Gaywi

Side/art blog for Aftersingers

[da-artist-person-13-deactivated]

Anyone who sees this, please share.

TW: Suicide mentions

So, a friend of mine went through some stuff today and is contemplating suicide. So I made a deal with them.

Please share in any way you can. I'm not sure what I could ever do without this person.

[mari13606]

Please please please please please please please. If this is the only post of mine you reblog ever I am BEGGING you please reblog this.

[orokayagi]

REBLOG THIS KEEP GOING DONT LET THE FLAME DIE OUT

[aftersingersart]

Updates on my negan boi uwu

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Oil pastel stuff

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My incubus boi whose nickname is Incy but he has an actual name and it’s Nahi.

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done for my part of an art trade uwu

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Drew a good friend of mine uwu

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“She’s the girl all the bad guys want.” My sweet summer child Paigel. She’s the high school sweetheart you dreamed of last night <3

[aftersingersart]

Mateo, me baby boi.

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It’s me spideyboi petey ;w;

[aftersingersart]

Oh sorry, I was busy hating myself.

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[aftersingersart]

It’s . . .  Ricky? Painted and with hair?

[kinglieste-moved-deactivated201]

i am incredibly tired of my editing application crashing so take this as it is lol

[spudinacup]

I don’t reblog things often…

But when I do..

[aftersingersart]

I Don’t Care Anymore

I don’t care anymore. I don’t have the nerves to care about anything anymore. I’ve totally lost the ability to care at all. In a direct, straightforward matter, I just simply don’t care any longer. My patience is shot. It might be on the account that there’s a knife lodged into my stomach, but I think I died a long time ago. True, my body is still alive and well--maybe not in this exact moment--but my conscious disappeared quite some time back. Oh, how the mighty fall. I only hope the rest don’t come with me. They’re strong, I know. They can get by without me. They’ll figure it out on their own. They don’t need me near as much as they’d like to think. I say this, but isn’t it me who depends on them? Isn’t it me, the one thinking that? I’m the one who needs them, aren’t I? Maybe it’s better this way, with me gone. If you ask me, two’s a whole lot lonelier than one. I chuckle at that bit, my mind wandering to her; to her and all the lovely things about her. I don’t know how she ended up with me. I was so grateful for her, every day of my life. Even as I lie here now, face down in the snow, she’s all that’s on my mind. Beautiful images of her flash through my head and I can’t help but smile, despite all this pain. She had a way of doing that to me. God, I love her, so fucking much. She makes my heart swell like this, completely undeterred by the last breaths huffing out from my chest and through my mouth. I fell for her hard and she caught me. Shit, this hurts. I suppose I should probably take this damned knife out, but I can’t will myself to move. The cold numbs my body yet I still feel it all. With a grunt, I twist myself over and move my arm to rest my hand on top of my stomach. My hand creeps its way to the knife, fingers curling around the rigid handle. Haha, this is going to be fun. Maybe I should just leave it there. I’m going to bleed out either way. I think about the probability and realize how unlikely that is. I’m just making up excuses. I wish I would just bleed out, though. I’ve been around too damn long. Maybe I had my guard down, maybe I wasn’t paying attention, but I got myself in one big pickle here. My stomach isn’t the only thing that hurts right now. My chest is pounding. It feels like I just got a big, heavy weight thrust at me and I can’t pick it up, so there it rests, weighing me down. Like the kind of weight big guys lug around trying to prove something to someone who ain’t even watching. Except this weight can’t be seen. And nobody’s here to see me carrying this bullshit, just like those big guys. Fuck me. I’m so out of it I’m getting totally off track. Am I bleeding? God, I hate blood. I’ve seen too much of it. Seen it too many times on the outside of too many people I knew.  You know, everything’s a joke until it’s not funny anymore. Until it’s all passed and it leaves you going, “what’s wrong with us?” Which, by the way, there are lots of things wrong with lots of people. Lots of things wrong with me. And I’m being left here to think about it all. By myself, alone, in this freezing snow and bitter weather. If I don’t die from this wound getting infected, I’ll probably get frostbite and die from some sort of disease. I’d say the person should’ve just shot me dead, but I’m glad they didn't. I can reflect on everything I’ve done wrong and all the people I’ve fucked over this way. Now I’m getting fucked over, and that’s the way it should be. I deserve this shit. With one single yank, one rough pull, the knife is out and I just allow myself to lay there, the knife’s handle nice and firm in my hand like I’m holding hers.

[aftersingersart]

Maybe it was me who was fuckin’ up ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[aftersingersart]

More Ed, Edd n Eddy. Probably more coming. Yeah, I’m actual trash.

[aftersingersart]

Finished it all the way Wowee, I lined and colored something in a single drawing?? Not gonna lie, my hand really hurts. I haven’t lined and colored something like this with this much stuff since 6th grade lmao. There’s a reason I don’t do it. The ink smeared a bit in some places here and there, but otherwise, I’m very happy with it. Also, Edd is such a precious little boy gosh I love him so much. Excuse the camera quality please, I suck at taking pictures of my traditional drawings lmao. Horrible lighting (yes, let’s blame it on the lighting).