i have spent so many hours trying to explain how it fell apart. i need to rest now. i need to take my meds now. i need to wake up and be someone who can have the quiet back without flinching in response. i know you don't believe it happened that way, why would you? you are someone looking for the clever ending; where you somehow win my narrative by showing me i am not allowed to be hurt by what happened. and i am just a person. i have already lost everything.

[mars-doesnt-exist]

i hated - hated - my 7th grade english teacher, but he did say something that has stuck with me this whole time: the actual mark of maturity in someone is whether they take responsibility.

over time, this has become something i find to apply to too-many things. this weighty, complicated thing - responsible. almost direct from the latin respondere - the verb for "to answer to".

taking responsibility is not just "being in control of". it also means being gentle. being able to apologize. being able to accept fault. to notice your own actions and change them to be better. it is not just saying "ah fuck i dropped the plate," it is saying "okay, i'll go get the broom."

at 16, when her parents tell her i put a roof over your head, she spends that night curled in my lap, sobbing, trying to articulate something too-heavy-for-words - that they think responsibility is just about obligation; that she is bound to them because they are responsible for her. that she feels, over and over, responsible for their emotions. that she spends hours cartwheeling over eggshells, feeling the drip of their expectations slowly sushing down her body.

according to my mom, responsibility and privilege are partners. this is probably true. a car (privilege) is a weapon if used (responsibility) incorrectly. my dog is my responsibility, and he brings me the privilege of hours spent in sunshine. there are, though, a lot of times people are given one without the other - the privilege, and no responsibility for their actions. the responsibility, and nothing but hours of obligation, over-and-over. i have also learned: there is a difference between fault and responsibility. this will be important for you at some point, if you are watching.

at 21, when i am begging him again to just listen, i am asking him to take responsibility for the span of our relationship. for the ways he has shoved thorns into every part of my body. i come across as needy, because it is my job to be responsible for the relationship - somehow, he has escaped that. it is always my job to ask for help. to beg for him to just put in any-ounce-of-more.

how easily responsibility becomes assumed. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to take care of dinner. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to get groceries, to clean the house, to mealplan, to do laundry. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to wear smart clothing. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to blend in with the rest of society.

at 25, it is happening again. this is a different man in a different city, and the responsibility is one that is demanded of me. he tells me he will skip off the world and into the darkness if i break his heart, no matter how much he breaks mine. i am back to begging - get help, get better, i cannot lift you if you do not try to stand with me. i am also responsible for myself - and then, suddenly, responsible for the entire life of somebody. i remember sitting there asking him - when will it be your turn to do the carrying? and the way he wrinkled his nose at me. i would laugh-cry: i feel like i'm your mother and he would start gagging. nothing would change. still running after him, making sure he washed his clothes and took care of himself and made those appointments and did anything. my own health was suffering.

a lot of discussion about consequence is really a discussion of responsibility. i am an internet poet. i made a little hellsite my unfortunately-unpaid home. i believe, in my heart of hearts - make what you want, but be responsible for it. whenever we make things, we are bound to them, end of story. this is a real-life thing. watch who in your life hates having responsibility. watch the way they expect other people to have responsibility. this sense they have: that responsibility is punishment, is unfair to unload on them. that someone else should do the carrying.

i am 26 at the start of 2020. we all know what happens then. the average person is asked to take responsibility. for many, this is second-nature. simple. occasionally annoying, but eventually habitual. for many others, though, this is their great and honest reckoning. they misunderstand civil liberty to mean - a land where everything, always, is just-about-me. on a personal level, when i am not absolutely livid about this population, i am sort-of sad for them. one of the good things about responsibility is that it builds community. each of these people, one at a time, has been making the same statement: i am alone in this world. i am blisteringly, horribly lonely.

i have noticed, over time - the way that responsibility is borne. how careful i have to be as a queer cuban writer. how careful some asshole on twitter is-not-careful-at-all. knowing that if i am too-loud. abrasive, unflattering: i could make my whole community responsible for my behavior. that people would read my work and say - see! this is why there aren't that many of these types of writers. that others can make bigger, bolder mistakes - but it will just be their mistake to make; their-singular-responsibility. that what i am "careful" about is making my posts well-researched, thought-out, accessible, funny. that what others are rabidly angry about being careful about - that they would suddenly become responsible for bigotry. this horrible sense: you have no idea what it means to be forced to bear this weight, and you find it terrifying.

i have been responsible for a long time. laughing, i tell my therapist eldest daughter, middle child syndrome. i was a latchkey kid. i was the first one home and had to be sure i got the fire lit or there wasn't heat. written like that, it sounds like something from charles dickens: alone, shivering in a house that isn't home, feeding tinder to the back of the wood stove. i have been a delight to have in class. i was always charmingly responsible. i have had-to-be. there was no other option.

burnout is high, i'm told. over and over, the media paints people like me as being responsible for how we are treated. they will say it's not your fault, but we all know they think it is my responsibility. people are violent to me; it is my responsibility to be a more properly-trained minority. my boss is cruel; it's my responsibility to find a new job or just go hungry. it is not the responsibility of others to help me figure out my medical debt, i should try asking more questions at the pharmacy. it is not the responsibility of public schools to help students get an education - it is the responsibility of 17-year-olds to sign into a lifetime of debt. it is not the responsibility of the government to protect my right to choose; it's my responsibility to simply not get into any situation that might require me having an opinion. it's satisfying to watch the general, quiet strike of minimum-wage workers: the way others, confused, are demanding the same question - why aren't other people taking responsibility for the things i don't want to do myself?

the other day, i saw a post from someone who hurt me. it was sort of embarrassingly on-the-nose. he's kissing someone new now (god protect her). under the two of them smiling, the caption reads: thank you to this responsible, beautiful queen for constantly taking care of me.

now be honest. answer the following. fill in the blanks. bring your truth to your throat and keep her. 1. in general, it is normal for a [ ] to have more responsibility than a [ ]. 2. you are responsible for [ ]. 3. when you tell [ ] to take responsibility, they will say [ ]. 4. in your life, it is normal for [ ] to take responsibility. 5. when did that start? 6. and how is it going?

[mars-doesnt-exist]

thoughts on endos?

I think tulpas are real and if someone says they're a system I'm going to believe them but I'm traumatized and don't relate so I get annoyed seeing endo stuff when I'm trying to look at DID things because like... I'm fine with it but bestie I am a system because I went thru mind breaking trauma we are not the same. I don't interact with endo posts or care about discourse because I'm not endo so

People who use the word "parts" or the "they're actually all just me!!11!1one1!1" people make me physically cringe into another dimension though

[mars-doesnt-exist]

Nostalgia is so bittersweet for me. I have an old video game that makes me feel warm inside but I know it was because I spent so long fooling around in it never bothering to complete it because it was an escape. All the old things I like were escapes. All the books I like were "bullied/neglected and neurodivergent coded kid learns they are special in some way and gets whisked off into a magical fantasy land". Sometimes I unexpectedly encounter nostalgia and it triggers me because hurts. My toys weren't meant to be played with alone but I made them that way. It was only "simpler" back then in that I didn't understand how bad it really was. I replaced dull ignorance with painful knowing. Now I know what's wrong with me and what I can work on but also what's just going to be broken the rest of my life. I'm not sure if it's better or not. But sometimes I wish I remembered everything even if it hurt just because I want to understand why I'm so broken. I feel like I have to justify it to myself.

#nostalgia #writing #cptsd #pstd #trauma #childhood trauma #recovery

[mars-doesnt-exist]

i looked at websites about lucid dreaming online a few times. they say how if you feel like you're dreaming you definitely are. but i'm constantly counting the fingers on my hands and checking my breath to see if i'm real as if i'm going to discover i'm a fake human and crumble into dust someday. but i feel sick to my stomach and i don't think my dreams would hurt this much. this nothingness is going to kill me one day but it's all i've ever known. my fear of change is going to be the one to bring my head to the queen for a bounty and she will say "if a dream is slayed in the forest before it reaches anyone does it even matter." and i guess not. people keep offering to pour my jar of nothing full which i want until they start actually pouring and i slam it shut. i guess i just want to stay sick. "then we can't help you", they said. "since you clearly don't want to help yourself."

#writing #poetry #poem #writeblr #writers on tumblr #vent tag #vent #dpdr #derealization #depersonalization #lucid dreaming

[mars-doesnt-exist]

i wish i could reach out and hold you and nothing hurts as much. and i know the line has been repeated in poetic and different ways and there is nothing left to say. but i let myself hurt over you. i split my chest in half to give you my heart because i had nothing else to give. what im saying is i wouldn't take it back. i want to sob for you and hurt for you and grieve for you. sob for everything that hurt you into the way you are. how they cut at you until you no longer believed in love. i know you're tired so let's do nothing but breathe together until our hearts become one. what im saying is that the earth will stop for no one but i will hold you and shut your eyes and pretend it did for us.

#writing #poetry #vent #vent tag #writeblr #original poem #my poem #poem #sunny #/headmate tag

[mars-doesnt-exist]

if y'all want traumacore and insane textposts that make you wonder abt my mental health i am moving those to @catboy-bpd and making this a weird aesthetic blog bc i made this when i knew nothing abt tumblr and i feel weird liking normal stuff and sending them here if they click on my profile lol

[mars-doesnt-exist]

if y'all want traumacore and insane textposts that make you wonder abt my mental health i am moving those to @catboy-bpd and making this a weird aesthetic blog bc i made this when i knew nothing abt tumblr and i feel weird liking normal stuff and sending them here if they click on my profile lol

[mars-doesnt-exist]

if y'all want traumacore and insane textposts that make you wonder abt my mental health i am moving those to @catboy-bpd and making this a weird aesthetic blog bc i made this when i knew nothing abt tumblr and i feel weird liking normal stuff and sending them here if they click on my profile lol

[mars-doesnt-exist]

if y'all want traumacore and insane textposts that make you wonder abt my mental health i am moving those to @catboy-bpd and making this a weird aesthetic blog bc i made this when i knew nothing abt tumblr and i feel weird liking normal stuff and sending them here if they click on my profile lol, I'll probably keep using this for writing and art?

[mars-doesnt-exist]