TheVesselNonEternal

-Vixen- Highschool Junior He/him A somewhat daily blog about my life

[thevesselnoneternal]

Hello and welcome!

My name is Vixen, I am AFAB and trans (he/him)

I have another blog (@thevesseleternal) and it contains gory and nsfw writing

I am 16, I love all things music and all things art

I am an artist myself, I draw traditional object heads- and yes I am on artfight as VesselEternal

I love the asthetics of blood, electronic gore, celestial bodies, whimsy goth, and much nore

This blog is for the writers, scared teens, romantics, over thinkers, the queer, and the lost

I take all asks, wether it be about my writing, my life, life advice, or just to show off something cool you made/did!

Enjoy

-DNI—> Ai users, homophobes, transphobes misogynists, racists, sexists, ableists, pedophiles, Zionists, politically conservative people,

[thevesselnoneternal]

I saw him

I cried

Immediately broke down

I can’t even make a second of eye contact without losing it

God fucking damnit

I thought i was over it

Thought he was out of my head

That seeing him would just hurt a little

Not tear my heart out

God damnit

I got a job today too

I should be happy

I made myself amazing food

I should be happy

Why’d I have to look at you

I hate that I really do so much better when I don’t think about you

That I feel like absolute shit when I do think about you

I was doing so good

I don’t even want to go to the gym tommorow

I feel like such shit

Like there’s a pressure of anger and sadness

I don’t want to go to school

I don’t want to have this job

Mom asked if I was excited

I said no, it’s a job. Why would I be excited.

I can already tell my boss is going to be snappy

My cooking was great but I’d rather starve myself

I don’t deserve food tonight

I don’t know why

But somehow I do

I picked up my copy of bicentennial man

My arms shook, I had to put it down

Fuck all of this

After this I won’t think about you until I see you again

I better not

God damnit

[thevesselnoneternal]

A bowl of fruit

Not bad, right?

Until your left with half a bowl

Cant eat

Too full

Two parts of you rise

The one that you were raided with

It yells “you better eat the rest of it. All of it.”

Even though you know your stomach will bulge and you will not feel good. You will be uncomfortable.

The other part that you have taught yourself

It says “eat what you can, if you cant eat the rest, throw it in the fridge”

But it’s FRUIT.

It’ll rot

Go bad

You won’t eat it if it goes bad

So what do you do? Just eat the bananas so it dosnt rot as bad? Eat the whole thing and feel horrible? Throw it all away and waste the money spent?

It’s just a bowl of fruit

But it’s more than that

It’s a matter of money and privilege

Do I have the money to spare? The privilege to throw out fresh fruit when little have it? Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, it’s all so expensive

It’s just a bowl of fruit

I look back to being forced to sit at the dining room table with a half eaten plate of food. I’m full. I’m not hungry. I’m too full. Your parent says eat.

I look to now, caring about my body, trying not to over eat, listening to my body

I look at my parents talking about money problems

It’s just a bowl of fruit

A convoluted bowl of expensive precious fruit

[thevesselnoneternal]

More people need to have intro blogs 💔 if you like my post I WILL check out your profile but without an intro post I have no clue who you are or even the semblance of an idea

And if you made one a while back and I have to go digging for it PLEASE just pin it

[thevesselnoneternal]

I wish I had listened

Years ago, when I was at one of my worsts

People told me to go to the gym

People told me to keep a sleep schedule

People told me to eat

And I didn’t

I avoided doing anything in gym class

I stayed up all night

I wouldn’t eat dinner

And I felt like shit

Forgetting to shower for 5 days

Feeling pretty bad about myself

Hating the way I looked

The way I felt

And recently…

I started to listen to the advice

I feel so much better

I’m going to the gym semi-consistently

My friend and I talk while we go, and we do what feels good for the day

I’m eating all three meals plus snacks

It’s not healthy but it’s better than not eating at all

And i sleep at 11pm, wake up at 8am, my day truly starts at 11am.

It’s great during the summer

Sometimes I don’t remember to shower or brush my teeth

But at least I don’t hate myself

That’s the bare minimum I’ve set for myself

It’s the body I have to live in for the rest of my life

Might as well do what I can to enjoy it

[thevesselnoneternal]

Here’s the bread I made

[thevesselnoneternal]

The importance of time and to take it slow

Today I made bread for the first time

It took so long

I woke up at 7, started working on it at 10

I made the dough, waited, by the time I had to let it rise it was 12

I went to the mall to return jeans and get new ones and to walk around

I got back at 2

I work tirelessly on figuring out how the hell to make this bread

The recipie says bake for 30 minutes

I take an hour

The bread fights me and rejects the cheese I add

I douse it in seasoned butter trying to get it to brown

It refuses

By the time I’m done with this bread it is 6

I make fettuccine Alfredo

It’s 7

By the time I sit down to eat I can’t

I’m nauseous

I drink my water and lay down, not able to enjoy the fruits of my labor

I realize what I had done all day

I made bread, returned pants, and made pasta

All day

I accomplished three things and it took me

All

Day

I look at it and appreciate that I can do that.

That I took one day and spent it learning a new skill

That I took all of today to bake bread, make pasta, and run an errand

I need to take my time and waste it, not by scrolling, but by doing things I never would do

Redecorate my room, go through all my clothing, paint, make music, make bread, make a soup, learn how to handle clay, learn color theory

Do something

To waste the time you have doing something new

Or just take a nap

That works too

[thevesselnoneternal]

Friends are hard and the relationships between my friends are harder

You aren’t my friend anymore

it feels like the episode in Bojack when his mother dies

“My husband is dead now and my life is worse”

My best friend is gone now and my life is worse

But it’s not out of truth,

more so out of an innate need to feel bad

I feel so much better

I just get a little sad at night,

But that’s now new

My dream room is almost done, summers almost over, I’m starting junior year, I’m going to the gym, making one meal a week, seeing my friends regularly

This whole “being active in the world ” thing costs a lot more money than I thought it would

The gym is only free over the summer

Besides that there’s nothing else free to do

I can go to the mall- window shop or buy cheap items

Walk around Walmart….creepy men and still costs money

Thrift store! That’s still at the minimum 12-20$ for good items I’ll wear and use

The park! In this heat? It’s reaching 103°

I can drive around but the gas prices are killing me, a full tank is 50~60$

Seeing friends is cool, but then we have to get some kind of food or snack

I can bake but I would need an extra ingredient or two

The summers almost over

I both dread school

And can’t wait

I want to be able to see my friend every day, do something with my days, and dress up

I am not ready to wake up at 7am and be out of the house by 8, have the stress of classes and algebra II, and much less to not have free time with my friends

I can’t spend from 12-6 with my friends when school starts, at most it’ll be from 5-8

I want the ability to have a part time job and go to school and see my friends

That seems so impossible

To go to school from 8-4, get home at 4:30, go to work till 8, and then…what, stay up will 12 doing homework and have no time to myself?

Even without work school sucks-

I have from 4:30-8 to see people at the MOST after school

4 hours is not enough for my loved ones

7 hours of sleep is not enough for me

8 hours of school is to much for a teenager

2 hours of homework is too much for me

[thevesselnoneternal]

How to lose 30lbs in ten days!

Day 1: stare in the mirror and hate yourself. Hate who you are. Because who you see in the mirror is all you’ll ever be.

Day 2: look up how much you should weight for your height and age! It’s not the weight of a child. It’s a healthy weight. You are obese.

Day 3: hate yourself some more. It’s motivation. can’t go to the gym? ignore that mid day snack. Just sleep, it makes you less hungry.

Day 4: you feel that rumble in your stomach? It means you’re doing it right. You should always be at least a little hungry, right?

Day 5: halfway there! Weight check in! oh, still a pig? That’s no problem, you have 5 more days to fix that easy and quick. Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels!

Day 6: you feel so tired, your stomach was so loud your friends could hear it the entire time they came over. Is this how skinny people live? Hungry?

Day 7: stop eating all together, you don’t deserve it. You ate last night because of your friends. You knew it wasn’t on the diet plan

Day 8: you feel empty, the bile in your throat burning. You had to look different. This was your last chance or you would be fat forever.

Day 9: almost to the end. It’s more bile. Less food. Lots of water. But then you gain water weight. Just stop consuming all together.

Day 10: you barely get out of bed, your body so weak it can’t hold you up properly. You feel like an abused animal. Starving. Toast, butter, throw up. You feel better. You weigh yourself

You look…wrong. Was your ribcage always this visible? So boxy? You hate it. You hate you. Why can’t anything work. You lose weight, your ribcage is huge, are you just doomed to always look like this?

You throw up. It’s just bile

You go to bed

Day 11 never comes

You slept in the bathtub, covered in cuts

At least in death you were skinny

Maybe in the morgue they’ll think you looked pretty

[thevesselnoneternal]

Taking off my clothes in the privacy of my room

Bra off, underwear on, shirt off, pants off

A door opens

A woman lays her weight on top of me

She touches my chest

She touches me

Her crazed face

“I know you want this”

I struggle, I fight, I elbow her in the face

My vision goes black and I wake up

I try to go back to sleep but I do not want to experience that again.

I don’t want to dream of being assaulted with no chance of my own nervous system waking me up

So I lay in bed and I take a few minutes to myself.

It’s not the first time I’ve had these nightmares

It’s why I know they’ll happen back to back to back to back

Watching someone get assaulted in a public pool. I scream for help. Men. Women. I tell children to leave. No one helps. I wake up

I get assaulted in the same pool. No one helps. I wake up

Assaulted by an older man in the girls bathroom. No one notices. I wake up

Assaulted in the forest while trying to run away. One person notices. I wake up

A motherly figure kills the man, kisses my head, and addresses it no further. I wake up

I do not go back to sleep

I go to school and hope no one thinks my tank top is an invite

And if they do

I hope someone notices

I hope someone helps

[thevesselnoneternal]

To look in the mirror at myself is something new

Not because I haven’t seen my own reflection

But because I look at myself and smile

I can see the young girl who constantly wore heavy winter hoodies in the 90° summer heat

The girl who thought she was ugly for being fat

Truthfully, I was midsize at best

I can see the girl who dressed up in a white button up and black skirt just to be told she looked like a maid

I can see the girl who only wore jeans and oversized shirts because I was shunned for being different

I can see the girl who avoided mirrors or fixated on the reflection because she only saw herself through someone else’s eyes

I cant help but to stare into a mirror even now

Though, not for the same reasons

What once was staring at pimples or my big nose became admiring my skins texture and the bump in my nose that gave it shape

What once was looking to see if my outfit was too weird became me looking to see if I stood out enough and jingled when I walk

What once was sucking in the fat of my stomach became wearing low rise jeans and a tank top to free my belly

I look into the mirror and I see

Me

The young man I am, handsome with the prettiest eyes

Lips that curve perfectly against my lovers

A big nose with a bump that give me a unique silhouette

Fat rosy cheeks that make me look great when I smile

Well defined collar bones and neck perfect for learning body posing

Wide hips to hold my amazing ass

Soft stomach fat to play with when I’m bored

Thick thighs to fill out my form

And I love every part of it, and looking back on the past I loved every bit of her too

I just hadent looked hard enough

[thevesselnoneternal]

To leave someone because it’s better for you feels so…

Selfish.

I know you’d do better with me here

But I wouldn’t

When I think about you I spiral, and at this point

It kills me to think about how things could’ve gone differently

You’ve hurt me and given no good apology when I’ve given you the chance

So don’t try

Does this mean my poems go unread?

Maybe

But that’s a chance I’ll take

For myself it’s better I don’t see you for a while.

And it hurts to leave

But we knew this would happen

So why didn’t you prepare for it?

I did

[vessel-eternal]

To be born a woman is to learn what rape is and to fear it as a constant. I do not remember when I first learned about rape. I do remember it always being my worst fear. Someone forcing me down and taking advantage of me.

I will always remember.

I remember getting pepper spray from a friend at 14 and being so excited to feel safer when I went out for a walk. I remember asking my mom for a pocket knife at 14 because I realized pepper spray will not always help. I remember getting my first pocket knife at 15 and keeping it on me at all times. I remember making the conscious choice to wear something less revealing to go out to the store at 15. I remember at 15 running home at full speed because a man in a gas station asked to go to my house to see my “cat”. I remember getting followed at 16 from one store to another by a man and strategically making him lose sight of me.

It goes to me being a pre-teen.

I remember being 11 at a family party and a boy as young as 9 touched my vagina through my clothing.

I remember being 13 and wearing a tank top in the summer hear and keeping my jacket all the way zipped up because I had a large chest. I remember two boys on the bus of the age of 10 pulling that same zipper down to see my boobs.

And especially now more than ever is it still affecting me.

I stare at every man who looks me over dead in the eyes with a crazed look so they are less likely to try and molest me. I walk with a purpose in public so I am less likely to get molested. I do not smile at men in public so I am less likely to get molested.

To be female is to be in fear of leaving your own house for no reason other than existing.

[thevesselnoneternal]

“I come home smelling like broken dreams and summer heat”

Something I wrote a few years back.

Just that one quote.

I didn’t know what it meant then, but it felt right.

I had no dreams that broke

The heat just made me sweat.

So what, was I just the melancholy writer in middle school who thought they knew better?

Yeah, probably.

But even now, as a soon to be junior in highschool I still think it means something.

“I come home smelling like broken dreams and summer heat”

I come home after a long day of school, so so tired of the algebra that I sucked at, the gym class I hated, and then when I get on the bus I realize my headphones are dead.

I spent all of algebra using the dry erase markers to draw on my desk instead of doing the homework. I have no clue whats going on in that class.

In gym I did practically nothing, and my gym shirt smelled so so bad. I stole a friends spray deodorant and made a dust cloud that smelled like “fresh cucumber”

It’s 90° on a Tuesday and all I want is to go home and talk to my online friends.

“I come home smelling like broken dreams and summer heat”

I walk off the bus at my stop, which, arguably, is way too far away from my house when there is a stop that is SO much closer.

I always thought about how I should be at that stop on my way home. I hated walking up that hill and back down it to get home.

I’m sweating like a pig by the time I get to my front door, my previously green tank top turning a new shade of puke from the sweat.

I type,

“I come home smelling like broken dreams and summer heat”

I open the front door, go to my room, I lay in my bed and cry.

[thevesselnoneternal]

Vampire wearing a shirt that says “est. 1842”

[thevesselnoneternal]

Everyone wants to be seen

Realize it or not, this is the carnal truth.

Everyone wants to be seen by someone

Eventually, you wish for closeness, for love of any kind.

Familial, romantic, platonic, everyone wants some intimacy.

It can’t be said as easily as that, it’s more complex

You want someone to understand you inside and out, to know what you need without a word spoken. To be able to cry without a reason, to be able to say what’s wrong and have nothing said back but “come here” and to be held.

To have someone who can be there in a moments notice. A phone call at 4am and be there within twenty minutes with all the love and support one can offer.

To be seen is to be loved, and everyone wants to be seen

[thevesselnoneternal]

Arizona tea; the poor mans water