I don’t believe in categoric “love languages” but, along those lines, providing is so important for me in my relationships, romantic and otherwise. I love you, so I provide for you, and maybe you’ll do the same for me. I want to be in a constant cycle of giving and receiving with my loved ones. I want to feel safe and appreciated and make others feel the same way. I want to anticipate their needs. I want them to openly express their desires to me without shame. If you want it, it’s yours. I love you.
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February 17 2024
1 year ago, to this day, my friend bought me Sonic Frontiers. It has now been 1 year of me being completely hyperfixed on the blue blur, his twin tailed brother, and all the others. I can't thank my friend enough for what he did.
I will be taking a week or two off from posting, just as a small break.
In a year, there have been
646 drawing pages (at least, saved on my phone)
2 au's (Re:Donely and Road Trip)
So many friends and acquaintances (if you know who you are, pat yourself on the back)
Hundreds of laughs
Dozens of au's I've become obsessed with
Too many times where I redesigned a character
and 1 year where I have certainly smiled at least once each day.
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I cannot express enough that if your reaction, as a hobby artist, to not getting that many notes on your art is to say "maybe I should just stop doing art altogether" you need to stop posting art to tumblr
not necessarily forever, not even for long, but just stop putting your art on here and start doing it for you again, remember why you enjoyed doing art in the first place and stop relying on the attention of faceless people on the internet for your enjoyment of your hard work
believe me, I get it, nothing crushes the artistic soul quite like labouring for hours on a piece only for it to get like 10 notes, so you need to find your own source of joy in the act of creation and a lot of the time that means making art and not showing it to anybody
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it mattered because when my brother asked me what if this is the happiest you'll ever be? the best you'll ever get? the thing i felt was fear, not peace. everybody thought you were so perfect for me. even i thought you were "helping me grow". i had to challenge every internal clock. make myself more thoughtful, more kind, more beautiful.
i told my therapist it was good because i like the changes i made and there's something so strong about saying i did that. the problem is that i can like the difference all i want, but i changed for you. something akin to getting your name tattooed, all my progress is stamped with fuck you.
it was the happiest i'd ever been and also the best i'd ever gotten. i would still get in the car and think what the fuck just happened.
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