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Morning Glow -    Kenneth Pils , 2022.

Swedish , b. 1964  -

Acryliv on canvas , 80 x 110 cm

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you cannot advertise to me in a way that matters.

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Lookin for a midnight treat

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Someone needs to invent technology so that i never have to hear or read anything nico rosberg says about Lewis for the rest of my life. Positive or negative. Idgaf

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Oh Mr. Amtrak

Am me some tracks

Make sure I'm close to

The car with the snacks

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gritting my teeth + gritting my teeth

my cycle of self-harm is like. i feel the urge bubbling. i think "no. i know better. i am better. i got this." then, i see my face in the mirror. in the wrong light, at the wrong angle, much too close. my resolve weakens. well. maybe just a little bit. but not a LOT. just for a second. i'm not going to go overboard this time. i swear. i promise. "okay fine, go ahead."

but then i get started picking and scratching and scraping and every scrape gives me a tiny hit of dopamine. it really hurts and it feels good. and it's right. my face is disgusting and it should be remade. my skin is a sign of how unwell and impure i am and i deserve this torture. fuck it, wheels off, go crazy. who cares. who cares who cares. we'll figure out a magical way to heal it quickly this time. we've got acids and oils and lotions. we'll figure it out. just go until you can't go anymore.

next thing i know my face is red, swollen, bleeding, full of scratch marks. it's really bleeding, too. if i go further i'll probably make myself cry. only at this moment am i able to come to my senses, wash my hands, splash my face with cold water, and step away from the mirror.

my wife sees me when i try to sneak into the hallway closet for the vitamin e oil there. "what happened?" she asks, alarmed.

miserably, i think, you know what happened. but she always gives me the benefit of the doubt first, which is nice, i guess. "me," i mumble. humiliated. scared of myself. they sigh my name and i get defensive: "i can't control myself!" which is not true. i can control myself, i'm actually very good at it. i don't know why this one habit persists. i don't know why i can't kick it. it started as a preteen and has followed me into my 30s. it's always worse when i'm stressed. sometimes it happens 30 minutes before an important event, which is embarrassing.

i hate it and i want to stop it. but at the same time it makes me feel better. if i really wanted to stop, i'd take more serious steps with the help of my wife. if i wanted to stop, i'd tell my therapist about it. but i don't. my therapist of 4 years does not know. so i guess i want this. it's not even that big of a deal, really. my face is just bleeding.

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Hello hello I have joined forces with some other artists to help out a family in Gaza! Please share this and if you can, donate and/or commision us! :)

Server link:

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Girl you need to get out of bed faster than this

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forever repeating 'trust the process' in my head while making these marker portrait studies 😅 #brbchasingdreams

🎵 Blue Wednesday - Things In Between

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Yukierre on the truck + valewis

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