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She said she didn’t want me

So this is what dating someone

Then no longer dating that someone feels like.

I should have seen this coming

And parts of me wonder if she was ever really interested.

Or if she was just going along because I was.

I know she found me attractive once…

I know that it was real

I know I still love her

But not in the way I did

I care deeply still

But the romantic feelings vanished

In the very moment

She said she didn’t want me any longer

I already miss her

And what we had

But I don’t want to be with her

AIN’T THAT SOME FUCKED UP SHIT

So pain will be pain

A nice clean heat

Burning in place

Of the fire I once had for her

Until it consumes itself

And once again

We’ll be friends

Like we were in the beginning

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Religion

Well, it has been quite a while since I talked about religion. But I kinda want to distract myself from certain memories this time of year brings up, and the suicidal thoughts that go along with them.

So, I’m kinda a semi-practicing eclectic pagan now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a non-practicing Discordian and materialist atheist with no belief in any spiritual forces, but I enjoy the ritual. It has it’s uses. It focuses me, and helps ┬áme deal with certain things. And I like the way the turning of the seasons is marked. It feeds me.

Hell, I don’t think this will really make sense to anyone, partially because I’ve kept it pretty vague, but this really isn’t about you anyway.

But I don’t really find community with anyone through religion. All of it still feels so alienating to me.

Anyway, that’s where I am.

Is this hell?

CN: christianity, abuse, trans stuff

Like, sometimes I wonder if I’m in hell. See, one of the things I was taught, or should I say indoctrinated into, is that God’s presence is absent in hell. And I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in gods. But maybe that’s because they really don’t exist on this plane of existence and I’m being punished. I mean, like, why else would I have to go thru the dysphoria, intense chronic pain, and all the rest. Sometimes I wonder if all the abuse is just background that’s inflicted upon me as another form of torture.

So, I don’t actually believe this is the case. I’m not that narcissistic. But yeah, I got some mental issues and hang ups left from when I was Catholic. That shit is toxic, y’all.

A word about art

First, all my art (sketches, poetry, etc.) is my art, and is not to be republished without permission. If you want to use it for something, ask, and depending on what it’s for, I may let you use it, or I may charge you and let you use it, or I might just say no.

Second, I’ve been thinking about art lately. Mines been improving. A lot. I’m very pleased. My poetry has gotten much better since I started performing at spoken word events. I’ve gotten better at creating the effects I want through shading in my sketches. And I’ve been thinking of other people’s work, and how stuff is classed.

For instance, one of my recent sketches was “The false Dichotomy of Comedy and Tragedy.” Traditional plays are classified as one of those two (more modern would be comedy/drama), and tragedy is seen as the more valid one, replicating other false binaries that people create. Where one is seen as more valid, more worthy, and the other seen as frivolous. But if you look at most tragedies, they have comic relief built in. Lines are always blurred, and many works not only aren’t easy to classify as one or the other, they don’t really have anything to do with either one.