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A Pokemon Thanksgiving by Hinatazuk A Pokemon Thanksgiving :iconhinatazuk:Hinatazuk 1 8
Literature
Sadness, a Foreign Language
We are not just a disease.
Or a simple emotion.
We are a people.
For every region, there’s an accent.
Ours are in our words but not the sound.
You can say, “giddy-up” and “y’all”,
But we can’t say we’re miserable.
Both are like the air we breathe,
so common and uncontrolled.
Come on; let’s wake up.
The annoying sirens sing their song from your alarm clock.
Don on the clothing and drag yourself to the sink.
Painting your teeth with a smile.
But it can’t make a light.
Nor can the illuminating red in your eyes.
Nor can anything,
even the mightiest of the Suns.
Come on; let’s wake up.
A simple little chant,
One you tell yourself but you really can’t.
What makes you awake
is all of the constant aches
that jab like thorns without a rose.
Your body is the only thing you can feel.
That paint on your face is starting to drop.
Now, you could go to school.
Taking class after class,
doing task after task,
test after test,
and
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Literature
Inspired
As a kid,
lost in the crowd.
Lost in chaos,
lost in sound.
There is one thing I can tell you that I found.
In the beat of the drums,
in the tapping toes to the hums.
It’s not a singer’s voice we’re hearing.
It’s not a singer’s voice that is steering.
What’s driving the noise
of all the girls and the boys
is the sound of their choice.
It’s not about the money
and to heck with the fame!
Get the dollar bills,
greens make for a good flame.
It’s about the lights.
It’s about the city.
It’s about the people.
Who cares for the pretty?
It’s about the vibrations in the ground.
It’s a riot in the form of sound.
I look down again
and there’s a mic in my hand.
Years went in a minute
but I understand.
This is what I’m born into.
This is the role I play.
I’m now the singer,
up here for your display.
You may look and notice
And it may be too late to realize.
I can’t move. It’s a side effect
of being h
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Literature
One Kiss (Kiss Your Life Away)
I’m the darkest part of the rainbow,
but even I have so many shades.
They think all they see is sorrow,
what you see is a masquerade.
Take my hand and dance.
The tempo is the beat of my tears.
Let the music make you trance
as to not arise your fears.
Do you feel the life inside this coffin?
Do you feel it flow through your veins?
Do you feel the lively music? Or will you remain tame?
Live with me in the nighttime mist.
All I want is just one kiss.
The kiss to kiss your life away.
Does it feel like home yet?
Pour me some blood, if you please.
You won’t need your body, dear.
Your soul will be part of the breeze.
What do you think is
what makes us chill at night?
Lose yourself and come with me,
just lean in and sit tight.
Do you feel the life inside this coffin?
Do you feel it flow through your veins?
Do you feel the lively music? Or will you remain tame?
Live with me in the nighttime mist.
All I want is just one kiss.
The kiss to kiss your life away.
“Is this the land o
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Literature
Falling at the End
There she is, at the end.
She gave me the warmth of a friend.
But it is getting colder.
If the flame could only start.
If the life could only spark.
Then maybe it will not smolder.
And as you swear
that you will remain there,
I feel so much distance.
Your promise, you may keep.
Clutch me as I fall asleep.
No matter how tight, I fall out of existence.
As I’m going down,
I open my hand.
My palm hits the ledge.
I climb up and start to stand.
I watched a fountain of faces.
They flood downwards. Here, of all places.
But then I saw her soul, so pink and pure.
I reached in and I pulled her.
Her body fell on top of me.
She pointed and said, “that’s where you will be.”
There was a light. I took her hand.
“What else do you know about this land?”
She began to giggle as she said,
“long story short, it’s the land of the dead.
I’m not surprised you are so lucky
to just realize you had reached purgatory.”
I asked her, “So to come here,
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Literature
Stare
Stare at the piece of paper. That blankness is what the world looks like without ideas.
Without that paper, your pen has nowhere to go.
Without that canvas, that brush withers to dust.
The words that could have been written, the image that could have been portrayed.
Whatever that message is, it's on its way.
Stare at the piece of paper, for it is no longer paper. It is a work in progress.
The first step is to take your hand down.
Make your markings. Let them form words. Let them form that imagery. Make your mark, and make it yours.
Stare at the piece of paper. On that paper is more than a slice of tree.
On that paper is expression. Whether it be of literature or of viewing pleasure.
That paper, no matter how many erasing, inklings, or smears it may have, it has been through a journey.
The journey to creation, a journey you have made, survived, and achieved.
The paper is the journey, and the destination is what you feel.
You know you have reached your destination when you give that piec
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Literature
Sleep is not for everyone
There are these fingers at your eyes.
They keep up opened up and wide
until that iris fades to a ghostly white.
You can only face the walls.
The voice in your little brain calls.
It says “what makes you think you’ll sleep tonight?”
Your mind has its favorite lullaby to sing
about how you are the most wretched thing.
Will the insanity ever stop?
You stay up today, and then again.
This vicious cycle seems to have no end
unless you count getting your cranium to pop.
Sleep, sleep, it is not for everyone.
You close your eyes til the day you die,
and that really isn’t fun.
Sleep, sleep, it is not for everyone.
You only sleep when you know you’re done.
You feel yourself fade away.
It’s getting worse and worse by the day.
You’ve tried every remedy. You took your med.
You go and take more and more
and take out the supply at the store
and you still can not rest your head.
What was life is so droll.
You wonder when you had your soul.
There has to be somet
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Literature
Insert Name Here
You don’t chose the world
that you were born into.
You don’t determine
what is and is not true.
You get a bag and
you have to get an education.
Will you become the outlier
that sees it as a simulation?
Are you another cow
that’s just following the herd
or will you find your wings
and be a former caged bird?
You can say your pledges, but does that make the words true?
Even if you know, they’ll come right after you.
I don’t have an identity.
There’s not a name for me.
It’s all so unclear.
There’s a break in serenity.
What am I supposed to be?
Insert my name here.
Insert a name here.
Oh look at you,
you have done it again.
You play their game
so you go on to pretend.
If you don’t keep up that smile
that you force on your face,
they won’t report you as missing
but the fiends will use “misplaced”.
You can say your pledges, but does that make their actions right?
If you speak, you won’t speak again so keep quiet.
I
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Literature
Writer's Last Song
The ink has spilled.
The air has chilled.
You come across a desk that’s empty.
There’s a poem on some paper,
but gone is its creator.
You start to read the words and see
the words are in red,
it’s bloody and fresh from the dead.
It’s not real. You start to call yourself psychotic.
Then the music starts playing.
You don’t know where but it’s swaying.
The beat fills the air. It’s catchy and hypnotic.
You want to leave but you stay.
You keep reading and the music will play.
It plays on and on and on.
This is the writer’s last song.
The room has changed.
The furniture, rearranged.
It can stop being so black and white.
The lyrics have your control
but you won’t lose your soul
so long as you stay still and sit tight.
Listen up as the music floats.
It gets louder with each note.
And hear that subtle guitar.
Each player is a spirit.
You won’t believe til you hear it.
Then maybe you can hum a bar.
In a room of death,
you hold in your b
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Literature
Generation Poem
“You’re never too young to make a difference.” Where have you heard that line?
I realized a different meaning to those words: Being young makes us different.
We look to the faces of our elders. They existed in a time where you didn’t. They did not have automobiles with all sorts of gadgets.
They did not have mobile phones.
They did not have emails.
They did not have things that we deem are essential to us today.
But we also have disadvantages.
What was gas? To us, it is a rising number.
To them, they will always remember when the amount was lower.
What was fun? To us, it is staying inside and glued to a monitor.
To them, it was going outside and becoming what we consider to be athletes now.
What was bonding? To us, it is how late we stay on a device.
To them, it was actually talking.
Being young makes us different.
The elders could not have guessed that they used up resources the next generation would need today.
Some realize this and have empathy.
Some accept t
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Literature
For what's Night's Purpose?
The night, how my electronics illuminate you so.
The night, how you've visited me again and again.
Under my artificial light, I see white dashes. They seem to collide with one another. For what purpose?
They zoom around the room. At every corner my eye sees, they appear. For what purpose?
The next night, there were more than white dashes in the room.
The next night, catastrophe and chaos met beyond my window.
They stomped their gargantuan feet down to Earth. For what purpose?
All beings, child or mother or father, dog or cat or even fish, do their best to hide as I gaze on. For what purpose?
Yet another night has come. The storm is gone.
Yet another night has come. The new rarity is here.
It seems my devices have been rearranged. For what purpose?
It also appears that my guitar moved. For what purpose?
For what purpose indeed.
Tonight the voices arrived but gibberish is their only form of welcome.
Tonight is not the night that I will know the answers.
I do have a guess, suggesting I ha
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Literature
Did she?
Here I am, in my bed.
It’s the only place that I’m comfortable.
Even as I lay here,
I can’t help that I’m so dysfunctional.
I’ll admit, though no one knows,
that I hold long-lasting grudges.
My hand grips hold onto my chest.
I’m in my sadness’s clutches.
I will lose myself but there is
no one out there that I can call for.
I apologize again and again
until I can’t speak anymore.
This time is different
because from the corner of my eye.
a light zooms into view.
I can’t help but wonder why.
Is it her? Is she there?
Is she that line in the air?
Did she come back for me?
Did she come back to me?
Did she?
When my friends aren’t leaving,
they’re all to busy fighting.
The thought of losing anyone
is far too frightening.
You know, I want to go back,
to the simpler time when
the smiles and laughter
never had to end.
She made me happy
but been gone, too long now.
After all that time, is she
floating somewhere, alive somehow?
This
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Literature
Just Cause I'm Dead
Who else woke up
from their dirt nap
with their knife
resting in their lap?
Good morning,
It’s time to get outside
and to pass the grave.
Oh, that’s right, you died.
Go ahead, give me the stare.
It’s not like I wasn’t prepared.
You can say “you’re not supposed to be here.”
Let me answer you, just so we’re clear.
Just cause I’m dead
and my eyes are made out of coal.
Just cause I’m dead
doesn’t mean I have no soul.
It’s probably purer than yours.
Just cause I didn’t fly my way up
doesn’t mean I’m not an angel.
I even got a little halo,
but on Earth it’s not that stable.
I stayed behind
because I have yet to be freed.
Oh my torn up body,
I forgot that I still bleed.
Go ahead, give me the stare.
It’s not like I would really care.
You can say “wait, you’re not supposed to be here!”
Please shush your mouth. Mortal, I am nothing to fear.
Just cause I’m dead
doesn
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Literature
I Needed (Someone Give Them Something)
Your sunny days don’t mean that
there aren’t clouds above.
You’re sitting there confused, thinking,
“What’s this wacko speaking of?”
Come with me and let me show you
so your eyes can open wide.
There’s a depth in the shadows
where the real tragedy hides.
This boy’s called worthless
every day that he can remember.
All the kids snickering.
When will they learn? Will it take forever?
He’s making a sound, no he’s not laughing.
Why are you looking at me?
Look, he’s giving your arm a tug.
All he ever wanted was a hug.
Please, ignore what you see.
So what if I lost it that one time?
My scars do not define my prime.
I’m not afraid to lose my blood again.
This kid, all he needs is a friend.
Someone give him something I needed back then.
It’s not just him that’s in misery.
There are more beyond the hall.
Behind every little corner they can hide,
I can’t even count them all.
They think there isn
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:iconhinatazuk:Hinatazuk 2 8
Literature
World of Dreams (pit of nightmares)
Entering this realm
that we call “Reality”.
There are things that you can do
that are just too hard for me.
I’m waiting for my halo,
but you’ve already got your wings.
Fly away, go fly away!
You’re not held down by strings.
The ground is shaking,
I feel like I’m sinking,
right into my mind.
The Earth is breaking
because I’m thinking
that I’m the only one left behind.
Looking at you.
You’re heading towards a world where skies are blue.
Looking up above.
It’s a new world powered by the hearts that know love.
It might appear the same here.
But it’s not what it seems.
I live in the pits of nightmares,
hidden under the world of dreams.
Crumbling under all the thoughts,
and falling through the cracks.
Is it possible to believe
that I will ever make it back?
There are black hands that drag me
down to the abyss.
Only my eyes are free
to watch you ascend into bliss.
I used to see that world
that you are about to go.
You will feel
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Literature
The Widower
Did you take a look at her face?
Did you notice her smile?
Oh, she hasn’t looked quite that way
in quite some while.
She was laughing as she
was making her grand descent.
Maybe she soared, or maybe
her skull didn’t notice the dent.
In the real world you live in,
the water has turned rosy red.
Up here, it is still so clear,
where you saw tragedy, she saw peace instead.
You can hold her close
before she’s put to rest.
They’ll pamper her up
as she’ll look her best.
Do yourself a favor
as you face the rain above.
Know that this was
not an act of hate, but out of love.
Like her memory,
she’ll start to corrode.
Then you will forget
that you’ve been widowed.
After the storm, the family leaves,
everyone starts feeling ill.
The girl is following you
but you can’t feel her deathly chill.
She watches you weep,
but that’s only for now.
In a few days, she knows
you’ll feel better somehow.
Doesn’t matter if you
cry a puddle or an enti
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Favourites

Technologic by Sukesha-Ray Technologic :iconsukesha-ray:Sukesha-Ray 190 10 Eddsworld Girls by happydoodle Eddsworld Girls :iconhappydoodle:happydoodle 1,735 87 EWCOMIC No. 202 - Junk Sale Pt2 by eddsworld EWCOMIC No. 202 - Junk Sale Pt2 :iconeddsworld:eddsworld 1,299 120 EWCOMIC No. 201 - Junk Sale Pt1 by eddsworld EWCOMIC No. 201 - Junk Sale Pt1 :iconeddsworld:eddsworld 1,467 181 EWCOMIC No. 200 - Transmission by eddsworld EWCOMIC No. 200 - Transmission :iconeddsworld:eddsworld 1,008 216 ogreenworld by firewoodTemple ogreenworld :iconfirewoodtemple:firewoodTemple 71 5 2D's Best Friend by puppkin 2D's Best Friend :iconpuppkin:puppkin 144 11 Stu Pot by puppkin Stu Pot :iconpuppkin:puppkin 273 13 happy valentine by Tea-cup-kitty happy valentine :icontea-cup-kitty:Tea-cup-kitty 181 24 Pretty boy by Tea-cup-kitty Pretty boy :icontea-cup-kitty:Tea-cup-kitty 140 8 Faded. by Sukesha-Ray Faded. :iconsukesha-ray:Sukesha-Ray 153 15 Warrior Princess by 14-bis Warrior Princess :icon14-bis:14-bis 589 26 Deadpool by Ruby--Art Deadpool :iconruby--art:Ruby--Art 172 9 Harley Quinn - Suicide Squad by Ruby--Art Harley Quinn - Suicide Squad :iconruby--art:Ruby--Art 211 6 Harley Quinn by bylorang Harley Quinn :iconbylorang:bylorang 270 6 Harley Quinn Suicide Squad by Fluffmoth Harley Quinn Suicide Squad :iconfluffmoth:Fluffmoth 499 7

Activity


I don't understand what I'm supposed to do. "Be straight with me but if you make me angry then you are a terrible person." Am I the only one who sees a lose-lose situation? I figure if I hint at something, the person will get the hint more politely.
I had an argument with a friend who thinks I'm anorexic. I told my friend I can't afford food. He said, "that is not an excuse". Same friend told me never to eat off the floor or from the trash. Same friend keeps asking me to save him up money for gifts for his girlfriend, food for him, refrigerators, textbooks, etc. This was before my mother told me I owe her everything it took to take care of me financially.
Bringing me to my next one, "Get help for being suicidal." I wish I could tell him the only reason why I haven't died already and put myself out of everyone's misery, including his because he calls me a retard for what feels like every second of the day because I said something that hurt him when I'm "straight with him". If I had an emotional reason for being suicidal, it feels like it's him. Granted he has tried to care but he does all the yelling and says I bitch about everything. Recap, the person starving themselves and is being blamed for it because I spend all my money on him has zero right to complain. Working at a minimum wage job eight hours a day and having your parents are expecting you to have money. When they ask me questions, I'm on my own. My friend said to never talk about him so I have to lie and when I do that, he and they get mad at me for lying. I anticipate the questions and he just tells me to deal with it. The hospital debt that he put me in? Just deal with it. Yes, cutting myself is my own fault. But he didn't have to call the cops on me and send me into this debt (that my mom is still paying off a year or so later. Not me on my minimum wage job but her, as high of a position as director of nurses for over ten years, is still having trouble paying it off). It is hard to believe he cares sometimes when I'm basically just a tool. He actually straight up threatens to call them at times and I asked him why I should trust him with anything. Apparently I'm too much of a retard to be given an answer.
  • Listening to: My Chemical Romance "I Don't Love You"
  • Playing: https://ipetcompanion.com
  • Eating: Corn Beef
  • Drinking: Pepsi
Forgot if I mentioned this stuff the last time I posted a journal but LAST TIME ON DRAGON BALL Z
I had a boyfriend that would try to kill himself if I didn't "show him some skin". He cheated on me three times in our year and two months together. I hate the fact that he's my longest relationship. In between then and now, I tried to move on but met someone who wasn't looking into dating but he would threaten to kill himself if I didn't do the things I did before. The only real difference between person A and person B is that person was going to try to frame me. This went for six months before a friend of mine (who told me my ex was cheating on me) asked to borrow my SIM card. Scared that the police could track my number, I asked him if the police could do that. He didn't answer my question and demanded to know why I'd ask such a thing. I'm not sure how he feels about me but I got scared nonetheless and told him. Glad I did because he got me out of that jam. Turns out, this was called sexual and emotional abuse. I remember when I went to counseling because everyone advised it of me. If I recall correctly, nothing really happened. "What do you feel about it?" They probably were looking for "used, abused, etc." but I said "relieved".
So, the "again" part is the exboyfriend. Here's the thing: he knows I need money. My friend knows I need money, especially after my car broke down. It was mainly to get my parents alright. They're not broke or anything but it's a long story that kind of makes me wish I could tell them that I was doing drugs. I've never done any and they have so if they quiz me on what a buzz is like, I'm outa luck. What I did made my dad pin me to the table in such a way that had me screaming uncontrollably (maybe there's a part of the spine that does that? It wouldn't have hurt otherwise). After my mom was yelling at my dad, who said he was looking for drugs in my eyes which I told her that I deserved, she locked herself in the bathroom for about half an hour. This was after my suicide attempt so..I was worried like crazy but couldn't find the words to say. Even my tears just accepted she isn't coming back out. I'd have to drop out to get a job for my decade unemployed father and legally retarded brother. She came back out. I already try really hard not to ask her for anything because I'm always thankful for her being around.
ANYWAY, back to the "again" part, the exboyfriend asked me to do pictures and videos "like we used to". I hesitated but figured even if I'm busted at this point, I am going to eventually need money again. He promised me a grand. I kept doing what he said for hours and got nothing. He kept saying I wasn't good enough. Eventually, my friend found out about all this and made him give me $150. Not bad I suppose. I didn't know what my body was worth. My friend sent messages to him, accusing him of mentally and sexually abusing me. At first, I thought it was a bit harsh since this was technically an agreed upon transaction but he was also referring to the cheating and such from before. He told him that I felt used. That was true some years ago. He claimed he wanted to be a better person. I thought he was the same person and I wasn't going to crawl back into a relationship with him, despite his advice to ditch everyone and go to live with him. I'm flattered that my friend called me his best friend and that he would be there for me. Every time I hear that, it feels so distant, which I guess is better than being told it all the time and having it mean nothing. I suppose it comes with a sense of sincerity that way instead of a tossed around phrase.
So I guess I'm supposed to feel something. I almost feel no different than when I found out he cheated on me again. I think I shouldn't feel something, especially given that it's my third time around this, and I don't know why I'm still processing it and starting to feel things about it. I guess it's defeat. Grades plummeting doesn't help and my parents are already asking me about graduation when I basically don't have a major. This feeling might be coming from the fact that I had to resort to this. The money was moreso for my parents than it was for me. Only reason I would care for having money right now is for having Christmas presents, and having my car light fixed. I'm pretty much stuck thinking "now what? Why am I still caring about this?"
  • Listening to: My Chemical Romance "I Don't Love You"
  • Reading: An article on The Mindy Project
  • Watching: Bad Moms
  • Playing: procrastinating homework
  • Eating: Popcorn
  • Drinking: Milk
A Pokemon Thanksgiving
I made this banner for my Pokemon group: www.facebook.com/groups/930199…

All images were from Google. The Pokemon were found on Wikis and the anime.

In case you were wondering what was intentional, the Kangaskhan is appointed the chief because of its motherly nature. Ho-Oh is its sacred headdress. The shiny pilgrim is considered the leader of its kind. Dodrio or Fearow was going to be the bird on the plate instead of any Pidgey relatives (because Pidgey are more like roughened pigeons to me, tbh).
Possible controversy - while I picked Hypno as the pilgrims because they appear the most human, I realized part of the way in that someone could interpret it as a metaphor of how the pilgrims manipulated the natives. Also, that the natives are Cubones who often lose their loved ones. I wanted to pick Cubone specifically because it appeared like the most warrior-type of Pokemon.
Short answer - it's up to interpretation. Any message is more historical than anything else.
Please remember to respect your neighbor/fellow trainer if they are native, white, any other color, gender, ethnicity, preference, etc. I personally believe the actions done by ourselves defines us more than what our ancestors had done.
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I just got back from not remembering my password, what'd I miss?
Forgot if I mentioned this stuff the last time I posted a journal but LAST TIME ON DRAGON BALL Z
I had a boyfriend that would try to kill himself if I didn't "show him some skin". He cheated on me three times in our year and two months together. I hate the fact that he's my longest relationship. In between then and now, I tried to move on but met someone who wasn't looking into dating but he would threaten to kill himself if I didn't do the things I did before. The only real difference between person A and person B is that person was going to try to frame me. This went for six months before a friend of mine (who told me my ex was cheating on me) asked to borrow my SIM card. Scared that the police could track my number, I asked him if the police could do that. He didn't answer my question and demanded to know why I'd ask such a thing. I'm not sure how he feels about me but I got scared nonetheless and told him. Glad I did because he got me out of that jam. Turns out, this was called sexual and emotional abuse. I remember when I went to counseling because everyone advised it of me. If I recall correctly, nothing really happened. "What do you feel about it?" They probably were looking for "used, abused, etc." but I said "relieved".
So, the "again" part is the exboyfriend. Here's the thing: he knows I need money. My friend knows I need money, especially after my car broke down. It was mainly to get my parents alright. They're not broke or anything but it's a long story that kind of makes me wish I could tell them that I was doing drugs. I've never done any and they have so if they quiz me on what a buzz is like, I'm outa luck. What I did made my dad pin me to the table in such a way that had me screaming uncontrollably (maybe there's a part of the spine that does that? It wouldn't have hurt otherwise). After my mom was yelling at my dad, who said he was looking for drugs in my eyes which I told her that I deserved, she locked herself in the bathroom for about half an hour. This was after my suicide attempt so..I was worried like crazy but couldn't find the words to say. Even my tears just accepted she isn't coming back out. I'd have to drop out to get a job for my decade unemployed father and legally retarded brother. She came back out. I already try really hard not to ask her for anything because I'm always thankful for her being around.
ANYWAY, back to the "again" part, the exboyfriend asked me to do pictures and videos "like we used to". I hesitated but figured even if I'm busted at this point, I am going to eventually need money again. He promised me a grand. I kept doing what he said for hours and got nothing. He kept saying I wasn't good enough. Eventually, my friend found out about all this and made him give me $150. Not bad I suppose. I didn't know what my body was worth. My friend sent messages to him, accusing him of mentally and sexually abusing me. At first, I thought it was a bit harsh since this was technically an agreed upon transaction but he was also referring to the cheating and such from before. He told him that I felt used. That was true some years ago. He claimed he wanted to be a better person. I thought he was the same person and I wasn't going to crawl back into a relationship with him, despite his advice to ditch everyone and go to live with him. I'm flattered that my friend called me his best friend and that he would be there for me. Every time I hear that, it feels so distant, which I guess is better than being told it all the time and having it mean nothing. I suppose it comes with a sense of sincerity that way instead of a tossed around phrase.
So I guess I'm supposed to feel something. I almost feel no different than when I found out he cheated on me again. I think I shouldn't feel something, especially given that it's my third time around this, and I don't know why I'm still processing it and starting to feel things about it. I guess it's defeat. Grades plummeting doesn't help and my parents are already asking me about graduation when I basically don't have a major. This feeling might be coming from the fact that I had to resort to this. The money was moreso for my parents than it was for me. Only reason I would care for having money right now is for having Christmas presents, and having my car light fixed. I'm pretty much stuck thinking "now what? Why am I still caring about this?"
  • Listening to: My Chemical Romance "I Don't Love You"
  • Reading: An article on The Mindy Project
  • Watching: Bad Moms
  • Playing: procrastinating homework
  • Eating: Popcorn
  • Drinking: Milk

deviantID

Hinatazuk
Shan McG
Artist | Hobbyist
United States
I am a writer, no one with a camera is local nor an animation system/ability to draw so I can't do much. I write RERA, songs, comedy skits and dramatic movies.

Current Residence: room
Favourite genre of music: Alternate/PopRock
Favourite photographer: google
Favourite style of art: animated?
Operating System: internet
MP3 player of choice: iPod
Wallpaper of choice: dark purple
Skin of choice: doesn't matter
Favourite cartoon character: 2-D (Gorillaz)
Personal Quote: Wait, WHAT?!
Interests

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:iconsugarsop:
Sugarsop Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2016  Professional Digital Artist
Ty for the fave :D
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:iconhectordefendi-light:
HectorDefendi-Light Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2015  Professional Digital Artist
Happy B-day :)
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:iconhinatazuk:
Hinatazuk Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2015  Hobbyist
Thanks broski :)
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:iconkazumitakashi:
kazumitakashi Featured By Owner Nov 6, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks by kazumitakashi  
                  for the fave ! <3
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:iconhinatazuk:
Hinatazuk Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2014  Hobbyist
No problem :) thanks for that cute lil cyclops
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:iconblikah:
blikah Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2014
Thanks again for the sparkling one! :>
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:iconhinatazuk:
Hinatazuk Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2014  Hobbyist
Lol it's not a problem :)
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:iconminzykat:
MinzyKat Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you very much for the fave!:iconsqueezehugplz:
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:iconhinatazuk:
Hinatazuk Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2014  Hobbyist
No problem :) aww hugs
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:iconblikah:
blikah Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2014
Thank you so much for the little star! *u*
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