Amour's Void Gallery

.a quiet place of dead life.

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My art blog

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I shouldn't have left the house today.

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"Dear diary, I can't begin to describe the pain and humiliation I went through today..."

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He's living his best life. Or maybe he's depressed - you decide.

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Depersonalisation is a terrifying thing. No, I’m serious. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, ever.

It caught me off guard again. The mirror had once more become my enemy. For a couple of seconds, catching a glimpse of my reflection out of the corner of my eye, I froze. Or rather, I went stiff. You know that paralysing sense of awkwardness when you accidentally make eye contact with a random person on the street? That’s roughly what I felt. Except it was a mirror, my own reflection, not a random person on the street. But at first I thought it was someone else, and only after a moment’s confusion did the realisation of the reflection sink in.

It’s scary. It’s just... Bloody scary.

...

Sometimes I feel like I can’t trust anything at all: not my eyes, not my ears, not my senses, not even my own thoughts.

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Brain goes "brrr."

I just realized I was sitting on the bed, staring blankly at a single spot. It’s been about two hours since I zoned out. I have no idea what this is, but it’s a little unsettling. Plus, it’s cold again.

It feels like I’m getting dumber. Not only do I speak and write awkwardly and clumsily, but I can’t really read properly either. Well, I can, but the text, you know... It just goes right past me? I’m kind of reading, kind of understanding everything, following the plot, but the next moment I suddenly freeze with the question, “Wait, how did you end up here? What’s this grid? Weren’t you driving?..” And this happens every single time. Even rereading a single page a dozen times doesn’t really help. It’s like my brain is starting to shut down, you know. To die off.

...

Though I won’t deny that I might know the reasons. Plain old fatigue. I keep crashing over and over; I constantly want to sleep. Like, all the time. Even when I seem to wake up after a normal night’s sleep—I still want to sleep. It’s a bit exhausting

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My sleep was suddenly interrupted. I was just thrown out of it, as if, you know... When an app crashes suddenly and throws you back to the desktop against your will. That’s the sort of awakening it was. On top of that, it’s shaking terribly. At first it even seemed as though it wasn’t me shaking, but that there were actually tremors underground – but no, everything around me is calm. But I’m shaking from the inside. I almost fell over as I got out of bed. I don’t know why I jumped up so suddenly.

It’s still shaking. My fingers are trembling so badly that they’re hard to control, and my whole body is incredibly tense. There’s a nasty, metallic taste on my tongue—either blood or something else... It’s so strong that I get the distinct feeling that if I open my mouth, blood will pour out. But no, there’s no blood.

I can’t get out of bed anymore. At first, waking up was apparently something akin to a state of shock – my body acted on its own before my mind had even fully kicked in. On top of everything else, I’m freezing. It scares me

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There's something wrong with me, but I don't understand what.

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I’ve been feeling so insecure lately. Insecure about everything: my art, my health, my blogs, my future... My life in general. It’s a vicious cycle that drags me deeper into my own fears, forcing me to literally think through every step, every word. Every time: “Is it really worth writing this? Am I annoying people? Maybe I shouldn’t have posted this after all? I’m a bad friend/artist/son/brother...” Literally every step, every breath goes through all of this. And, honestly...

I don’t know. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I should keep doing anything at all. It always feels like I’m doing something wrong, into the void, or just annoying people with my very existence, and I just...

I’ve been feeling insecure lately. Very insecure. About everything.

[gia-d]

It's Bluebell and its little hat! My baby, I'm desperately trying to find a way to incorporate it into more chapters of Shadowed, but I don't think it'd like that very much after what it already went through...

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I'm so so sorry, but... She (he?) reminded me of my old character

Um... Of him. Sorry...

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Hornet is watching my younger brother play Silksong.

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My brain is not braining anymore.

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Mother, lifting my backpack:

"What's in your backpack?"

"...Cordless screwdriver."

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My hands hurt so much... They're chapped again.

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... And then I fell as if under ice, and the dream took on the color of a nightmare again. A sudden heaviness, like a wall, fell on me. I rapidly sank to the bottom. Everything around me was a murky blue, like a dirty sea or something like that, and my ears hurt so much that I was ready to believe that what was happening was real.

I could only hear my own heart beating somewhere in my head, which made my eardrums very unhappy. Attempts to turn around or even move did not bring any particular results — my body seemed to have become part of the environment, or I had been stuck in jelly.

  After some time (it felt like at least an hour had passed), I began to hear some sounds that interrupted the painful pulsing of blood in my head. I heard them, but... I couldn't make them out. Everything sounded muffled, sluggish, as if I were underwater.

  After a while, the sounds that initially seemed like mere noise began to take shape, causing my ears to hurt incredibly: a low hum, coming from all sides and nowhere at the same time, gradually intensifying, and at some point I realized... It wasn't a hum. It was a strange, low, guttural laugh that grew louder with every passing second. I tried to cover my ears, to swim away, but, as you remember, I couldn't move. And the rumbling laughter only grew louder. Soon it reached such a volume that it seemed as if my ears would burst. I tried to scream and felt something terrible — the last of the air left my lungs and...

  I woke up. Covered in cold sweat and trembling slightly, I sat up abruptly in bed, feeling my heart still pounding in my ears.

[ginjusttalkaboutnothing]

Whatever anyone says, reading text on a screen and reading it on paper are two completely different things. They are perceived not only by the eyes, but also by the brain. How can I explain this more clearly...

I think everyone, or at least many people, hear a voice in their head when they read text to themselves, right? Well, when I read from a screen, this inner narrator is always trying to rush ahead, not giving me even a second to comprehend what I've read. I kind of... jump around the text without understanding its essence. And everything - both the author's speech and the characters' direct speech - is read in the same tone, with the same voice. It's all kind of... empty and emotionless, that's it.

With text on paper, it's exactly the opposite: even though the letters jump around and the words don't always immediately form into... Words, the text feels alive, and the inner narrator reads everything in such a way that images are drawn in my head. That's why I prefer paper books (and I don't even want to start talking about the audio format).