callerblog

[callerblog]

dec 26 2024, 3:00 PM

I feel like I'm losing my mind. when I logged into this account just now I was planning to private every post that I've made, and instead I'm typing this. it was a fine experiment, I guess. no one's read any of this, but I guess I'm kinda glad. why would anyone want to? reading it all back was terrible and annoying. I've just been whining, really.

I think my trial run is over, and I'm getting instagram again. it was fun enough to pretend that I was above it, but I am lonely and scared and I've realized that I really can't be genuine online because it just ends up like this, and I really do want attention. I want to entertain. to curate. he is alive he is alive he is alive !!!!

I'll leave this up because there's no point in taking it down. might as well wait for someone to stumble across it or something. I like the way my custom theme looks. and maybe I'll change my mind again in a few days. i'm funny like that.

I'm supposed to be resting. this is not rest. I am being watched always, creating a character that no one is even seeing, and it's scary. I can't stop. so, I'm giving in.

[callerblog]

dec 24 2024, 3:21 PM

it's christmas eve ! already. strange.

yesterday was genuinely good. my cat woke me up at 7 am, my best friend facetimed me because she's in another country, and I went thrifting with a friend that I haven't seen for a long time because they moved away for college. i'm so used to pretending to enjoy things just a little bit, even if I actually am mostly having fun, but I really didn't have to yesterday. I drove home happy, but not relieved that it was over.

today i'm kind of just getting through. my family's doing dinner and white elephant at 6, which I'm looking forward to, but I'm pretty frustrated right now. I've been trying to knit my dad gloves but it's going terribly, and my stepmom's gift isn't gonna be done at all, and I kind of just feel like the creativity has been sapped from my body. I had an idea yesterday so i tried to write, got about a page in, and then started to get so upset with the outcome that it made me feel sick to think about. today that feeling has seeped into the video scripts that I was writing, and suddenly everything I've done lately is horrible. hopefully I'm just in a weird mood.

i hope everyone is having a nice holiday slash winter break ?? i'm very aware that no one's reading this but just in case ^^

[callerblog]

thu dec 19, 11:35 AM

this morning I'm sad. shocker!

i told people that I was gonna spend the first few months of my leave of absence resting. doing absolutely nothing. trying to get myself to a point where I felt so recharged and bored that I just naturally started doing stuff again. right now that's feeling just about impossible.

I've been kind of obsessed with figuring out how I want to use the internet lately, and it's gone along with trying to get over this terrible feeling that I wish I was my age in the early 2000s. I've felt this way since I was 12, but for the past month or so it's been persistent and devastating and completely useless. i've been going through a lot of archived accounts and websites from that time, and I'm stuck with this weird false nostalgia for shit camera quality and customizable profiles and typing like an emo kid on myspace, which is really funny because I could technically do that all of today. it's probably just a strange way that being lonely and scared is manifesting itself. I know that logically I would've not only been just as isolated as I am now, but also closeted and undiagnosed. still, that doesn't stop me from feeling like it would be so much easier to make friends if I was on the internet when it wasn't obligatory and the only people using it went out of their way to be there. it feels like right now I'm just engaging with accounts, when it used to be a lot more about interacting with people. but I wasn't there, so I don't really know. this is really silly, I know that. some of it is just aesthetics for sure. the most ridiculous part is that I could easily just start trying to make online friends right now, but I'm terrified of talking to people, and that wouldn't just go away if I could time travel. it's like in these fantasies I'm a neurotypical cis guy on myspace, which might as well make me an entirely different person. so no, I do not actually wish it was 2009, but I do really need something to change.

oh wait I can put songs here. current mood:

[callerblog]

hi :3 my name is gray, I draw and make music. you can find a lot of what I've done (and an intro/about me) on my website.

there was a page on there where I was writing a blog(?) but I decided that I actually want people to be able to find me, so I'm moving that here. i thought I was trying to make my own little substitute for social media as a whole, but I think I just wanted to escape the instagram user circle of hell. and now I can put pictures of myself on the internet here instead! life is so great

[callerblog]

wed dec 18 2024, 10:40 PM

(written when this was on my website)

today I took a long walk and finally got a library card (yay). the people who work there scare me, but i've been wanting to spend a little bit of time somewhere that isn't my room and it was nice for that. after walking around and reading random sections of books for two hours I finally checked out a collection of poems and short stories by Dorothy Parker. I was planning to get something considered classic literature, because I feel like I need to start reading things that give me context about the world (imagine culture is a tree and i've been studying the buds??), but Parker's stuff is actually fun to read and I decided that I'm allowed to start there. it ends up turning into a whole philosophical debate every time I have to make a decision: do I do what I actually want to, or what I think I 'should'? which one will make me happier?? am I considering the long-term?? very stressful.  in other news, I'll most likely end up moving this to tumblr and linking/embedding it here (??? can you do that) instead, because I've decided that I absolutely want attention and I'm 100% certain that no one is reading these. it's definitely unhealthy how much time i spend thinking about stuff like this, but because I'm stuck in my room for the next 8 months and i still use tumblr it just ends up being weird and forced and isolating to be writing on a blog that can only be accessed through a link that's essentially hidden on a website that no one ever visits.  also on the topic of wanting attention, I spent two days writing a very long script for a youtube video about being a burnt out autistic artist with a sense of a foreshortened future that I'm planning to film soon. it's not like I want to be a youtuber, but I like making videos and i really really want to have some kind of audience once i'm able to make decent art again, so i guess youtube is one way to do that. I was planning to film a video playing my old scratch games while I worked on that, because I put so much effort into them but they're too buggy and unfinished for anyone else to play, but it is not going well. I sat down and recorded for a full 45 minutes before one of them completely broke, and there are parts of the story that are being fully skipped over. lame and cruel and unusual. whatever, though. I should probably be resting instead of constantly editing. or something. that's all until next time love ya bye

[callerblog]

tue dec 17 2024, 10:25 PM

[callerblog]

sun dec 15 2024, 3:42 PM

agoraphobia animation - vewn

[callerblog]

sat dec 14 2024, 7:01 PM

yesterday I went to campus to do my math final, which means that I’m finally done and I won’t be back for the next 8 months. I noticed that something was wrong on the first day of college when I couldn’t make it through a few simple assignments without crying. it took me a while to stop telling myself to get over it, but eventually I came to the conclusion that I’ve been in autistic burnout for almost a year now. I can’t do chores, I can’t read, I can barely get my thoughts into words, but I’d kind of just convinced myself that I was always like this. i’ve always been tired, my room has always been a mess. but I looked back through my writing, and something changed drastically around last spring. I’d written almost 100,000 words of a novel, and some of it was genuinely beautiful, and it was all coherent in a way that I can’t even try for anymore, and then I just stopped. I don’t remember why. i’d just recorded an album, I was having so much fun making up characters and drawing comics, I regularly played shows with my band, I wrote myself album analyses and essays for fun, and suddenly I just lost all motivation for any of it. I stopped being able to think through complicated things without it hurting my head. I almost failed art class. I didn’t care enough to celebrate when I graduated. I went to panera for my 18th birthday and they got my order wrong, so I ate a salad that I didn’t want and went to bed. around the time that school ended I forced myself to write and record a few songs that ended up being realdogdemos, which I’m glad that I did, but that was the last of the energy that I had. I don’t know if they could have turned into something that I’m more proud of if I just waited and tried to spend time resting. it’s more likely that I would’ve forgotten how to play the songs without ever recording them.

so many things that I used to love doing have become chores that I try desperately to keep up with so that I don’t lose skill. I used to just be able to sit down, open band lab and improvise a song with synths and drums and stupid lyrics that still impact me today. now I put in so much effort trying to write out my thoughts without any embellishments, telling myself that I’m finally gonna record a song soon, using energy that I don’t have to just get my guitar out and remember how to play it, and then I give up and I’m even more tired than I was before i started. and so I decided that I really do need a fucking break. I begged UNM to let me take a semester off without losing my scholarships, and now I have nothing planned until August except for sitting in my room and resting. the only problem is that it turns out I have no fucking idea how to do that. 

now that I don’t have school draining my energy all I can think about is all of the time that I could be spending doing creative projects. I only had to leave the house for one day this week, and so since monday I spent three days straight putting together this website and then recorded and edited a youtube video which I ended up privating today hours after I posted it. at this rate I will never recover. I really thought that I was ready to take some radical break, but the thought of not doing this stuff is terrifying. I’m 18, the age where every artist that I look up to started creating their Body of Work. I’m losing time. I have skills that I need to practice to keep. at the same time I know that trying to make anything right now is counter-productive because I have genuinely skill-regressed in a lot of areas, and I need to stop for a long time so that I can get my capacity back. my eight-month break starts today, and I was supposed to be relieved, and so far I’m just terrified. 

(for some reason this feels so much more vain than posting on tumblr or something, even though I enjoy it so much more and no one’s gonna see it in the first place? oh well.)

[callerblog]

dec 10 2024  - callerbyte website created

[callerblog]

nov 23 2024

I want a fresh start. sterilized soul and clorox spinal cord, paws and ears that work. scrub the dead skin off my scalp and swallow it. to stop privating posts and hoping one day they turn into lost media. to take up a better and faker name, and pretend i don't want to be found out. I am infected again and I'm keeping and naming it. now we are both pets. (oh, shut up)

[callerblog]

oct 27 2024

I do not live anything that can be recorded. I can not write a memoir. And so, I try my hand at fiction, and I can not speak, and so there is no dialogue. I am not a man, or a woman, or anything in-between. I am not a human or a dog, not fully any one thing, really, and not an amalgamation. A cavity, maybe. A cave full of blind things that run into each other at random, and can not count themselves, and can not say anything true, really, because they are too many. And that is a bad metaphor. You don’t know anything until you can tell it as an analogy. Where did I hear that? Not out of my earbuds. I can’t find my earbuds. 

And I was ready to die once. And so I write out what it was like, and it is not prose. A textbook on fictionalized suffering, maybe (no better word that I can think of), and a sunburn after ten minutes in the shade, covered in chemical sunscreen (hey Dictionary) 

And now I need a long break to be inside and do more Nothing-Worth-Writing-About.

Aspergirls and werewolves. Boys allergic to UV rays. Men who burn in hot showers. Bald eagles and snails growing full heads of hair, too nervous to throw darts because they know that they have perfect aim. I am scared. Oh, this again.