pumpkins that me and my mom carved yesterday morning and my last attempt at drawing;
don:t really mean to be as upset as i am, but i get upset at a hair trigger, and i am upset; partially i just get bothered by the idea that people could just say something plainly/bluntly instead of making me work at figuring out something that both of us know, but also i don:t like relationships being built with me over the idea of my faith--it is hard for me to imagine it ever being sincere and not either out of some novelty, or almost sometimes out of a malignant desire in the other to become a type-of religious grooming victim;
faith to me came from something, somewhere, like a message that clung to my heart in such an ecstasy that i can:t forget it and can:t stop warping myself around--less-so because of some special quality i think i have, more-so because i had a joyous experience and am now its scar tissue; there-in is the frustration: as a person, not as scar-tissue, i really enjoy food and Gilmore Girls and reading and shmups and Ragnarok Online and FFXI and Stephen King and that sandwich shop over in Mt Dora and Boogiepop and blah-blah-blah--but it:s never those parts of me that cause want for connect but the quirk (because outside that quirk i:m simple; i think of Lamentations and the constant "vanity of vanities" in the verses);
i think of Lamentations and imagine the depressed author writing about how he (O Lord!) is so simple as to whine online and get mad over everything.
titsay
discoholicmusic
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
jbbartram-illu
pixelskylines
baratheonpilled
