This post was inspired by a particular video and its comments. However, I will link to neither because it’s an uncomfortable subject and it probably comes off as being oversensitive. Still, I feel the need to talk about it.
I haven’t been feeling well over the past few days.
I’ve been going over some of my previous posts on this blog, and some of my old stories and art on my story blog and DA account. I don’t draw anymore and I write very little. It wasn’t a conscious choice to give it up. I just began slowing down and eventually stopped doing it. Although it’s a conscious choice now since I realized that.
Some of the posts I’ve written here make me embarrassed when I go back and read them. There’s a post from January 2015 I read over where I’m pretty much confident and optimistic about the year regarding art. Now that it’s 2016, I want to go back in time and choke myself like the moron I was at the time to be writing that.
There’s a question that goes “What would you do if you knew you wouldn’t fail?” My answer to that question is many things. But that’s not reality, so it’s a silly question. My first failure/mistake was thinking I could draw or write anything good in the first place. And no, “everyone learns at their own pace” doesn’t help me feel better. That just tells me I’m slow.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself or my life. I do know art won’t be a part of it. Looking over the pictures and stories I made in the past makes me somewhat nostalgic and wish I could go back to those times when I enjoyed it. The truth is it’s not fun anymore. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere down the line, drawing and writing lost their charm, especially the former. I don’t plan things to write anymore. I just write whatever comes to mind. Perhaps the loss of interest is the consequence for becoming interested in drawing for a poor reason to begin with (wanting to make fan art).
Everyone can’t be the best, but some people aren’t best at anything. Likewise, no one can be good at everything, but some people aren’t good at anything. If I could go back to 2010 (which was a bad year to begin with due to family drama), I’d never pick up a pencil to do anything except write a school assignment.
My only problem regarding art now is what to do with my sketchbooks. One is already full, but the second is only half-full and the third is completely empty. I suppose I could toss them out, but I’d hate to waste so much paper.
I’m going to end this post with a post from Whisper and my relation to it.
Story of my life. One of the biggest lies I was told as a kid is “It’ll be okay.” No, it won’t. It will not be okay.
Somehow, I managed to get a boyfriend. I’m happy about that and, better yet, my feelings for Emmi are fading. I admit I’m still occasionally tempted to try to mend things with him, but I never act on it. I don’t hate Emmi, however. I do hope he’s doing well.
Getting to the point of this post, Jia (again, I know it’s a female name, but it was considered unisex on the site I got it from) and I met up yesterday to hang out together. This is the third time we’ve met up, but unlike the previous two times, we got “intimate”. I put that in quotations because it was really Jia kissing me all over my face and neck, and feeling me up. I admit I liked it, hence why I allowed him to continue doing it, but the point of this was to try to arouse me. He certainly got aroused (if his breathing growing heavily was any indication), but I merely sat there and wondered what the heck I’m supposed to do.
As I said, I liked it, but I was not aroused at all. It simply felt good and he wasn’t hurting me. It also felt strange, I’ll admit, but still good. I told him I cannot be aroused and it seems he took that as a challenge. He wants to find what can arouse me. I told him, “Good luck.”
I’m not sure if he noticed or not, but, in spite of liking what he was doing to me, I was more interested in the park we were in than his attempts to arouse me. I paid more attention to the other people in the park, their dogs, the plants, the birds, the dirt, and even the sunlight. Whenever someone walked past us, especially a child, he stopped. I would secretly hope more people would walk by so there’d be an excuse to discontinue his…umm…acts (I don’t what you’d call a bunch of kissing that’s not on the lips). Of course, I could’ve told him to stop too, but I wasn’t disinterested in him. I merely found the park more interesting.
That’s confusing, isn’t it? Yeah, I think I understand why Emmi got fed up. I would’ve driven him up a wall.
Some other things I don’t understand. Jia likes my stomach and repeatedly called it “sexy” and I think he also said it was tight. My mental reaction was basically “umm…okay.” I didn’t get it. It was just my stomach. The same stomach I’ve had since I was born. Was it supposed to be something else? When he was feeling me up, he also said my nipples were hard, which he said means someone is aroused. My reaction to that was the same as my reaction to him liking my stomach. Nothing on my body felt any way than it usually did. Honestly, I wish I could’ve felt whatever he was feeling because I do not get it. I really don’t. I’m also not understanding what is so attractive about my neck. Or my shoulders. Or my hands, which he also kissed. Or my bra straps. Well, okay, I kind of understand the last one since it holds my breasts, but he also liked the bra itself. Aren’t I the only one supposed to like that?
As the title says, I’m so confused.