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Description
So this is that vent art I'd mentioned last month. Finally decided I should post it instead of letting it fester in my drawer. It's been a hell of a week, not gonna lie. I had to work Memorial Day weekend, so I'm physically exhausted, and my mother has kept acting to make my life feel less and less worth continuing, so I'm mentally exhausted. I honestly think the only reason I've made it to 25 without incident is because otherwise she'd win, and I can't leave the people affected behind to endure the grave-stomping that'd ensue. I'd love nothing more than to be with my dogs, but it's not my turn yet. I'm waiting for my turn, but unfortunately I've got a million problems tugging me back and forth which are all entirely within the power of other people to put a stop to, but they won't. They're too ecstatic huffing fumes up inside their own asses. They're not going to stop until their crimes drop them into the jagged slimy maw of Nidhogg. It's my curse to have to try and outlast them. That's the only real way out of this systematic torture.

Put another way, this work means absolutely nothing to the people responsible for the emotions in this piece.

I'm sorry this is so dark. I'm also sorry I'm being kinda vague. I just don't believe this is the place to spill my soul for pages on end. I don't want anyone to take that mysteriousness to mean there's cause to worry. I'll be okay, I promise. I just couldn't keep this burden to myself for much longer. Give me a few days and we'll be back to history stuff. I'll put the snarky bitch mask back on and we can all have another laugh at the French or something. Until then, I honestly just need a reminder that I'm not alone in this cosmos. Ghosts and gods can only supply so much company before the illusion of their presence evaporates, and the devils in my dreams come out to dance.

Description
So this is that vent art I'd mentioned last month. Finally decided I should post it instead of letting it fester in my drawer. It's been a hell of a week, not gonna lie. I had to work Memorial Day weekend, so I'm physically exhausted, and my mother has kept acting to make my life feel less and less worth continuing, so I'm mentally exhausted. I honestly think the only reason I've made it to 25 without incident is because otherwise she'd win, and I can't leave the people affected behind to endure the grave-stomping that'd ensue. I'd love nothing more than to be with my dogs, but it's not my turn yet. I'm waiting for my turn, but unfortunately I've got a million problems tugging me back and forth which are all entirely within the power of other people to put a stop to, but they won't. They're too ecstatic huffing fumes up inside their own asses. They're not going to stop until their crimes drop them into the jagged slimy maw of Nidhogg. It's my curse to have to try and outlast them. That's the only real way out of this systematic torture.

Put another way, this work means absolutely nothing to the people responsible for the emotions in this piece.

I'm sorry this is so dark. I'm also sorry I'm being kinda vague. I just don't believe this is the place to spill my soul for pages on end. I don't want anyone to take that mysteriousness to mean there's cause to worry. I'll be okay, I promise. I just couldn't keep this burden to myself for much longer. Give me a few days and we'll be back to history stuff. I'll put the snarky bitch mask back on and we can all have another laugh at the French or something. Until then, I honestly just need a reminder that I'm not alone in this cosmos. Ghosts and gods can only supply so much company before the illusion of their presence evaporates, and the devils in my dreams come out to dance.