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lucidloving · 1 month

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I learned how to be quiet about pain when I was very young. I learned how to fold in on myself like laundry, to take up less space in the cupboard. I learned how to keep the peace around me by sweeping the dirt under my own rug.

I have been taught that expressing my less favourable emotions is just complaining—something weak people do when they're too incompetent to solve their own problems.

Incompetent. Incompetent. This word is very important to me. Incompetent is the word I am always running from. To run from incompetency means to run from feeling dejected, feeling lost, feeling hurt. To run from incompetency is to run towards goodness. To run towards a me who knows all the answers and shoulders all the burdens and shrugs off all the pain.

Some days I am not very good at this race I am running. Days when the past lurches forward to bite my ankles, or days when the future looks back to scorn my present.

On these days I am weak. The poise slips. It's all too easy to cry a little and vent my fears. I forget that I am supposed to be keeping all of this shut away where no one else can see. I forget that I am not supposed to be dragged down by these feelings in the first place.

Today I feigned nonchalance and I feigned it well. No one noticed that I was hurt by the thing that happened, and sitting alone in all my hurt, I was bitterly gratified. I had fulfilled the proper narrative of an animal who is injured and returns to its cave to lick its wounds only in private.

But there is a desperation for the hidden pain to be noticed. This is the Achilles' Heel of the whole stealth operation; it threatens the little play I have constructed in which I suffer alone and inconvenience no one and am all the stronger for it.

Today I stood upright to talk to my mother and doubled over in pain the moment she left the room. It is satisfying, knowing I did the valiant and honourable thing of keeping the damn pain to myself. It is infuriating, the way my eyes flickered to the door in the dark and private hope that she would come back in and witness me while I was down.

I want to be strong and hide all the hard things away. I want someone to see my efforts to hide all the hard things away and realise I'm strong. I want to bring to life this character I have created who suffers without complaint and is loved when the truth is revealed. Who suffers well.

This is the person who stores up agony to a breaking point, to justify the ultimate snapping of composure. This is the person who wants to be depended on relentlessly and one-sidedly, so that someone someday might notice the unfairness of it all. This is the person who virtuously and righteously take all the hits without a sound, so that when they finally, inevitably break, their pain will come to light all at once and inspire awe and guilt in equal measure.

Who am I, really? Is it terrible to want to play this character? Perhaps some old wound craves acknowledgement and understanding and doesn't know how else to ask for it except by hiding until it festers.

Strength. Competency. Resilience. Dependability. Independence. They have all become synonyms in my black and white dictionary. They have all become straws for the drowning man.

I self-impose silence. I take pleasure in denial and secrecy. I take pride in successfully keeping a problem to myself.

Pride. That's another important word. I think I have too much of it, although it pains me when others point it out. Pride implies I think highly of myself, which is something a good person should never do. Pride is so audaciously self-absorbed, so high-and-mighty, so filthy with ego. There's probably a lot of it in this damn thing I've written.

Pride is the other thing that keeps my mouth shut. The thing that says I should be austere, untouchable, immovable. Pride is the thing that says look here, you don't have a lot going for you so you better keep this mask on right if you want to be good. If you want to be admired.

These terrible things keep me safe. I can't let go of that stupidly noble character or that cowardly pride. I need them to shield me from the reality that I am emotional, not all that put together, and honestly hopeless most of the time.

I need to have something worth liking about myself. I need to have a grit that makes me undeniably good. I need to have a strength that goes unsung, that lies in wait of discovery.

What an exhausting way to live. But it's the only way I know.

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humapkehaikaun · 5 months

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I take it personal when innocent live is lost, I am hurt because as society we failed again to tell him, that it's okay to do whatever you want, whatever you want to be. If you can't spread love please don't spread hate.

To all those people who trolled him, I hope this haunt you forever, who the hell are you to tell others how to live, how to be a boy or a girl. To all those I want to say just try to be a "Better Human First" please be kind. He always says no matter what people say about you please don't give up, do whatever you like, whatever you want, is mentally tortured, bullied and abused by the youth of social media users. He had a supportive mother, but imagine how much this child was going through that her support wasn't enough for him to live. hope that this sweet innocent boy rest in peace. Just keep scrolling if you don't like.

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torusdove · 3 months

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-ˋˏ [ 03 : 31am ] — Satoru Gojo.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There is something so sweet about getting accustomed to living on your own, with the person you love dearly.

If you had still been living with your mother, she probably would've been scolding the two of you as of right now.

The kitchen was a mess, flour coating all of the surfaces and even sticking with little to no effort against the tiles. You couldn't help the laughter erupt from your lungs after taking a peek at him: egg yolk stains on his black shirt, flour lightening his hair and the stripe of fresh, melted chocolate adorning his cheek.

You felt youthful again, scared to get caught by your parents that followed with a lecture.

But there were no parents, no lectures. In fact, it was just the two of you, in your shared house, in your very own kitchen that you didn't mind messing up once in a while.

Not even at three in the morning.

#I have a feeling Satoru would get these random bursts of energies some nights and would feel no shame in waking you up to try a new #recipe. nd you don't mind it in the slightest until you find out it wasn't a real recipe.. but one from his dream of last night.#nonetheless you can't help but amuse him and love him in the softest way known to mankind..#SOBSOBSOBSOB I LOVE SATORU SO MUCH #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jujutsu gojo #-ˋˏ The last drops of ink.

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fuckingwhateverdude · 11 months

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EMBARRASSMENT

#who knows what it all means #my writing #my writing tag #poetry #original poem #spilled ink #vent writing #mental illness #self hatred #self hate #shame #on shame

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unlicensed · 3 months

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midwinter greetings for @trashicalgirl !!!!!

#blaze the cat #sonic the hedgehog #midwinter because i was late for christmas. LOL.#sonaze #my art #traditional art with watercolors and ink #damn shame i hadn't drawn blaze before now everyone get up and draw blaze !!!

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anewp0tat0 · 1 year

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I was inspired by something again

#this week hasn't been so great(some good some~ bad)but my brain always makes time for doods. dunno if ill get to make more this month tho #my traditional inking is still pretty rusty which is a shame cause I admire that skill strongly in other people so I hope I can #pick it back up #here though I did shade and kinda edit in digital cause I don't trust myself so much yet and don't wanna ruin it #at this point idk what's better for me. practice drawing bigger so I can get more detail in or stay small and manage the shading better #I'll... try something. eventually #gonna get a lil busy tho #kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji fanart #fanart #traditional art #inking #digital art #ciel phantomhive #elizabeth midford #edward midford #o!ciel #cheslock(mentioned)#oh I guess this is ship art. well would ya look at that #modern!au

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soaked-ghost · 3 months

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hahaha what if I made an alphys au oc and made her ink's friend lol. actually that's a lie there is no what if I just did that

#made her because I got genuinely pissed off that ink never interacted with anyone other than himself lol #but now she had a whole backstory and stuff and what they have means a whole lot to me #listen to me. listen to me. If there's someone that ink fits perfectly with it's alphys because of how opposite they are-#-but also have way more in common.#also just. just. guy that never feels shame with girl that only knows shame.#art guy with science girl.#guy that knows the world around him is fiction with girl that actually interacts with fiction like anime and games the same way he-#-interacts with the world around him.#also they both think they're terrible people and have depression and they both decide to avoid their problems instead of facing them.#ect. ect.#could go on and on honestly I have a LOT thought out about these two #ink sans #alphys au #undertale oc #utmv #art #myart

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thegirlhoodtheory · 4 months

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mall rats, 1/9/24

#poetry #original poetry #spilled ink #writing #words #writeblr #poems #yearn for childhood without shaming children challenge!!!! impossible!!!!!!!!!!!!!#grown women saying this too... laughable really #theories.txt

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capn-twitchery · 4 months

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totally forgot twitch has black hair and nobody is gonna be able to see all of the inking i did but i liked the inks so here is an uncoloured sneaky peek (no face yet. sorry)

#face later. partially #using an ask as an excuse to show it hehehe >:3c #i'm not actually sure i like the inks on the face as much as the sketch which is a goddamn shame bc they took forever!!!!! but oh well #wips #twitchery

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then-be-a-warrior · 1 year

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Friendly Reminder:

Being in the scroll is a form of Hell, right?

So if we count from the moment Ink MK showed up to when Wukong appeared, MK lasted less than 15 minutes in Hell before he broke.