for shame for shame for shame

he/him - 30 - art blog forcing myself to post imperfect shit or I won't get back to where I was before I got sick

[burgerscience]

Hey.

Welcome.

This is a sideblog for art.

Art is under #burgersart

Writing is under #burgerswriting

Anything under "#warming up the pattys" is unedited warmups.

Personal posts are under #burgerscience logistics

There used to be overexplanations and shame and excuses here. I might post things. I might be too sick to make anything. I might be too shy to share. Who cares, this is where I'm gonna put it so it doesnt drown in my main blog.

Don't gotta qualify it, it's shit I make sometimes.

18+ only to follow pls thank you.

[burgerscience]

How deeply and perfectly poetic it is

To model yourself after a knight

When everything you adorn yourself with

And every affect

Is just another kind of armour.

[burgerscience]

I'm Sorry I Look Like My Father

I’m sorry I look like my father, I’m sorry I look like the man who left you alone with three kids Two of which he’d given you, I’m sorry I look like my father Who got to have a social life while you had none Because before me and my sister He had been yours,

I’m sorry I look like the man who, Galled by your bid for independence, Framed you as hysterical And cruel To his family And yours,

I’m sorry I look like my father Who says he’ll call And never does,

I’m sorry I look like the man who left me waiting On the same windowsill Every weekend, And mocked me for not being ready when I had given up on him arriving at all,

I’m sorry I look like my father, My father Who boasts that he never agreed With the way I was raised, As if he ever tried to have a say at all,

I look like my hysterical mother, Who raised three children as a dutiful mother And wife, Who struck me and berated me when she was overwhelmed, Who cried and panicked and drank, Who learned to apologise, Who visits me every week, Who calls just because, Whose face lights up with joy when she sees me smiling,

And I’m sorry I look like my father too.

[burgerscience]

Have you downloaded the Temu App yet?

[burgerscience]

me when i... me

[burgerscience]

The horned beast flinched at its reflection. The barbs and fangs snarled back. It took a chisel and rasp and nicked down at the bone, the cartilage. It fluffed its fur. It made itself small. And for a long time, it recoiled at the sting whenever needles pressed up and out of its skin. It picked and scratched and pinched at the new growth. It dressed itself nicely, it cooed and posed and pranced. And still, in agony, the horns regrew time and time again.

[burgerscience]

Feels weird posting art just to post it. Like my friends like it which is cool. I'm not trying to build anything commercial with making anything I do. When I was much younger I desperately wanted people to interact with my art and I got really down when nobody did (or were cruel about it).

So I post it now because I'm scared of people seeing it? Like to get over myself. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk this post has no point.

Can't produce a lot. Can't even hold a pen that long these days. Just kinda nice to say hey I liked these things I did.

[burgerscience]

Dropping this one in alone cus of subject matter.

Tw: suicidal ideation

[burgerscience]

More sketchbook doodles.

[burgerscience]

Sometimes I force myself to draw

[burgerscience]

Talking with a friend yesterday about story writing and realised how much momentum I give myself with one simple phrase:

Wouldn't it be awful if...

[burgerscience]

Writing warmup - 17/05/25

I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd tumbled out of the pub and into the cold mist of rain. I was soaked through by the time I considered it and all I could really make out through my dripping glasses was the dancing reflections of amber streetlights. I kept dragging my feet forward, shivering and aching. Home would never be too much further. Stepping into the street at the wrong time could do it or wandering in the direction of the sound of waves breaking on pebbles. If I could just find my way, I'd be home in an instant. I could peel off my sodden clothes and collapse into dark blankets and doze off as everything became the same temperature.

The wind picked up and the sound of unsettled leaves had me wondering if a falling branch could take me home sooner.

A light fell across the path in front of me and a gentle voice called out. She asked me if I was lost. I told them I think I might have been.

The livingroom she invited me into was uncanny but warm and she pressed a hot cup of coffee into my hands. They told me to drink while they went to get a towel and as she left I wiped off my glasses on her sofa and peered around at the familiar room.

It was a wonder that her taste in furniture was exactly the same as mine and somehow they had pinned up many of the drawings I'd made when I was alive. She came back with a fluffy white towel with paint stains I recognised. She laughed as she dried me off and I asked how they had gotten hold of so many of my things.

They brought me my pajamas, fresh and clean and produced from the kitchen my favourite chocolate bar. Dry and warm and quietly chewing, I released a heavy breath as she held me and my eyes began to sting. I wondered, in agony, how it was that I felt like I had come home when I had come to know a home much darker and cooler, silent and eternal. I shuddered and buried my face in her warmth and said thank you. This temporary home was quite nice I said. They asked me to stay. And with trepidation I said I would try.

[burgerscience]

Anyway I did this to slap onto a birthday card for my sister last minute because I'm super organised. I'm wearing my goji shirt so she got goji.

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Super lazy posting just to post anything.

[burgerscience]

Started doing early sketchwork for a series of illustrations but I have no idea if ill have the guts to post them when they're done because it's straight up about suicidal ideation. (I'm fine, fr. I have a support network, people who need to know know, I'm not ticking any alarming boxes)

Its actually really helped just doodling these sketches. I gotta work on it more but conveying the thoughts plainly in a drawing has been the most effective means to get it out. And also highlighted how absurd it is to be living life, going about my day, otherwise relatively content with the bg noise of "I should kill myself" on loop.

It helps take the thought less seriously because I'm staging it with how despite it I am still living. Despite how awful I feel I'm still sucking in air and feeding myself and going out into the sun and seeing my friends. And I don't need to get on my own case if the whole time I'm doing all that I have that persistent thought. It just is. I just am.

Also I'm kinda amused/entertained/compelled by the working title of the series: "I keep thinking about things dangling from ceilings".

[burgerscience]

Writing warm up - 30/01/25

The Sun leaking out and spilling over rooftops during its lazy crawl over a winter sky has a seductive warmth. The darkness of the season and the cold make me so desperate for it that I sit in its blazing glory, the dazzling light and wavering heat, and let myself fade into its aura the way sunspots go unseen by the naked eye. During the dim and miserable season I would happily blind myself in the sparing hours of sunlight. It feels like I'm at odds with the Earth, turning one face towards the sun to deprive me of light on the other. Jealously, the Earth keeps the light to itself and I may merely sit in envy, blessing the rock that bore me for letting me have but a taste of the Sun.

If I would burn a chasm through the heart of the planet, or render its mass in pristine glass, in my infinitesimal insignificance, I could bask forever. I would say farewell to the night time and let the sun rend into my flesh to warm my bones and bleach them raw.

[burgerscience]

Desensitising myself to sharing unfinished/imperfect work by throwing my writing warm ups on here.

[burgerscience]

"It'll just have to look bad" has been such a goddamn helpful mantra. And filling up this years old sketchbook just to get it filled out of spite.