#and now since my school's all online i never touch my sketchbook anymore

[parchmentknight]

currently in an art slump where i hate my art and think it sucks major ass but i remind myself that younger me, even me a year ago, would think my art is epic and swag and cool

[ravenwolfie97]

2020 Art Summary

Yep, it’s 2021 already. 2020 is finally over. It felt like it lasted forever, and it felt like the end would never come, but here we are. Crazy how the time flew by.

I felt like I didn’t get much art done this year because of Current World Event, but I made a lot more than I thought I did. Even some of my new favorite pieces came out of this year, so I think that’s worth celebrating and looking back upon!

I was insanely productive during the first month of 2020, and looking back I was surprised at all the stuff I did, but then I remembered that that winter season was actually one of the best times of my life! I started being more socially involved, and I think my newfound drive at the time translated into all the art I pumped out this month. This is just a small fraction of what I made in January, but I only have so much space. Quite a few complex pieces in both style exploration and polishing my own style.

Apparently February was a rather intimate month. Things began to slow down in terms of my own art here, with me spending more time in social settings and school work ramping up, I didn’t have as much time to coop up in my room to draw. I did wanna do something for a friend’s Valentine’s Day OC art challenge, so I drew my lovey-dovey couple from Dance of 1000 Words havin’ a dance. Nothing actually came of that challenge, but it was fun to do regardless.

One of the things I was most proud of in the winter season was making more friends, and one of the closest friends I made was completely coincidental. I met a person named Kiri on the bus one night I decided to volunteer somewhere by myself, and we ended up chatting and getting along. They quickly told me their tumblr username, and I shot them a message immediately after they left. A couple days later, we met up for brunch, and we started becoming really close friends and creative partners!

Not much else happened in March cuz that’s when Current World Event started becoming an issue, but Kiri and I still kept in close touch and we randomly started developing a concept for a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Galar Edition. These are a handful of characters we thought up, with Skipper the Scorbunny and Dross the Dreepy as the main characters, Morgrem as the main antagonist, and some shopkeepers such as those of the Greedent Bank and the Indeedee General Store. This was also my first time drawing all of these Galar Pokemon (except Scorbunny, but I also made Skipper a bit more unique than a regular Scorbunny).

Lots of events happened this month. First of all, Steven Universe Future ended, one of my favorite and most influential shows was no longer continuing. I had to do something as tribute, both as a send-off to one of the greatest cartoons in the world and as a cathartic release for my feelings towards it.

A while later, I got the opportunity to start playing an MMO in beta called Fer.al, by the same people who made Animal Jam, which coincidentally I had also beta tested for back in the day. I ended up getting really attached to my first character, a Senri I named Sasha, and though I’ve made more characters than them since, they’re still my absolute favorite. Though I haven’t touched the game in a few months, I was really engrossed for a long time and enjoyed playing through the beta and early access phases.

At the end of the month, some friends of mine invited to a roleplay group with some mutuals, and we all played characters in a crime syndicate. Just a bunch of ragtag thieves and criminals who ended up together in order to protect an artifact called the Crown of Thieves, which was essentially a flag to be taken by other groups to prove that they are the best thieves in the land. My character was based heavily on my sona (if it wasn’t obvious) and was also influenced by Cloud Strife, since the FFVII Remake had just come out and I was super into watching the cutscenes at the time. My character’s (code)name is Valkyrie, and they are a mercenary, going between multiple different employers to carry out whatever duties they need to do. They have a more complicated backstory, but presently they were recently hired by recommendation of their friend Shark (played by @shmoots-universe​ who is also My friend now ily maya) who works with a group called the Court Cards who are currently in possession of the Crown of Thieves. Valk never really had a place to call home, but staying with this group of people had to be the closest they could get to that feeling. They still sleep with a knife under their pillow because of trust issue but that’s okay.

Okay, so technically these examples started in April, but I continued making content with them in May, and the month was just pretty void of art in general, so here I am addressing them.

There were two main things I worked on this month: a Steven Universe AU of my own and the whole #sixfanarts thing that kicked off around then. Let’s start with the fanart bits. I did two and a half of them (six in April and nine in May), and it was so much fun to be able to draw stuff I don’t normally do! My personal favorites are shown here: Blake Belladonna from RWBY, Roll from Megaman, Yuki Konno from Sword Art Online, and Link from The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. The other thing I’d been planning for a while was a Steven Universe AU, probably to cope with the show being over but also because I was inspired by a lot of those SU AU artists I started following at the time. I won’t share the details here because it’s gonna have its own blog at some point, but the example I’ve shown here is of a comic I made loosely in order to introduce a divergence in the plot of the story as well as introduce a character unique to my AU. It was a lot of fun figuring out how to draw the characters and get a feel for the style.

As the year progressed, my amount of art I made per month began to dwindle, this time mostly because school was kicking my ass especially hard with finals. However, I took what time I had to get some backburner pieces finished, like the Tigerlily picture which I sketched out a couple months back, and the Gunvolt picture which I started working on SIX YEARS AGO. I don’t quite know why I got the urge to work on it again after so long, but it was nice to finally realize. The other drawing for DOTS was done in the dead of night but I was really happy with how it came out.

Despite only having two summer classes left of school, this month was really rough because they demanded a lot of my time and attention. I did not have the gumption to do anything digital, so I stuck to my sketchbook to get out what I felt like getting out.

My friends and I did a stream of the game Helltaker, and I really enjoyed the concept, so in following my friends I made my own Helltaker demon OC named Raksha the Ravenous Demon (it’s a pun but also got mythical insp). I also got super into Hazbin Hotel at this point, mostly because the Addict music video dropped and I couldn’t get enough of it, so I doodled Angel Dust cuz I felt like it. The other drawing I did was actually a free commission I gave a friend of mine as a prize for a trivia game show I ran back in June. He along with a couple other friends got some free drawings from me for getting the top three scores, and this one in particular was fun because of how interesting it was. He wanted me to draw a video game reviewer called the Irate Gamer from a specific moment, and I decided to go ham and just make it as dramatic as possible.

University classes finally wrapped up and right after that I was in the process of moving out of my apartment and getting adjusted to living with my parents again. I did a couple of agg.io drawing sessions with my friends from the Court Cards group as well as a new Dungeons and Dragons homebrew group I had joined. I drew some more of Valkyrie and came up with a design for my DND character Qakuqtuq (or Kai for short). He is monkey grandpa and I love him.

My main focus was on finishing a polished piece for my friend Cake, whose birthday was in the upcoming month. I wanted it to be as amazing as possible, so I put a lot of time into getting more detailed and making them look good. In addition to that, I did a few TOME doodles just for fun. The creature on the bottom was for this month’s art challenge on my Discord server where we made original TOMERPG monsters, and I created Hundylow, a Crystal-element monster based on the Grindylow from English folklore.

This month was a lot more productive than the past few had been. I tried to do a 31-day art challenge called Creatober but failed to get past the third prompt because I was still swamped with other work. I’m still happy with what little I did, including the piece with my characters Kyle and Guarudan from DSWD.

I don’t remember how, but I also suddenly rediscovered an old Flipnote Hatena series called Tales of LostClan, a Warriors fan series that I would say was the most obscure thing I’ve ever been super invested in. It was what got me into the actual Warriors books, and I liked it so much I redrew the animations into a comic... twice. Didn’t get nearly as far the second time but clearly my love for this little fanfiction had not waned after nearly a decade. I felt like drawing a book cover/movie poster for the series, just to get it out there and see how much I’ve improved over all that time.

Also I felt like making a vampiresona just before Halloween because I never dress up for Halloween in art (or real life anymore, for that matter), and I wanted to do something like that for once. It was short-lived but I really liked the design!

The focus of this month was definitely on Pokemon stuff. As per usual I contributed to the current Gotta Draw ‘Em All collab, and I was tasked to draw Regieleki. It was really fun to figure out how to make it stand out and look like it was made of electricity.

I also committed a lot of my spare time to my Fakemon Gym Leaders, as I had been working on bringing them to life in the past year or so now. As of this post, I’ve finished rendering their full body poses and gym badges, but I’m still working on completing all eight VS portraits, the first half of which are shown here.

I... didn’t draw anything this month, actually. What I’m showing here was worked on in the last few days but has actually been in progress for a couple of months, and I just finished it earlier today, in 2021. But I needed to show something off, and it’s also about time I mentioned it.

Back in October, I kept seeing people rave about this game called Genshin Impact, and I was interested but not so much as to start playing it... until my friends started playing and I was like “fuck it, let’s download it”. Since that day, I have been super immersed and in love with this game, to the point I came up with my own canon based on my gameplay experiences. This also included the creation of an original player character: Astra, the non-binary Traveller. And now, I’ve finally drawn them and brought them to life.

It has been one hell of a year. I had some of the highest highs and lowest lows in 2020, lots of changes, and I have now officially moved onto the next chapter of my life now that my time at university is finally over. I’m very excited for what 2021 has to offer, and I’m going to go forward with great ambition.

[synkiller82]

Begin Again

I participated in the Lukanette Secret Admirer Exchange, which released today.  Here is my submission for @mintiimagi.  I hope she and everyone else enjoys!  This was based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name.

Marinette took another look in her mirror, sighing at her reflection.  Her outfit was cute, a red sundress with a white flower pattern, white cardigan, and low-heeled, peep-toe red shoes.  However, she felt anything but cute.

“Marinette, hurry up girl!  We’re going to be late!” Alya called from the living room.

Sighing again, Marinette grabbed her purse and walked out of her room.  It wasn’t that she didn’t love Alya, she did, but she wasn’t looking forward to being the third wheel yet again when they met Nino for lunch.  She just wasn’t in the mood to be around couples, being reminded of what she lost almost a year ago, but Alya never took no for an answer.

As they walked toward the metro, Marinette made a decision.  Looking towards Alya, Marinette made a silent apology before stopping on the platform while Alya continued onto the train, her eyes trained on a message from Nino.  She would pay for it, she knew, but she really couldn’t do it today. Marinette walked back out of the station, sent apology texts to Nino and Alya, and made her way to her favorite cafe a few blocks away.

---

The owners greeted her kindly and went about preparing her normal order.  She smiled and thanked them before sitting at a small table near the window.  The cafe had a beautiful view of the skyline, with the Eiffel Tower standing tall and timeless in the distance.  Her order was delivered while she absent-mindedly sketched the tower, her mind wandering to the past.

It had been eight months since things had changed, and she didn’t know how to handle it.  It was like she was living in limbo, unable to move forward. Hawkmoth was gone, which should have been the best day of her young life, but it was a bitter-sweet memory.  She also lost her partner without knowing who he was, finding his ring and note at their meeting spot a few days after the final battle. Then Adrien announced he was moving to England to live with his aunt and cousin, as they were his closest relatives and he couldn’t bring himself to stay in Paris after everything that had happened.

Marinette was beginning to believe that, even with all her Ladybug luck over the years, that she would never find love.  That she was destined to be like Master Fu, a lonely Guardian with a lost love until it was time to give the Guardianship to someone else.  Marinette thought it would be better that way because then she wouldn’t leave her family without an explanation as to why she didn’t remember them.

A familiar, soft voice brought her out of her thoughts.  She looked up to see a pair of aqua eyes framed by blue-tipped black hair looking back at her, a concerned frown marring his handsome face.

“Luka,” Marinette squeaked, startled at his appearance.  “What are you doing here?”

“I was walking by when I saw you sitting here.  Your song is so sad today, and I had to stop to see if I could help,” he explained as he stood at her table.

She smiled a little, waving at the chair across from her as an invitation.  Luka had always been a sweet boy, supportive of her without pushing for anything more than friendship.  Marinette knew he had feelings for her, but she never let herself consider them while Adrien was around.  She was beginning to realize that she was a bit obsessive over the blonde. How many Lukas had there been in her life while she chased an unattainable dream?

“Would you like to talk about it?” Luka asked quietly as his coffee was delivered.  He sat patiently, as he always did, waiting for her to make the first move.

“Just overthinking things, like always,” she replied as she looked down at her book.  Next to the rough sketch of the tower stood a male figure, the beginnings of an outfit that already had a cat motif emerging.  She sighed. “Luka, do you think some people are just fated to be alone their whole life?”

Luka tilted his head to the side, considering her question.  “I don’t.” He watched as Marinette’s head snapped up, her melancholy eyes locking with his.  “We always have people around us, who love us in different ways. I don’t think anyone is alone by fate, but by choice.”

Marinette nodded, taking what Luka said to heart.  She had been pushing everyone away, keeping them at arm's length because of her secrets and her pain.  Maybe, just maybe, it was time to let someone in.

“Thanks, Luka.  I needed to hear that,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.  “So, how are things going for you?”

They spent the afternoon catching up.  Luka was back from touring with Jagged as a backup guitarist and had learned a lot about the music industry.  Jagged promised to get Luka an interview with Jagged’s record label since Luka’s sound was ‘rock and roll’. Marinette giggled fondly at the comment, knowing her pseudo-uncle loved the young musician.  Luka was also taking online classes in Music Theory to broaden his knowledge.

Marinette, on the other hand, was hard at work getting her Fashion degree from a well-known university near the apartment she shared with Alya, who was attending the same school for Journalism.  Marinette told him about her classes and how much she was learning. Her hands became animated as she spoke, only adding to her excitement, which Luka found himself quickly getting swept up in. He may not understand a lot of what she was saying, but he couldn’t help but listen with a sort of awe and fondness.  Marinette had always been the girl he wanted to date, maybe even marry one day, but he had stepped to the side when he realized she had eyes for one person, and that wasn’t him.

“Do you wanna walk around for a while?  I was thinking about heading to a nearby park,” Marinette asked shyly, which was a complete 180 from her earlier excited and bold speech.

“Sure.  I’d love to play for you again,” Luka answered just as shyly, motioning to his ever-present guitar sitting on one of the other chairs at the table.

“I’d love that.  It’s been so long since I’ve had a private concert,” Marinette remarked, standing and gathering her things.  She stopped abruptly, as her words sunk in, cheeks tinting a bright shade of red. “I mean, that is...not like a private, private concert.  You know, but just playing for me, alone. I mean, not alone…”

Luka placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her rush of words.  “I understand, Marinette. You don’t have to explain.” He held out a hand to her.  “Shall we?”

Marinette released the breath she had been holding, slung her purse over her shoulder, and took his hand in hers.  “We shall.”

---

The park they stopped in was a few blocks from the cafe.  The late spring air was warm on their skin as they sat on a park bench.  There were a few families around the playground, with kids running after each other and playing on the equipment.  Marinette was quietly sketching an outfit for Luka for his interview while Luka strummed on his guitar. He had noticed her song wasn’t as sad anymore, but not quite what it was the last time he had seen her.  He began to play what he heard, a beautiful melody, but with a bit of a sad undercurrent that spoke of loss and uncertainty. Something was still bothering his friend, but he would never pry. She got enough of that from her best friend.  Luka was patient. He could wait for her to come to him if she wanted to. He would be just as content sitting here in the comfortable bubble they found themselves in.

“What do you think?” Marinette asked, bringing Luka out of his thoughts.

He looked over the page.  The figure was dressed in a pair of distressed black skinny jeans, an aqua shirt, and a black hoodie, all with teal and black accents in a snake motif.  It was nicer than his usual look, but still looked comfortable and played to his style. Marinette always had a way of bringing a person’s personality and style into her designs, much like he was able to put a person’s feelings into music.

“It looks great, Marinette.  Where did you get the snake idea from?”

Marinette startled, trying to figure out how to explain she knew he was Viperion at one point, but then remembered the Miracle Queen incident.  She didn’t want to ruin the mood they found themselves in, so she decided to steer clear of it. After scrambling her mind, she found another reason.  “Well, you remind me of a snake. Quiet and hidden in the background, happy to be left alone. However, you will strike to defend those you love. Also, your music could charm even the most savage of beasts.”

Luka’s cheeks tinged pink at the compliment.  “Thanks, Marinette. That means a lot.”

“What was that song you were playing?  It was really pretty,” Marinette inquired, putting her sketchbook away after making a few notations about fabrics and a reminder to get Luka’s measurements.

“Oh, it was, uh” Luka began, not sure how to explain.  “It was the song I heard from you,” he finished quietly.

“That makes sense,” she replied quietly, placing a hand on Luka’s thigh.  “Could you play it again?”

Luka nodded and started playing.  Marinette once again got lost in the music, the sounds soothing something inside her heart.  For months, her thoughts had swirled with endings, disappointments, and loss. Now, she began to feel hope again.  A feeling that things would turn for the better, that the beginning was within reach if she had the courage and strength to grab it.  As the song finished, she opened her eyes slowly to see Luka looking at her, and she made a decision. One she should’ve made long ago.

“Hey, Luka?  Would you like to go to dinner sometime?” Marinette asked quietly, hope and nervousness lacing her voice.

“I would love to, Marinette.”  Luka reached up and cupped her cheek, watching her face for signs to stop as he slowly leaned in.  When she offered no resistance, instead of tilting her head slightly, he closed the distance between them.

Marinette gasped as Luka’s lips touched hers softly.  She moved her hands to his neck, playing with the fringe, before pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.  She pulled him back to her, smiling into the kiss as she realized that this was it. She was ready to let the past go, and with Luka, she would begin again.

[houseofvans]

ART SCHOOL | MICHAEL C. HSIUNG | VANS US OPEN 2018

Michael C. Hsiung has a special imagination, one filled with mermen, dragons, creative landscapes and intriguing narratives. His humorous illustrations will evoke your inner child and leave you wanting more. If only everyone could see the world through his eyes, maybe we’d live life a bit more light-heartedly. Now let’s dive into who this creative genius is and what he created on this year’s Vans US Open skate and BMX course.

Photographs courtesy of Ginger Caranto

What is your background? I was born in Chinatown, Los Angeles and raised in the San Fernando Valley. My folks emigrated from Taiwan to the US in the mid-late 70’s, and I grew up in Northridge where I discovered art, comic books, fantasy, skateboarding, Dungeons & Dragons and heavy metal. Now, I’m a self taught artist who has been lucky enough to draw and show my art to folks who hopefully like a good chuckle or two.

How did you get into art? My childhood was always filled with drawing, scribbling, and coloring books. I was always really stoked on comic book art, Dungeons & Dragons artwork, Pushead, Frazetta, Gorey and anything with skulls or dragons.

How did you start making art / what drives you to continue to do so? I grew up doodling, coloring, and using my imagination to play and have fun. So naturally I always kept a sketchbook or journal to record my thoughts through drawings or doodles. Tried endlessly to draw my own comic to no avail. Eventually I stopped drawing for a long time because I just didn’t think my drawings were good enough. I didn’t think I had the talent for it, so I stopped. Years passed . . .  I didn’t find myself drawing anymore, not until, I moved back to Los Angeles in 2007. I was hanging out with my old skate friends, and one of them was making art (Mike Stilkey - amazing artist), as was my sister, Pearl. They both encouraged me to draw with them while we chilled out from nights out on the town or when we were killing time. It was the perfect window for me to create and revisit drawing.

Eventually with enough encouragement through my friends and various random folks on the internet, I started to draw more and more. This eventually led to me showing work, taking on projects, and ultimately finding a purpose for myself. That was about 10 years ago, and it has been quite the ride. What drives me to continue has changed over the years, as I think it does for most folks who try and make a living doing art or freelance. It isn’t a easy career, though it may seem super fun and exciting, which it is of course. But also there’s what the reality is too– it is a lot of work, sacrifice and constant ups and downs. That being said, drawing is so much a part of who I am that while it has its challenges I know if I stopped, I’d be unsatisfied with life. I draw and make art to keep my sanity, and hopefully bring joy to folks who come across it.  

Who are your biggest influences? Hands down my older sister Pearl who is an amazing artist and painter. She was always drawing me things or painting my door with cool comic characters. Later on in life, she encouraged me to draw again, just for the therapy side of having an outlet.

What does your creative process entail? My process has changed over the years.  I used to just sit down, draw immediately, form ideas, and BOOM – that would continue for many years. Nowadays, I really have to find time and a spark or inspiration, then spend the hours sitting, pondering, sketching, and erasing before I even get to the point of wanting to pen in the lines. Sometimes I chuck things before they have even been half way finished. It is hard not to overthink what you do when you’ve been doing it for a bit, but I try and stay fresh by focusing on ideas and interests that inspire me. I also try and create a fun and relaxed environment in my studio with little to few distractions–almost as if to take me back to when I was a kid drawing just for drawing’s sake.

What is your most important artist tool? Is there something you can’t live without in your studio? My most important artist tool is my imagination. Growing up I was lucky to really have to use my own imagination to play and create worlds, which has helped me as an artist. Imagination and creativity is what gives life to my art.

Many of your drawings feature a hybrid animal. Who is this character and what does he represent to you? I think the first hybrid animals I started drawing were merman. I am fascinated by mythology and old tales, so I wanted to re-imagine what these creatures were like, who they were, and why the mermaids left them. I started to create these stories in my head, so I wanted to draw out my own narrative. I love reading and exploring the origins of mythological creatures such as centaurs, harpies, satyrs and then re-creating my own tales about them in the modern world or with modern vices. They allow me to explore the world in a different way as well as express my passion for cryptozoology, mythology, and fantasy.

Where do you find inspiration for your work? Inspiration is a strange thing, but I get inspired by things I read, strange facts, old books, sometimes movies, adventurers, old tales, friend antics, mythology, fantasy, crystals, nature, skateboarding and the list goes on. I try and let my mind find other interests that can inspire my work in a new direction.

How has your style changed over your career? When I started drawing again in 2007 my art was looser, naive, and more freeform but thematically I was drawing what I touch upon now. I was and am still drawing mermen, weird animals, and strange people. I’ve worked on honing my ideas, drawing with intention, and making my art cleaner, straighter and well executed. That’s what happens when you start to show art with other amazing artists - it makes you up your stuff!

Can you tell us about the mural you created for the Vans Park Series course? This year for the Vans Park Series course I created four different painted illustrated pieces–a bear skating on all his paws, a Slip-On shoe wizard, a mustached dude on a log board, and a bear with a sun hat on one as well.

The bear on the board is a character I’ve been drawing for a few years. She’s kind of a combo of a California State bear, a friend and a reference to my last name, which in Chinese translates to BEAR. Bet you didn’t see that one coming ha.

Well I’m super into wizards and super into Slip-Ons, so it was just a natural thing that came to being hah. I did that piece for my wife Rachel too! I even added some crystals for her since she’s a total rock hound.

The last character is just a rad cruiser dude who I imagine seeing all over town just laying back on his deck with his road soda. Just enjoying life.

What is your favorite part about painting a mural? My favorite part about painting the mural is when you see it getting shredded by all the amazing skateboarders!

What was the painting experience like working with multiple artists on the course? It’s such a great bonding experience when you’re painting a huge skate course in 3 days with other artists. I love seeing everyone’s approach, style and learning about their art and who they are.

It was my first time meeting Benjamn Marasco and Ellen Rutt, and I have to say those are some inspiring folks. They tackled their massive murals within tough conditions and never flinched.  I love that.

It is always fun to work alongside Jack Graydon! He’s the best. You wanna learn about spray paint? Jack’s your man. You need help with a color choice, Jack is the man!

Then it was a special treat to work with artist and bud Phil Morgan. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was real special. We helped keep each other on track and just like always bounce ideas off each other. Lots of time I feel like you’re working out your problems in the bowl with other artists. It’s fun!

Do you have a favorite memory from your time spent at the US Open? So many fun and memorable moments, but my favorite memory from the time in the park was definitely the last day when we were all finished with our murals and sitting together on the spine looking around and checking out each other’s pieces.  I mean you spend most of the time there focusing on your mural and painting that you don’t actually get to see each other’s work before it gets skated - so that end moment is special :)

What was the most challenging part of the mural you created? The most challenging part of the mural really is the weather (super hot in the bowl!) and painting on the transition. You don’t realize how many muscles start working until you wake up the next morning. Standing and balancing while trying to paint a straight line is probably the hardest part, but you learn to get loose and go with the flow. Let it flow!

Do you have any advice for people who have dreams of becoming an artist? My advice to people who have the dream of becoming an artist–if you have a great imagination, feed it with books, music, art, and play a board game once in a while.

Follow Michael on Instagram and check out his online shop here.

[a-day-at-once]

January entries #1 to #10

#1

January 1st, it seems.

There’s something rather archaic about writing in the first page of a journal while being bathed in nothing but the light of a candle. Normally I wouldn’t mind it much, it does set a mood, but as the lone flame flickers, so does my soul, out of the impaling feeling of pure, raw, suffocating boredom.

Archaic as it might be, Benjamin Franklin’s been dead for quite some time now and the current world revolves around the connection he found between lightning and tiny electric sparks, an energy that has been temporarily taken from us.

With the storm raging outside, there’s been a general blackout in this part of town. No internet, no television, no working electronic devices, just me and the apartment I’ve been neglecting to clean for way too long. I didn’t clean anything at all, mind you, I was just moving and kicking things around to ease my access to the ceiling fan with the chair I dragged behind me and the rope that I still have around my neck.

From a higher angle, my feet on the seat of the chair, a blur through the futile tears I blinked away; that’s how I spotted you, partially hidden under layers of discarded smelly clothing, inside a plastic storage box with the last remnants of proof that I’ve actually been to college at some point in this life of mine. A shame I didn’t graduate, but also not really? Art school can set you free as much as it can castrate your spirit.

But there you were, all faux leather cover, a gift cast aside at the time, but full of stories yet untold. Unwritten, rather. Am I talking to you or are you talking to me? Am I writing with the hopes of it being read, or so that I can figure out what I’m trying to tell myself?

I only noticed the passage of the year because the neighbors from downstairs helpfully screamed the countdown with an excitement I only wished I could share. I laid my shaky hands on you with seven seconds to go and made the decision to start writing at the exact moment they yelled “zero”.

Am I just lonely, diary? Simply sad? New Year is supposed to be about new beginnings, but in the darkness of a world that moves onto 2019 without light, your pages called for an entry. For what it’s worth…

You stopped me from ending right at the beginning.

I end this entry with the desk lamp flickering awake.

- @abyssiniana

#2

Hello Day 2.

Yesterday I didn’t think we’d meet, and now it seems so ordinary.

Went back to work today. Another thing I thought I was leaving behind. I was on shift with Susan again, and it seems like the holidays put her in a better mood. She had a lot to tell me about her boyfriend.

We had pretty heavy traffic. More than we expected. Some old man got kicked out for saying some seriously racist shit. Bless my manager. And fuck the elderly, I guess?

It was bright and cold on my way in. I walked along the canal. I watched someone try and fish their hat out with a stick for like 10 minutes (they did it!)

On the way home I got caught in the rain and got soaked.

Closing thoughts? This was sort of a shitty day, but hey, I’m still here. I changed into some dry clothes, I’ve got some music on and I’m snuggled up in a blanket.

I kept the rope. It’s in my desk drawer. Is that morbid? I think it’s to avoid denial. I’m also keeping the candles. The power’s on, but the candles are nice anyway.

See you soon, day 3.

- @mykumatt

#3

Day three. I wish I could say I was happy to see you.

I was off of work today. Most people hang out with friends, run errands, see a show, something else on their days off.

I usually sit and home and stare at blank canvasses and wonder what happened to me. I used to be good. I used to be something.

Am I really anything, anymore?

I eat. I sleep. I work.

Am I anything more than an automaton? Am I worth more than the money accrued with every beep of a barcode on a register?

Today, I couldn't sit inside and wonder if I'd ever become anything. Today, I went to ask the canal.

Cold and grey, it didn't have much to offer me that I didn't already know. I sat on a low wall beside the canal, almost a block from work.

The canal had my attention for all of moments. The surface was glassy, dark. Nothing swam within, nor did anything float on the surface.

I watched people instead.

One woman needed to get to the bank before it closed, I decided. She walked with purpose, long strides taking her quickly from my sight. A young man peered into the windows of a record store with his headphones on as he swayed to the beat. He was still home from college, looking for a last-minute gift for a roommate or a friend. An elderly couple toddled into a diner, the man holding his arm out for the woman, even though they both carried a cane. They've been married fifty years, kids long moved away. They eat breakfast together every morning.

Making up the story of someone else's life made mine seem more interesting. Sometimes, I wonder what people think when they see me on the streets. Am I still a student, in their eyes? Do I live with my parents? Do I have a family of my own? What if I'm a business owner, a chef, a politician, a poet?

Do they know that I'm nothing at all? When I looked back across the canal, I saw a man in nearly my mirrored position. He wore a black leather jacket and no hat or gloves. In one hand, he held a cigarette. In the other, a small, black book, much like you, dear diary.

He is a musician, I decided. His hands were lithe and his fingers slim, perfect for the piano or the guitar. In that notebook, he carried symphonies. He carried the next greatest rock album. He carried next week's one hit wonder.

Who knows?

Maybe he isn't anything. Just like me.

- hawkwarrd

#4

Day Four. Damn.

I didn’t really realize how boring my life has become until I started to do this. What do I even say? It wasn’t a bad day? I went to work, it was Friday, so it was busier than usual, but nothing truly awful.

Oh, and Susan told me today that the new person was hired yesterday while I was off. They start tomorrow, so that’s something exciting? Hopefully, we don’t get another Sean.

My Friday night was closing, and take out food at home. No plans with friends. No notifications on my phone. A single online order for falafel, and a cold dark walk back down the canal passing the glittering lights of restaurants and bars full of laughter and friends and dates.

I would feel ashamed to reach out to anyone at this point. I was the one that pushed them away, what right did I have to see my friends again, and pretend nothing is wrong? They didn’t do anything wrong, I ignored texts, I couldn’t go out places, I never reached out. The thing that was wrong was me.

Maybe I should get a cat.

Candles and canvases and white pages don’t talk back.

Neither do cats, but maybe I could actually feel like someone useful again. It’s a new year and just because the year feels impossibly long and lonely and scary—

Fuck. Fuck I hate that. While I want to get better, am I really committed enough to 2019? To taking care of something that long? I don’t even have a real plant in my apartment.

...Maybe a senior cat.

- @kearatheshadow

#5

Day 5.

I can't believe I actually managed to write here for five days in a row. Maybe I need to take it all out in writing, or maybe I just hope you'll be found one day, long after I'm gone, and that someone better than me will find you somehow interesting. I know I don't. I'm your writer after all, right?

I worked half day today. I didn't think I'd go to work, but I guess I needed an excuse to get up early. Last night I had some thoughts, some regrets. I thought about what I tried to do, and how I could feel that rope screaming at me from the drawer. Calling me a coward. Telling me that if I can't use it, I should at least do something with myself. Anything.

So I had to get out, you know? I couldn't hear it anymore.

Before work, I went to sit by the canal again with some coffee. I kinda like it.

It wasn't that bad today. Not too many customers. Most of the workers weren't in, so I had some peace and quiet. As much as most of them are pretty okay, I hate all of those rumors and gossips that always spread around. You can't say anything without everyone knowing about it 5 minutes later (especially Susan. She's nice but she's the most talkative person I've ever met. It's exhausting sometimes). That's why I don't talk much. Though to be fair, I don't talk much in general. The new guy was in today. He looked like he was nervous and shy, and mainly kept himself close to Greg, who was shift manager today. The poor guy had to hide his shaking hands behind him when he handled customers. Must be his first job, at least in this kind of job. But after some time, Greg told me to spend some time with him.

His name is Leo. And he's the most gentle person I've ever met. We didn't talk much, but I saw it right away. He saw me scribble on a random piece of paper and he really liked it. So I gave it to him, and he put it in his wallet.

I dunno why, but after I went back home, I wasn't so tired like I always am.

I didn't touch my sketchbook since dropping out of school. It's dusty, but somehow well kept.

Maybe I'll draw something later.

- @somegoodsheith

#6

I decided today would be a mental health day. Called Sylvia and the sweet old lady took my shift from me. I knew no matter what she would and take it because she’s so giving with everyone in the store. I feel like I manipulated her into taking it but goes to show I’m an awful person. Not like we didn’t know that already. Okay shit. We’re not doing this today. I’m treating myself well today, only good thoughts for now.

I took the bus into the city. I figured it was best not to lie in bed all day. I got onto the subway and yeah I sat there for a long time. Like a really long time. I tried to sketch a couple of people with the notepad I brought with me, but my mind was wandering too much so I threw it back into my bag. I rode the entire line to the original stop I started at.

I enjoyed it though. That feeling of just being. A city goer. Maybe someone who works nine to five. Someone who just. Lives their life without their minds chained to an abyss that’s barely trying to break free. They maybe worry about things like, paying bills on time and making it to their kids recital.

Just a regular cyclical life that doesn’t revolve around whether their brains decide to work or not.

I made it to an animal shelter and then got dinner and then went home. Kinda uneventful. I’m still thinking about a cat maybe. I don’t know. None of them particularly attracted me. Well I mean I did try and play with every single one of them. Just none that I felt I should take home. Because I don’t know maybe I don’t deserve it. I was surprised they had birds and turtles and fish there. Not as common as cat, dogs and rodents. But I don’t know my eyes were caught by this turquoise conure. She was very calm and interested in me and her eyes just had life as soon as walked in the room.

Birds are so beautiful and I love them so much. Just hard to keep. I would have to quit my job to even have time for a parrot. And I already spend so much time at home. I just couldn’t. I’m gonna keep looking around for cats though. I have the time and space and money.

I just. Need to stay alive somehow. Maybe a cat could do that. Just gotta find the one y’know

I think I might look at volunteering at the shelter some day. I don’t think that parrot is going anywhere anytime soon and I’d love to play with her and that way it would be easier for me to find a cat. Who knows.

- @technicolorfire

#7

Day 7 I’m feeling a bit better today. That mental health day truly helped out a lot! I’m thinking about treating Sylvia for lunch or something. I got to thank her somehow, but I’m still not 100% sure what to do. If I don’t do something, I’m going to feel the guilt anytime I look at her. Oh boy. At work today, Leo came up to me, nervously twiddling his thumbs. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper and pushed it into my hands before walking away. I opened it up and it was a drawing of me. Everything, from the hair to my eyes, was perfect. On the bottom it read, “You know, I used to draw back during my high school days. Your drawing really motivated me to try up that hobby again. I hope you and me can be friends. You might even be able to teach me something.” I don’t know what to say. I know dozens of people whose drawings are better than mine, so why is Leo paying any attention to mine? Whatever, I’ll take it. I’ll probably talk to him tomorrow, if he’s willing that is. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I did get a cat. A pure black female American Shorthair. I named her Ember, due to her fiery eyes. She’s a quiet one, mostly keeping to herself. Right now, she’s laying down on my bed, softly purring. I need to go to the pet store and buy her something before she rips the entire house apart. At least Ember lightens up the atmosphere. On my way out of the shelter, I grabbed a volunteer forum from one of the employees. In fact, it’s sitting next to Ember right now. At least now I can hope to make someone’s day better. New year, new me after all.

Well, until we meet again, diary.

-Tingle

#8

Do cats wear collars?

I ended up going to the mall before my shift to buy pet supplies and the thought entered my mind when I saw the aisle of shiny, multi-coloured pet collars in the store. The images of cats on the labels, ecstatic to receive the gift of Collar from Human, repeated across an entire wall of ApexCorp® Anti-Tick and Flea Cat Collars™ Dermatologist Approved.

Do cats have dermatologists.

I have never seen a cat wear a collar in my life. Not even on TV. Or maybe I have seen one before, on a cat food commercial? Who pays attention to those things anyway?

Do cats wear collars? The question, it haunts me.

I did not buy Ember a collar.

I stuffed the pet supplies onto my car's backseat (a secondhand Toyota Corolla my parents bought me for my 18th birthday - old but still trusty) — a litter box, two food bowls, a large pack of cat food to last at least a month or so, and a squeaky mouse toy. Not a collar in sight.

I returned to the mall, deciding to grab a bite to eat before I went to work in a few hours.  My shift today was supposed to be from 8 AM to 4 PM, but Sylvia (1-9 PM) asked us to switch since she had some errands later in the evening. Sure, fair enough. She did take my shift the other day, might as well return the favour. Not like I have much better to do in the evening.

I already spent most of my spare money on Ember's things, but a sandwich and maybe a milk tea won't hurt my wallet too bad. And it'll probably taste better than all the cup noodles and rice-plus-canned-something that had comprised my diet for the past several months. I deserve to treat myself every once in a while.

Right?

I strolled across the mall; when was the last time I actually went here? I didn't recognize most of the stalls anymore, and had forgotten where I used to eat all the time.

No point in thinking too deeply about it, I suppose. Thinking doesn't do me much good. I stopped by a café that only had three other customers and ordered a "House's Special" panini and, at the cashier's suggestion, an "Okinawa milk tea with tapioca, rock salt and cheese."

I have no idea what either of these are.

From across the café where I sat was International Bookstore. Oh, International Bookstore, with your overpriced erasers and purple pens that never seem to be in stock. The glass display presented a vast array of hardcover novels, alcohol markers and oil pastels, a medium I was never good at.

I stared at the art supplies, sipping my tea plaintively. I haven't made a serious artwork ever since I left school, my once diverse portfolio reduced to crude doodles at the back of receipts.

My impressive receipt collection was set to grow yet again as I scribbled behind the café bill with the half-empty pen I write grocery lists with.

I started with some abstract scribbles, trying to get a feel for the pen. The once black ink was nothing more than a faded gray now. I sketched out my lunch absent-mindedly, taking more time looking at the bread's dotted texture than my own work (Ah, food, the art student's favourite subject).

I continued eating (GOD this is good milk tea, thanks cashier person), stopping every few bites to draw again, the progression of my food as it was being consumed laid out on the paper until all that was left to draw were bread crumbs and an empty cup.

This could be symbolic for something, but I'm not really sure.

- cordaello

#9

I can’t believe it took me a full day to understand Leo’s joke when I asked him if he was planning to grow a beard. “Maybe. Who knows? I used to not like facial hair but it grew on me.” I just… thought he didn’t have a razor.

By the way, I forgot to write about my conversation with Leo yesterday (the first thing I thought of doing was sticking that receipt doodle on my diary and my mind threw any other detail that happened that day out of the window).

I’ll just quickly skim over what happened yesterday. He’s a quiet, shy guy who avoids talking to people if it’s unnecessary. He’d rather watch and observe. Didn’t get to chat with him until our break time since I didn’t really want to disturb him while we were working. Sheepishly, I started small talk between the two of us which somehow sidetracked into a long discussion about BBC’s hit detective rom-com show, Sureluck played by the loveable Bandersnatch Cucumber. There was something about the uncovering mysteries that fascinated both of us. Maybe it was the idea that there’s something more to the things that happen around us, a hidden explanation. That or it was just wishful thinking; we wanted to belong to a scheme bigger than all of us, to be worth more than what we think we are.

Or maybe it’s Bandersnatch’s sexy cheekbones. Maybe…

Honestly, Leo’s such a precious kid. He’s still pretty young, just turned 18 and recently moved from Michigan to this place where nothing extraordinary happens (unless you count the disc of lights that disappear after a few seconds above Dale University). He rents a small apartment a few blocks from the store.

I thought it’d be nice to show him around; after all, he’s new here. So after today’s shift I asked if he wanted to go to Ravensons Mall and grab something to eat, maybe sit on one of the benches at the nearby park for cats.

Do cats have parks. “Um, sure, I’d love to go,” he answered with a small smile. “It’s not like there are people waiting for me to get home.”

Beneath that smile I could hear a tinge of melancholy in his voice and I felt a little bad for him. This kid was me a couple of years ago. This kid is me now, scared and reluctant in this jungle of people bustling around minding their own businesses, and I alone.

Alone.

Maybe Leo didn’t have to feel the same way. Maybe I could be a friend to him. Maybe…

After the shift we got into my car and drove to Ravensons. WcDonalds was packed with people and Leo seemed agitated at the overwhelming business of the fast food chain so I ordered us each a burger and a cup of soda to go, and left the busy place.

Leo seemed to calm down when we got to the park. We watched as people walk by. We watched families that had small picnics on the grass under the shade of the big trees — the only trees you’d see in this place.

There were no signs of cats whatsoever.

Leo told me about Michigan and how he and his friends would have long road trips in and out of the state in his friend Brad’s pickup truck. There was something peaceful about driving across miles and miles of land, especially at night, and being alone in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe we should go out on a road trip someday. -realcakkuu

#10

Ember woke me up a little before my alarm went off. I suspect I will eventually transcend the need of setting up the alarm at all; for a cat without one of her front paws, she sure pounces hella hard on my stomach at six twenty in the morning exactly. I can’t decide if I prefer waking up to her demand of food or Gary Moore’s guitar solo.

The cat decided for me.

I fed her. She likes the extravagant salmon food I can barely afford, because of course she does; for an animal who was rescued from the streets, she sure was picky with her Purina Fancy Feast. After the bowl was empty she staggered towards me to rub herself on my leg in what I can guess is appreciation.

I very damn well hope it is appreciation.

Do cats have that sort of feelings towards inferior beings such as humans?

I petted her, though. Cute.

I made a good pot of coffee for myself, but then opened my fridge to realize I hadn’t bought milk in weeks. I burned my toast but ate it anyway; anything goes down my mouth with enough peanut butter. I may or may not have forgotten to pay the water bill, but I’m fairly certain I did (one day past the limit, is a fact). I think they just cut the hot water because they’re complete sadistic unforgiving assholes. I showered anyway. I masturbated. I couldn’t even tell how long it had been since I last did it but I can’t say it felt... particularly good. Mostly made me feel fourteen again, self-discovering without the concern of being caught by my brother in the upper bunk bed.

I uh. Shouldn’t have done that.

In the momentary bliss I forgot time was a constant moving variable and clocked in eleven minutes late at work. My boss hates me. The clients hate me because god forbid they have to form a line in the parking ten minutes before opening time.

Today was the day I decided I absolutely despise Thursdays.

I realize this every week. I do. But I hated today specially because Thursday is Leo’s day off. I don’t know what I was expecting, the kid deserves his days off as much as me or anyone else does. He didn’t miss out on anything too critical except the ridiculous amount of clients that seemed to be waiting for the final twenty minutes of my shift to grab every item from the nearest shelves and throw them on the absolute opposite end of the slooowwwlyyyy rooooolliiiiiinnnngggg conveyor belt, as if I have all the time in the world, and they THINK I want to argue about the promotion we had last week but don’t have this week but they WANT it this week too, but I have to explain that promotions are like every single fucking thing in life, fucking TEMPORARY, WOMAN, GET A MOVE ON AND PAY FULL PRICE FOR A BLOODY CAN OF SAUSAGES.

Ah, Thursdays are inventory day. I didn’t leave the goddamned supermarket before midnight, and I’m honestly cheating you, dear diary, because it’s the eleventh already and I only just managed to sit down and rage write today’s events.

Ah but… before going to bed, I should add something.

I found something in my locker when I went to pick up my jacket. I didn’t notice it upon arriving in the morning, nor when I went to grab some money for lunch, but this was right on the door, at the level of my eyes, a post it note with a little message. Was it put there yesterday night? Sometime during the day?

- @abyssiniana

[t3a-tan2]

Happy Birthday Sean!

Now- I know this sounds cheesy but I'mma share my own experience,,,

I've never gotten along with other people

Not in real life

No one liked me, and I never liked myself because of it. Despite all the beating I received from other kids my age, I would never hit back. Unfortunately- my half fierce and half kind personality left people confused.

And so kids would tie me up, hit me, break my things, scribble over my drawings, leave me all alone.

I never had much technology growing up- my family was poor. My dad was always working, and my mom had a disability that didn't allow me and my brothers- as children- to go out into the busy streets just to play in a park.

I began getting anxiety- and in turn I actually got physical damage done to me from stress.

I've gone to the hospital over and over through out the years, just because I would get such horrid stomach aches, and head aches because of how much my life was screwed- but ya know that even then, I had a positive attitude.

This was all before I was even double digits in age.

I strived hard in life- trying to accomplish things that would allow people to look up to me. I wanted to be a hero and have an impact on the world but... That's not really how life works

Every time I accomplished something even remotely good- like winning an art competition, or being the fastest, having good grades on everything- the bullying increased ten fold.

Classmates stole my things and tore up my sketchbooks, threw away my coats- that my family could barely afford anyway

Hell, we couldn't even buy a house back then. We had to rent one every year- which left me constantly nervous.

One day, my dad came home- I was 9 at the time- and gave us good news. He had a job offer, but we'd have to move continents and move away from our family to live comfortably.

My parents knew about my bullying situation- they always spoke to me about it and helped me with it. No matter what was going on, if any of us were upset then they were there. My school wouldn't allow them to take me out of it, so mom and dad chose to change their lives and my brother's because at the state of mind I was in? I was barely ten, and I had already attempted to jump in front of a car and kill myself, or try to take too much medicine and overdose- I just couldn't bear living such a horrible reality

So we moved.

The first thing we were able to get when we moved, was our own house! And us kids were all running about in the much larger place- thinking of games and going out in the non-busy streets to make friends!

It didn't stay happy for long. School started

At first, me and my brother's were popular. We were those 'british kids'. I drew for people and I went to clubs

But soon enough, the bullying came again.

Only much worse.

I was only 10- and two people had tried to actually kill me. In both cases I almost died.

The first case, a kid in my class tried to strangle me to death with the chain of a swing set. None of the teachers tried to stop it- claiming that they 'couldnt help at that time'. I lost consciousness soon after another kid- who luckily had morals- came to save me.

The second case, my older brother's friends in our neighborhood beat me up and buried me completely in snow. I couldn't get up... My older brother found me- thanks to one of my gloves having fallen off nearby- and carried me home. I luckily only suffered mild frostbite on my face, but I have a fear of the snow. I just can't go outside in the winter without getting extremely nervous and upset. My brother immediately stopped talking to those two friends when he found out.

None of these horrid people got a punishment. Even after beating me, and attempting murder, EVERYTHING. But it was alright. My family loved me, so I kept on living. They had done so much to help me, that it would just be selfish for me to let their efforts go to waste.

We moved out of the neighborhood.

I was given the opportunity of online schooling.

Soon after, we went to visit family and friends in England. It didn't end well...

See, I did have a 'friend'. But she was manipulating me... She would actually touch me when I was younger, and do it all the time. I was so desperate for someone to call a friend that I didn't stop to see that she might have that title, but she never once deserved it.

All those times where I'd been beaten, she'd watch.

Any time I tried to get help, she'd steal away the chance.

Whenever I got even a little money to spend, I would spend it on her. Because I wanted so desperately for someone to just like me.

So, when I was 11, she did something that scarred me for life. She just waited for me a few her to be alone in a hotel room together, since the adults had gone out for a few hours. And she began putting videos of highly explicit things on full volume- forcing me to listen.

And the whole while she just kind of held me in an inappropriate manner, just touching me.

She was only a year older than me- God only knows why she did this to me.

My family never leaves me alone with anyone anymore...

But when we came back to America, I was a broken broken child. No friends. No will to live. I would lean off of a flight of stairs, wondering how easy it might be to just fall.

And then I found you, Jack.

You just made me smile- and laugh. Something I hadn't been able to do genuinely for so long.

I had no friends. But it was okay..

All I needed was a positive mental attitude and I was alright.

I'm only 13 now, but you want to know what's happened since you saved me from myself?

I improved on my art

I continuously spread words of positivity to others, and offer guidance and support

I learned who I want to be

I realized what i want to do

This year I'm even getting an actual job-

And I'm still recovering from a surgery to fix a disability that I developed- and I'm rocking!

So thank you.

Thanks for everything you've done

And congratulations @therealjacksepticeye for turning 29 UwU

[choking-on-tae]

Finally, I’ve found you

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Word count: 4.2k 

Summary: “The only place a person can see their soulmate is in their dreams. Depending on where each person lives in the world, the dream becomes clearer when both people become closer to each other. What happens when you finally find your soulmate?” 

Genre: Soulmate AU

Ratings: Angst, Fluff. 

Author’s note: I once saw a summing up of what a soulmate AU with Jungkook would be like and got inspired to write this. Gif isn’t mine. x 

As you opened your eyes you saw a playground. It had a couple of swings and a slide, it wasn't that big actually. What caught your eye was a little boy, probably around the age of 5. He looked adorable as he was swinging back and forth. His little hands tightly gripping unto the bars. He was smiling and laughing loudly as he seemed to have the time of his life.

Suddenly everything went black before you arrived somewhere else.

It was the same boy, although now he was older. Maybe around the age of 8? He was walking through a hall which looked oddly familiar to a school hall in his adorable uniform. He had his backpack hugged tightly to him, a little iron man toy sticking out of it. Two other little boys ran past him, pushing him over in the process. You felt bad for the little boy who struggled to get up, quickly grabbing his iron man toy and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Tears prickled down the little boy's face as he finally walked through the doors, exiting the school. You felt your heart melt at the sight. He just looked so cute and you wanted to protect him from the mean boys who pushed him over. His eyes lit up once he saw the beautiful cherry blossoms on his way home. He sat down underneath them as he got out his small sketch book and a pencil.

He leaned against the three as he started sketching. You could see that he was drawing the three, and did a pretty good job at it for someone his age. Whoever this boy is he's just as artistic as you are. He placed the iron man toy beside him as he smiled at the small figure. Showing a cute smile which resembled a bunny in some sort of way. He was very cute.

Suddenly everything went black again, before a new decor appeared.

It was the same boy again, probably around the age of 12 now. He was in what looked like his room. Sketches and drawings everywhere as he was sitting on his bed, eagerly drawing something. You noticed the Iron man collection in the cupboard. He definitely seemed a big fan of superheroes. He still looked cute and passionate. He seemed to really relax when he was drawing, which is something that you experience yourself too.

The cute boy turned his head to his computer where an Anime was playing. You didn't recognize which one but it looked nice. He kept drawing while watching it. This time he decided to draw his famous role model; Iron man. The drawing looked amazing and was very detailed. He was obviously very talented in what he was doing, and he enjoyed watching Anime, something you enjoy doing too. He quietly sang along with the theme song and it sounded surprisingly good. His voice sounds like that of an angel. Wow.

The darkness returned for a moment until you saw the same guy, but this time he was even older. He must be around your age now as he was sitting in a class, painting a portrait of himself. He had sketched himself first with charcoal but now he was painting over it with bright colors. It looked amazing. He must have a major in Arts, considering how good he is. You focused on the guy, since he wasn't a boy anymore. He was slowly becoming a man, a very handsome man to say the least.

Built to perfection, chiseled jawline, strong arms and thighs, fuck he's hot to say the least. A guy who's hot, cute, and creative? Damn that really sounds perfect to you. He seemed so focused on his work. Like he was really caught up in it. It was obvious that being creative was his outlet and it probably helped him a lot too, especially since he got picked on when he was younger.

It got black again before the guy was suddenly standing right in front of you.

This time he looked older, maybe a year of 2. Now you could really take a proper look at him. He looked beautiful yet handsome. Strong yet soft. He was a little taller than you and he seemed a bit shy, yet bold. He looked like the perfect combination of everything. Whoever this is you really wanted to meet him. You reached your hand out to touch him when everything went black again.

You shot up straight in bed, immediately glancing at the clock. It was 10 in the morning. Who was this guy and why were you seeing him in your dreams? Did your mind make up this imaginary person or is this person your soulmate? But it's so clear.. wait.. does that mean your soulmate is here in South Korea?! You think back at the dreams your mom told you about and the ones you read online. Soulmate dreams always go back a long way. It always shows what the person looked like when they were little and then up until how they look now.

Could that mean that this guy is your soulmate? Your thinking gave you a light headache, so you quickly got out, took some medicine and turned your phone back on. You didn't have a lot planned for today, so you decided to just take it easy. You slipped on a pair of skinny jeans, a pink t-shirt and made sure your hair looked okay. You didn't bother to put on some makeup since you didn't really plan on doing a lot today. You quickly made yourself some breakfast before sitting down on the couch and turning the TV on.

The guy was still fresh in your memory. Maybe you can try to draw him, so it won't fade away. You quickly grabbed your sketchbook and pencils before you started to draw. You started with how he looked when he was little. You sketched the playground and drew the little boy that was swinging on the swing. A big smile plastered on his face. It took you about an hour to finish that, which was pretty fast even for you. You smiled happily at the drawing as you laid it down on the table. You quickly ripped off a new piece of paper and started the second drawing.

The cute little boy with his iron man toy, underneath the beautiful cherry blossom. This drawing would be a bit bigger, since it has more details and all of that. If there's one thing in the world that you really love to do is drawing. You absolutely adore it. You really tried to nail all the details and it turned out surprisingly well. The shadows were perfect, it looked insanely realistic. It was almost like you had taken a photo of the screen caption in your dream and put it on paper. You've always been good at drawing but were never able to draw anything so realistically.

As you finished the drawing you placed it next to the other. The boy looked utterly adorable, drawing underneath a tree with the iron man toy next to him. You decided to skip the drawings of the boy in his room and him drawing in his class and went right away to the memory of him standing right in front of you, since you remembered that one the best. You turned the page so you had an empty one and softly started sketching. You really hoped this one would turn out to be just as good as the other ones. You used a lot of different pencils, trying to make it as realistic as possible.

You used another piece of paper to cover your hand so it wouldn't turn grey and you wouldn't smudge it everywhere. As you've learned from experience that happens if you don't do that, and fucking this drawing up was the last thing you want. You really tried to draw it as best as you could, and you were blown away when you finished it. You've drawn a lot of portraits, but they usually weren't that realistic. Sure if you knew the person you'd recognize them but otherwise you probably wouldn't. This one however, this looked fucking amazing!

You had told your cousin about your dream and she immediately asked you to describe what he looked like, so you snapped a photo of your drawing and send it to her. I mean what better way to explain it than to show it, right? You quickly put the pencils back and looked at the drawings that were lying in front of you. You snapped a photo of all three of them together before putting your phone back in your pocket. Is it normal to be this fascinated by a possible soulmate? You shook it off as you grabbed yourself something to drink.

A few hours later you decided to make a quick walk. You were here in Seoul after all might as well make the best out of it, right? Since the weather was nice, you didn't bother to wear a coat and just put on your hoodie. You were walking around for a bit when you felt like someone was following you. You turned around and saw someone with a black hood. Weird? You shrugged it off and continued walking. About a minute later the feeling was still there. As you had made a couple of turns you realized that the person was indeed following you.

You quickly turned around again and started running. You heard the stranger's heavy footsteps which means that they were running too. You saw a 7/11 store and quickly ran in, at least there's people there. The owner looked surprised when you came running in, and you couldn't blame him. You still politely bowed at him as you tried to catch your breath. Suddenly you felt someone taking a hold of your wrist, you wanted to scream but it got caught in your throat when you saw who the person was. He took off his hood and there he was, the guy you saw in your dreams. Another voice interrupted your little intimate stare down.

"119, I'd like to report an emergency."

You two quickly turned to the owner of the shop and you started to explain everything.

"No wait everything is fine! She's my soulmate! I was just trying to catch up with her!" He spoke in a rush. Obviously not wanting to give the owner the wrong idea.

His voice was quite low, but it sounded nice and calming.

"He was. Really it's okay." You assured the owner, who quickly mumbled an apology before hanging up the phone.

You turned back to the guy in front of you. He looked even better in person.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Jungkook." He flashed you a bunny smile as he reached his hand out to you.

You stared at it for a second before you gently shook his hand, giving him a warm smile in return.

"I'm Y/N."

"Y/N, it suits you." "Thank you."

You two kept staring at each other with awkward smiles on your faces, obviously still shocked about what just happened. Is this guy really your soulmate? You wondered as you took in his appearance. He was wearing a pair of black jeans with some holes in it. A white t-shirt and a black hoodie over it. He looked great to say the least. While you were checking him out he did the same to you. Jungkook was completely mesmerized by your beauty and the fact that you were real. He simply couldn't believe that the girl he dreamt about and drew was now standing right in front of him.

He could see you with his own eyes, could touch you, hold you, kiss you. He could do everything he wanted, with your permission of course. The first thing Jungkook did this morning when he woke up was searching his sketchbook and drawing the girl he saw in his dreams. He never had clear dreams. They were always blurry, which assured him that his soulmate was somewhere across the world. He secretly hoped it wouldn't be too far but he didn't come any closer when he went to Japan or Dubai, so he figured it'd be even further than that.

Unlike you, Jungkook had always been obsessed with the idea of having a soulmate. His parents told him about it when he was a little boy. As seen in your dreams he got picked on when he was younger. He'd always come home crying, and his parents tried everything to cheer him up. They bought him his favorite candy, his favorite toys and even took him to theme parks he always wanted to go to, but nothing could make the sad little boy feel better. At least until his aunt mentioned soulmates.

Being curious at heart, little Jungkook wanted to know more about this, so his mother explained everything to him. She told him about soulmate dreams and that the clarity of your dream depends on how far your soulmate is away from you. Considering his dreams had always been blurry, his parents figured that his soulmate would be across the world. The possibility that the little boy had a soulmate that was made just for him, that would fit perfectly with him and would love him no matter what made him smile again.

His parents couldn't be happier that their son finally had a reason to smile again. Thinking about his soulmate made little Jungkook stronger. Instead of ignoring the bullies like he used to do, he spoke up to them. He figured that he'd make his soulmate proud if he did that. It ended the bullying, which he was really happy with. His parents saw a total new side of their son, and they couldn't be happier with that. Looking back at it they should have told him much sooner, but they weren't sure how to address the topic. Luckily for them his aunt did that for them.

Over the years Jungkook kept being fascinated by his soulmate, although he knew absolutely nothing about them. He didn't know their gender, their nationality, absolutely nothing. He found himself drawing random people, thinking about what his soulmate possibly could look like. When Jungkook was on vacation in Dubai he was disappointing when the dreams were still really blurry. So he figured his soulmate was even further than that. He and his cousin talked about going on a trip to Europe. His cousin has already met his soulmate and they've been dating for 3 years now.

He knew how much Jungkook's soulmate meant to him so he agreed on the plan. All there was left to do was save some money and buy the tickets. However, none of that is needed anymore since he just found his soulmate. He couldn't wait to tell his cousin about this.

"How long are you staying here?" He asked out of nowhere.

You were surprised by his question, but you figured he knew that you were from across the world and that you weren't staying here forever.

"I'm leaving in a little over 3 weeks, unfortunately, because so far I really like it here in Seoul." You answered him with a bright smile.

"I know this might sound a bit crazy but do you wanna go to my place? I've this little studio here in Seoul and it's not too far from here."

"Sure. Let's go." You smiled at him.

He instantly took your hand as you exited the store and walked down the quiet streets of Seoul. In any other world this would have been absolutely crazy; going home with a stranger. But this stranger is your soulmate, so you could trust him. The feeling of his hand in his made you really comfortable. Your hand fit perfectly in his, like you two were made for each other, which you technically were.

"Where are you from actually?" He asked, holding your hand tighter as he sped up his pace.

It was starting to get dark already, which was in contrast with yesterday. It's about dinner time now and it's already getting dark while yesterday it didn't get dark until 8 pm.

"I'm from (Your country)." You answered, wrapping your other hand around his arm as you nuzzled closer to him.

You felt strangely comfortable around him even though you just met. Maybe it was the soulmate thing after all. Jungkook didn't seem weirded out by it at all, in fact he seemed more than happy with the sweet gesture and you clinging unto him. He thought you were very cute when he first laid eyes on you, and this only proved his point.

"That's pretty far. I figured you were from around there since my dreams didn't get any clearer when I was in Dubai. My cousin and I were planning on making a trip to Europe actually." He spoke in a calm voice as he searched his pockets for his keys.

"Really?" You didn't even try to hide the surprise in your voice, which made your voice come out really high pitch.

You instantly felt your cheeks turning pink, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing but Jeongguk actually thought that it was really cute. He opened the door and let you in first, being a real gentleman. As you looked around the apartment you noticed the home-like feel it had. You could live here actually. You instantly took off your shoes as you walked around. Jeongguk did the same as he followed closely behind you. Suddenly something caught your eye. As you looked at the salon table you noticed a sketch book and some drawings.

"What's that?" You asked, not waiting for an answer you walked over and felt your eyes grow wide when your saw the drawings.

"Euhm.. I dreamt about you last night and I didn't want to fade the memory so I drew you. It's not that good really but yeah, that's you." He answered, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Oh my god." You quickly opened your backpack to grab the drawings that you made of him and put them on the table. He instantly sat down next to you, gently taking some of the drawings in his hands.

"Wow. These are so detailed." Jungkook flashed you a shy smile as he studied the drawings more.

"So are yours. You're really talented." "So are you!"

You shyly tugged a stray of hair behind your ear as you looked back at his drawings of you. You were completely mesmerized by them. You have never considered yourself as 'pretty' but you might consider it now judging by his drawings of you. It looks so realistic but really beautiful at the same time. You definitely recognized yourself, that was for sure.

"I think I know why we're soulmates." You mumbled as you placed his drawings back on the salon table, where they were.

"I think so too." He smiled fondly at you, before turning to the kitchen.

"Uh do you wanna drink something? Or eat something maybe, since it's dinner time."

You could definitely tell that he was nervous and shy, just like you. He was a combination of both shy and bold, exactly like you are. You have your moments just like he probably has his. This could actually work.

"Can I have some water? And do you have anything to eat here?" You asked, getting your phone out as you heard a message coming in.

"We can order pizza. Do you like pineapple on it?" "Yes."

"Great. I'll order us pizza then." He gave you that shy smile again before dialing the number and ordering the food.

Jungkook came back with your water as he sat down next to you, making you feel comfortable again. His cologne was strong but not too, you found yourself really liking the smell of it.

"I texted my family and cousin that I met you. Can’t wait for their reactions" He told you with a bright smile as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

He clearly was getting more comfortable around you, and you absolutely loved it. You felt like you could be comfortable around him too, and you were. You found yourself staring into Jungkook's beautiful dark brown doe eyes a lot, which didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Am I that handsome that you can't look away?" He asked with a smug smirk showcasing on his face.

You were surprised by his cockiness, but it made you smile nonetheless.

"I just really like your eyes. They're so big and cute. It makes you look like an adorable puppy."

He chuckled at your words before throwing his head back in laughter. His laugh sounded like music to your ears, and you found yourself slowly falling for the brown haired boy next to you.

"I really like your eyes too. They're a really pretty color. I've never seen eyes like yours, they've very unique."

You felt yourself blushing furiously at his compliment as you hid your face behind your hands, making him laugh. He welcomed it by pressing a kiss to your head as you saw Jungkook smiling fondly at you. Oh how you were falling for this boy. Little did you know that he was falling just as hard for you.

"What brought you to South Korea?" His voice broke the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you.

"It's quite a long story actually." You mumbled, gripping unto his shirt as you nuzzled your head against his strong chest.

"We still have some time before the pizza arrives." He told you as he wrapped one arm around you and ran his fingers through your hair with his other hand that wasn't tracing patterns on your side.

"Okay, uhm. I don't really know how to say this so I'm just gonna do it."

"It's okay, you can tell me. I'm here." He assured you, which instantly made you feel a bit better.

"I've had quite a rough time the past few years. I've been really depressed, suicidal even and went into therapy. My psychologist told me that it's something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life. Of course it won't be as bad as it used to be but I'll definitely have days where I'll just feel very down."

"Wow."

He stayed quiet for a few seconds, which really worried you.

"Jungkook?"

"How are you now? Is that why you decided to come here? To travel and find out more about yourself?" He asked as he made you look him.

You quickly nodded at him as you clutched his t-shirt tightly in your fist.

"Yeah. I came here all by myself because that's something I've always wanted to do. I didn't expect to find you here. I know this is a lot to take in and that I've a lot of issues. I'm not asking you to be there for me when I need someone but-"

"-Why wouldn't I be there for you when you need someone? I'm your soulmate and I really like you." He interrupted you.

His words made you tear up a bit, which didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Hey it's okay. I'm here for you Y/N."

You tightly wrapped your arms around him as he rested his chin on top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you too, making you feel safe. Your intimate moment was interrupted by the doorbell. Signing the arrival of the pizza. He gently brushed your hair out of your face before pressing a kiss against your nose.

"I got to open the door baby. I'll be back."

You nodded at his words, letting him get up when you realized that he called you 'baby'. You felt your cheeks heat up and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Jungkook quickly opened the door, gave the pizza guy the money before closing the door again and placing the pizza on the salon table in front of you. It looked absolutely delicious to say the least, and it smelled delicious too.

"Oh my god that smells so good." You practically moaned as you grabbed a slice.

He watched you with a bright smile before taking a slice himself. You both took a bite at the same time, letting the delicious flavors erupt into your mouth. "Oh wow."

He smiled at your reaction as he took another bite himself.

"It's good right?"

"So good."

You two finished the pizza in no time, being quite hungry after all. You spend the rest of the night talking to each other about your lives and issues. Jungkook seemed surprisingly okay with your mental issues. He accepts that sometimes you'll have days where you'll feel worse than others, and days where you're totally fine. He said that he wants to be there for you, even though you'll be on the other side of the world.

You glance at the clock that was hanging in his living room and felt your eyes growing wide when you saw how late it was. It was already 11 pm and pitch black outside, fuck.

"Oh my god it's so late. I-I should go back." You quickly got up only to be pulled back again by Jungkook.

You ended up on his lap, your back pressed against his chest.

"It's 11 pm. It's probably better if you stay the night here and go back tomorrow. There's no way I'm letting you go outside when it's this dark." He said, wrapping his arms around you to prove his point.

"I don't have anything here."

"I've a spare toothbrush and you can use my charger to charge your phone. You can wear one of my shirts to bed, since they'll probably be big on you."

"Are you sure?" "Yes. I insist."

"Okay."

[spanglerscribbles]

Sticky Notes on My Face.

Considering what is going on in the world at this point, I thought I’d share I bit of my personal history regarding a certain psychological battle (albeit still ongoing) that I’m sure many of you will relate to. No politics here. This will be a safe space. Plus, I need to write this out and get it off my chest. I figured those who read this will get a better understanding of the human being behind the screen and/or find out more about themselves after reading my story. 

I want you to pay close attention to this next paragraph. 

I’m the first born child in my little family, and soon became an older sister to my baby brother after 3 years of waddling on planet earth. As I grew up, I was homeschooled. Despite the social stigma regarding this private system, it’s made me who I am today. I would go back and do it all over again. I was raised by my mom and dad, my mom being a highly esteemed worship leader at our local church, and my dad being on staff at said church as the kid’s ministry pastor. I would have been around 10 when they got these positions. I followed after my mom’s footsteps and joined our youth group’s worship team as a singer. Later, I began to discover a more creative side of myself. I’m an artist, in the general term. To narrow it down, I am in the visual arts, dappling in graphite and digital mediums. But to be even MORE specific, as I grew older I became a conceptual developer, character designer, digital illustrator, graphic designer, animator, screen writer, and creative director, to name a few. I am now a graduate of Kalamazoo Valley Community college, with a degree in animation with honors. Currently, I am nearing the end of production for my first collaborative, animated short film that will release in the coming months. 

Wonderful. Now that I’ve talked about myself, I want you to do something for me. Count all of the titles I have stated in the segment above. Adding the obviously worded statements plus the one’s loosely mentioned… that’s 17.

17 titles mentioned about myself. Out all those 17, which stood out to you the most? Which sounded more appealing to you? Were they intriguing? Relatable? Likable? 

Whether we like it or not, we are all labeled. There will always be some aspect of us that people identify with as soon as our name is mentioned, and it will always have a name. 

I want you to think up a list of all the titles and labels others have given you or that you’ve given to yourself. Think up as many as you can. A contractor, Pastor’s kid, singer, university student, doctor, engineer, couch potato, foodie, pretty, ugly, football player, band geek, hyper, emo, conservative, liberal… 

It could be a small list or an extensive list. Think of all of yours? Great. 

Who would you be if they all just went away? 

Photo by Kelsey Wilson

Are These Labels What Really Define Me?

I want you to go back to the list of my own titles. There were plenty to choose from such as homeschooler, worship leader’s kid, pastor’s kid and artist. Those were the labels I was known for growing up. 

When my family moved to Michigan and started going to our awesome local church, I had to start my life over. I was a fresh face, a newbie. I had to start making new friends, but I didn’t know how. I grew up with friends already by my side back in Indiana. Meeting new people and befriending them was a foreign concept to me at the time. 

But soon, kids and adults alike began to address me as Karen’s kid or Brad’s kid… since my parent’s faces were quickly becoming well known in the community. Which, for some reason, made me popular. I befriended other PKs (pastor’s kids) while my dad was on staff. I remember two or three kids in particular I gravitated towards during those first few years in the mitten state. We would often stay in church all day on Sunday because of our parent’s pastoral obligations, so we would run up and down the office space and just be goofy kids. 

I was homeschooled from 1st grade onward, which was another label I was recognized for as I went into middle school. I never went to co-op, or went to many outside classes with others in the homeschool community, so all of my friendships were cultivated in our church’s youth group. Everyone knows once you go into middle school, things start to change… everywhere. Kids start to judge things they don’t understand a little more harshly than before. So a lot of the kids I tried to be friends with picked on me for having that label. So for a long time, I tried to suppress that and make my PK status more prominent. 

But I was in middle school now and my dad wasn’t overseeing these grades. So that title was only visible to a select group of kids along with the adults in my life who respected my parents. With my credibility gradually declining, I had to find another title that would help maintain what social status I had. So I started bringing my sketchbook to youth group with me. 

Kids were drawn to me like a moth to a flame. It was like I had these sticky notes on my face that listed all the titles I had in my possession that molded me into this appealing museum piece. I was shocked to see so many kids I’ve never met just walk up to me and gawk at my drawings. I did’t even need to initiate anymore… I just had to create interesting things to gain the interest of others. Almost every week I would come in early, sit down on the couch, just draw whatever come to mind, and let people come my way. From then on, I was known as the artist. I would post art on Facebook, I would create more drawings on my off time to show off on social media and in person. This went on, and it worked. Until life decided to not go my way. 

Photo by Gregg Lawson

Loss of Self.

It was the summer of my last year in middle school. I remember my family sitting down at the dinner table and my dad telling us the news that he was leaving his position as the children’s pastor. Soon after that, my mom stepped down from the worship team after singing in every morning service for nearly 5 years. Just like that, 2 prominent titles that the world identified me with were gone. I wasn’t the pastor’s kid anymore. I wasn’t the worship leader’s kid anymore. 

I panicked. I literally had anxiety attacks over this for months. I had no idea how this would affect me and my friendships and other people’s perceptions down the road. It got worse once I transitioned into high school. 

I was friends with all lower classmen, besides a few guys I hung out with in my same grade. But they changed drastically in short span of time, and seemed as though they did’t want anything to do with me. I was in the midst of an identity crisis, and I had to figure out someway to make myself appealing to these new, older, taller group of students with the only positive label I had to my name. 

I worked my butt off to be known as the creative artist. 

I didn’t bring my sketchpad with me as often as I used to, but I drew almost every day. I honed my skills, and got better. I posted more online, I made more friends over seas because of my art. I had a batch of “online friends” to brag about to people. I wrote stories to draw more characters about. I did everything to make myself look as impressive as a freshmen could with the talent that I had. 

Come sophomore year, I gradually found my people. I clung to these new friends every weekend, because they were the only ones that accepted me. I drew for them. I made art for them. I tried to appeal myself to them as often as I could. In hindsight, the smothering of creative adulation was farfetched and unnecessary, but back then that was the only thing I knew to do to maintain a relationship. 

So I got better. I drew more and more. I wrote creative stories, and built magical worlds with my visual talent. I made all of my work known to people. Creating art began to transform into an obligation than a pleasant pastime. Once I graduated high school and my friends parted ways, it crashed on top of me like a dump truck. The friends I thought I had weren’t intentional about keeping in touch. They found new labels, and were drawn to those of the same name. I was left alone, on my own path. All the work I poured into art was squandered. It meant nothing. Even in the midst of working towards my animation degree, I had no passion for it. Not only did I lose my love for creativity, I lost my identity. 

Photo by Chris Holt

Who Are You, Really?

Freshman year of college was a rough time for me. In the midst of change, I had to take a few steps back to rediscover myself. My whole perception of love and friendship came out of the mindset that I had to perform. I felt I needed to create more content, to live up to my artistic title in order to get the admiration I wanted from the people around me. Because that was what I was known for. That was who I was. 

But was it really? 

It was’t until a year later I went to a conference with dozens of like-minded creatives, passionate about their craft as well as their calling that I began to understand. I had conversations with people that were twice as old as me who had been dealing with these same issues. There were professionals in the industry who talked about these things. It was then I knew I wasn’t alone on this journey of self discovery… but it doesn’t have to be as complicated as one might think. 

So what if all my labels disappeared? I was no longer an artist. I could’t sing. I have no talent to speak of. I was’t pretty, but I was’t ugly. Not athletic or smart. No notable works to be mentioned. I have done nothing to entertain the masses or add to society. Who would I be then? 

To my surprise, I’m more than all of those labels combined. I went back to my roots. The foundational truths of God’s Word that I was raised on. It’s amazing how we can go throughout life and sometimes forget or completely disregard what the Bible says about God’s love and promises. 

  In Romans 8 it describes us as heirs to God, adopted into His family through faith in Jesus. Going on it mentions we have a purpose in His plan as His children. 

I am a new creation. 1 Corinthians 5:17

I have not a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7

I was bought with a price. 1 Corinthians 6:20 

I am a light. Matthew 5:14 

I am blessed.  Ephesians 1:3 

I am an overcomer. 1 John 5:4 

I am more than a conqueror. Romans 8:37 

I am loved. Romans 5:8

The list can go on and on. There are so many places in the Bible that state God’s opinions about me. The kicker is that he thought of these things before I was even conceived. Before my heart started beating, before my eyes saw the world, He loved me. I didn’t have to do anything to earn it. He loves me, because He loves me, because He loves me… just because. 

  I didn’t do anything.   

Do you know how much relief I felt when I was reminded of that? There was NOTHING I could do that would make Him love me any more or any less than He does right now. He’s always been in my corner, I was just too blind by my own warped mindset to perform and succeed to gain admiration from others. In reality, it was far simpler than what I imagined. 

Photo by Luke Spangler

The Love that Defines You.

I didn’t need to put sticky notes listing my accomplishments and my titles all over me. Those are just things I happen to be called or that I happen to do. Those can come and go. Life has a habit of shifting your perspective that way. But what I know for sure, where my foundation lies and what I am grounded in is the fact that I’m loved by the Creator of the Universe.   

You may be reading this with one or two or fifteen labels spinning in your mind that you’re known for. You may feel the pressure to uphold those titles because you feel that if those sticky notes fall away, you would be left with an empty canvas that no one would love or admire. 

But know that in the very heart of it all, the treasure of your being is the unconditional love that burns inside you. The Love that wants you to prosper in life. The Love that had a plan and a purpose for you before you were born. The Love that loves your abnormally large nose, the one dimple on your left cheek, your bushy eyebrows and frizzy hair. The Love, that no matter how screwed up you are, or what awful things you may have done, or how many people you’ve hurt,  He is there by your side, willing to walk life out with you as you rediscover yourself in Him again. 

No matter how others see you, know without a shadow of a doubt, you will always be loved by the One who wanted you here in the first place, just because you’re His creation. 

Cheers, 

Hannah Spangler 

[draycaenas]

Write for Me

Write for me.

That is what you said to me tonight.

Write for ME.

It cycled, and cycled, and cycled.

Write for me.

You continued talking, unaware of the significance. Unaware of the rabbit hole I was falling down. I stayed silent, trying to focus. I love the sound of your voice.

Write for me.

And I have.

I learned to write when I was five. I could already read by then, and was in love with my Nana’s handwriting. She wrote out the alphabet in cursive, and taped to my desk. I practiced it endlessly until I had it mastered. She would later teach me calligraphy, and inspire a love of fonts, typeface & literature of all styles.

When I was a child, I wrote my own versions of the fairy tales & stories I had read and been told. When I showed my mom, she said it was cute. When I said I wanted to be a writer, she told me I was wasting my time. I was crushed, but I continued.

When I was older, I wrote because it was all I had. My life was a strict, rarely changing routine filled with rules & restrictions. I spent the majority of my time alone, unable to leave my room without permission, and with only my school supplies & books as a means of entertaining myself. I channeled my thoughts & emotions into notebooks, journals, scraps of paper, the occasional sketchbook but all accompanied by crude drawings…

Despite my longing I could never recreate the images in my head properly onto paper, my talents unfortunately don’t lay in artistry. Art supplies were also expensive, and I had little to no access to money nor the freedom to leave in order to purchase them.

My room was searched whenever I was at school, and despite my best efforts at stashing them away, my mother found one of my journals.

Of any of them, it was the worst one for her to have found. That particular book was where my darkest thoughts lived; where my secrets, my demons & desires danced across pages in quickly scribbled and scrawled cursive, barely legible in places. A sizable chunk included passages about her, her divorce from my father, and her new husband.

This took place on a Friday, on my father’s weekend to have custody of my brother & I. I had a harrowing three hours being screamed at, threatened, and told that I was an ungrateful bitch before my father arrived. I spent the weekend a nervous wreck, wondering what I would be walking into on Sunday. My mother had kept the book.

When I returned, the atmosphere had changed. Any traces of warmth, compassion or empathy that had been scarcely present before were now entirely gone. I was met with stony, cold indifference or simple outright silence. They refused to look at me, and I was sent almost immediately back upstairs after the cursory ‘What did you do? Did your Dad say anything about me? What about that whore?’ investigation from my mother.

I was shocked when I opened my bedroom door & immediately saw the book sitting on the edge of my bed. I stood in the doorway, unable to breathe for a moment. I leafed through it, but it was unchanged. I shoved it into the furthest back part of my closet, and never wrote it in again.

That summer, I dug it out of the closet & brought it with me to my fathers house. I had been planning on throwing it into the ravine that bordered onto the backyard. When I went to retrieve the book, it wasn’t where I had left it.

My stomach sank, and I checked my father & stepmothers room. Sure enough, there is my book, sitting right on her dresser. I grabbed my book, and had an awkward conversation with my father when he returned home from work. I explained how I had to write the thoughts down, or the cycle wouldn’t end, and how fleeting my emotions are. For the first time, I think he may have understood that I was different, and he made me feel okay.

I found out a few years later that both my mother and stepmother had copied & used my journal entries during the custody & divorce proceedings. My mother also had told some of our family members, in some cases with wild exaggerations of what I had written.

My journal. My darkest secrets, my most horrible, angry emotional & hormonal rages used as fodder for their fighting. My mental health status was discussed & decisions were made without my knowledge or consent. Dozens of people had read my innermost, private thoughts, including school staff members. Court clerks, lawyers, the judge… I was angry & hurt as hell.

The worst part wasn’t the humiliation, the punishments that followed, or the anger at being used as a pawn, or that I felt violated from the lack of privacy. I had written a passage about the sexual abuse I had endured. It had, by this point, been read by at least five adults that I knew of and more that I didn’t, including a school principal.

Not a single of them said or did a damn thing about it.

Write for me…

After that experience, I didn’t write anything but schoolwork until I left home. I had printed a hard copy of some older writing I had done on our first computer, and that was discovered shortly before I left. I was humiliated by my stepfather, called a slut for having written a sex scene & told I was worthless for having those type of thoughts. Writing erotica had been cathartic for me, as it was a sexual encounter that I was able to control & end whenever I needed to. That response poisoned my confidence, and destroyed another outlet I had found to help retain my sanity.

When I finally did start journaling again, I became more adept at hiding my books. I would spend hours writing, whether it was novel ideas or chapters or character biographies.. I even wrote histories for D&D characters my friends played. I found LiveJournal, and started publishing posts online. I found LitErotica & started publishing there too. I felt safe, hidden behind a screen & a username.

Write for me.

When I walked into our room & caught my partner reading my personal journal, I stopped writing by hand. I created a private LiveJournal account, and resumed writing there.

These posts would eventually be discovered when I mistakenly left the apartment without logging out of my account. Screenshots were saved, e-mails were sent, and by the time I returned home from work, my inbox was overflowing with hate mail, rape and death threats.

My partner had taken anything that could be construed as a personal attack & declared me an emotional & physical abuser to our wide circle of friends, many of which believed without question.

My address, work, schedule & phone number had been shared. I managed to move within two weeks, but I didn’t stay at the apartment during that time. I had to close my accounts & change my number, and alter how I came & left work. Security was notified. I was so embarrassed that I almost quit, but I needed the money. People questioned & accused me for months afterward, until I stopped frequenting our local hangouts. I was stalked, followed and cat called for awhile, and called obscenities while riding the bus when I ran into our old crowd.

The kicker was when my partner, angry at my decision to leave, destroyed my hard drive. Years worth of writing novels, two of my +10k word scripts, my only copy of my complete novel, all my notes and characters and pictures.. GONE.

I was devastated.

Writing became complicated. Anything I wrote online, I was afraid would be taken offensively. I’ve never wanted to harm anyone & the confrontation is terrifying for me. I didn’t want my words twisted or misinterpreted. Anything I saved to my PC, I was afraid of losing again. Anything I wrote down by hand couldn’t be kept private.

Writing wasn’t safe anymore.

The Facebook era has only made the problem worse, giving more people access to my opinions & leaving more room for miscommunication and misunderstandings. I have become selective about what I share, and this type of self censorship bothers me. I wish I could express myself freely, without the tidal wave of dissenting opinions. Even from behind the relative safety of my screen, these confrontations elicit the same anxiety-ridden response from me as they do in person.

My former escape became a prison that I couldn’t escape from. I dreamt of my characters, their progressions and pitfalls, but when I woke instead of words I found only blank frustration, mere sentences that would trail off into nothingness instead of endless pages like before.

Write for Me.

And I have.

When my Nana died, she took what I believed at the time to be the last vestiges of my creativity with her. A piece of my soul died, irrevocably stolen from me the way she herself has been. I hadn’t touched a book, a sketchpad or a canvas in months.

Slowly, I started doodling, mostly as a way to keep myself occupied. I started a few paintings, but couldn’t satisfy my need for perfection. They still lay abandoned on my work bench. A friend asked for what should have been a simple painting, but it took me weeks before I could start it and months before it was finished.

Then I met you..

There was a spark, and it has grown. Since we met, I have started painting again not because I could use the money, but because I have the desire to be creative. This entry is the longest piece I’ve written in years.

You have a knack for guiding me towards the challenges in life that I find big & scary; all the while proving that there isn’t anything to be afraid of. This gradual gift of rebuilding confidence is something I cannot repay, nor adequately describe how significant it is to experience.

I’ve spent a lifetime creating these barriers, content to stay safe within my emotional fortress, until now. You’ve pushed my boundaries, and made me realize that perhaps it’s time that I start pushing them again myself.

Write for me..

And I will.

And this time I’ll let it be read.