Jun 20, 2019
m00dy
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m00dy
#Febuqueery Day 2: Gender Non-Conforming
For day two I wanted to show the non-binary bicon Connor Manning @aconnormanning in this amazing outfit they posted a while back. I sketched this yesterday but only managed to finish it today. I tried to go for a more dynamic pose to challenge myself and it didn't turn out totally terrible! Hope you like it! Connor is wonderfully goth so I took... some artistic licenses with this picture. Whether or not they have vampire teeth in real life... who can say?
Check out the full list of prompts for Febuqueery here! You can join in at any time and do however many you like.
[Image description: Digital drawing of Connor Manning wearing a plaid shirt over a seethrough black crop top. Connor has sleek black hair and vampire teeth. The background looks like cracks or webbing, very goth.]
The Breakup Expert
Me: *Takes 3 hour nap* Tumblr: Since you've been gone @aconnormanning has brought back the Rick Roll
Black Hole Coffee Shop - many moons ago
What does losing your passion look like? How do I even know that I ever felt real passion? As I sit here and ponder I wonder how everyone is managing to go on with their lives without clawing their fucking skin off. Do they know something I don't? Have they all unknowingly reached nirvana, leaving me behind in the metaphorical dust of the uninspired? Or have they become so content with the mundanity of this life that they sit like flies on shit, oblivious that the center of their world is the waste of another. Am I the only person in this crowd climbing the walls of my existence, acutely aware of my own insignificance? So it seems.
I feel as though I'm not of this world. Every interaction flowing through some sort of membrane that takes my essence and wrings it through before spitting it on the unsuspecting victim of my conversation.
What happened that we feel so out of place? Who are we: the loners, the aware, the decidedly bothered? A harrowing feeling overcomes me, a storm cloud on the precipice of my consciousness: as I write I become more empty instead of more full. Is this internal strife my life's essence? Do I diminish as I exhale? Am I only as alive as my anxieties? Will happiness any more permanent than these fleeting bouts of joy render me insufferably empty?
Do I even truly strive for happiness? Do I believe that I deserve it? On some level do I feel myself too intellectual for it? Should I once and for all disavow the banality of contentment? Time will tell.
@aconnormanning quotes for quote shower
Jokes aside its hecka cool that Connor took over his first gym (and also managed to get his username because I know a lot of content creators got theirs stolen)
@aconnormanning