#insomniaart

[insomniadraws]

"Dad says you a lil BITCH"

[shadensummerx3]

"Good trouble" with this newly remembered Stylus on my phone.

[kyung-seokie]

Tonight, the sky is eclectic, streaked with the crimsons and scarlets of my longings, but the splayed blackness around jolts me back to actuality.

I rise, switch on the lights, and pick up my journal; insomnia and you never fail to stir the ink in my soul, you see. Both my pen and my heart are your slaves.

The spreading ink paints its praises of you onto the pale, blue paper, while my mind sings a ballad, weaved with my bittersweet smiles and wistful tears. I drift away for a while, and envision you - your nimble fingertips and eyes poring over a page of Whitmanesque poetry, the gears of your sagacity in constant motion, subverting chaos with art, creating alternate, utopian realms with aisles of neon lights and gleaming hopes.

“Just tell him, you know. This is plain masochism, honey. Stifling your love. A couple weeks more, and you won’t see him again.”

“He’s different, you see. He’s the rainbow after a pleasant drizzle, but is also the thundering rainstorm I secretly await on sultry, summer nights.

He’s the lotus I see when I go for long walks along my favourite lake, and yet, he’s also the scent of tuberose, lingering in the air, that keeps me up at nights.

He’s the blue butterfly I’d chase amidst the wildflowers as a child, and the lonely firefly near my window, illuminating my dark.

He’s like the quaint café where I sit and read good old Murakami, and yet he feels like the antique fresco on the ceiling of the cathedral I’d visited as a child, and still remember fondly.

He speaks wisdom and yet secretly enjoys his share of anarchy and peril, and he blurs the lines between my dreams and my mundanities, because he’s a constant in both of them.”

“You must really love him.”

“ I do. Precisely why I never confessed to him. He’s too much of a rarity for me to possess, to deserve. That munchkin.”, I smile through my tears.

I wipe my face and look at the page. It looked like ink and heartbreak had made love, the incompleteness and the passions smeared all over. A certain paragraph catches my eye. It said:

“I suppose why I could never tell you my fondest secret, is because my desires for you transcend words, and betray language. And you, Shiloh, my love, my man of letters and literature, my beloved embodiment of poetry and darkness, my most cherished quintessence of Eliot and Lawrence, of Coleridge and Keats, you would find my affections so abstruse, so arcane. So I’ll just keep my thinking and my writing to myself, secretly wondering, rather hoping, that maybe you, somehow, already know. And maybe, in one of those utopian universes of yours, we’ll be together, hands and hearts entwined, like Baldwin’s David and Giovanni, hoping that our story won’t end the way theirs did.”

|| As I part ways with you, my muse, I hope you’ll not partake of the Lethean waters and forget me. That’s all I ask of you. Save me at least a little corner of your memory, if not your heart. You’ll forever be a part of Jane. 🍂||

[insomniadraws]

That's right, I'm back at it again, and doodled Soulfire for the fun of it, ik I keep forgetting to post here so I'll *try* to be more active

[insomniadraws]

Based on a scene from a session in a role-playing campaign called "Accel Impact" on VRChat. The orb summons a shadow beast that takes the form of a Zoroark, and it creates illusions based on one's worst fears. Braxx can amplify them with his shadow magic to be practically nightmare fuel, this was the most badass scene he's had thus far and it was so fun!

[insomniadraws]

When you make your Gaster a human design for shits and giggles and then realize you put in too much effort

[insomniadraws]

Old characters die hard, literally killed the man off, whoopsie

[insomniadraws]

Today we get to celebrate the bad ass @thejessofmess 's womb containment breach anniversary with their hot-headed pissbaby microwave man!