Just Sven, the Rogue Knight

I drew Sven, a hero from Dota 2.

I started drawing him last December. It was supposed to be my last artwork for 2017.

But I am a lazy piece of shit. I end up procrastinating. 

I keep getting frustrated because it's hard to get the right shade of blue. I wanted to be accurate.

The details in his armor are hard to get, too.

After 3 months, I got him done. I think I could still make it more accurate though, but I've had enough already.

I signed it last night. I could still do better if I wanted to.

Just Two Different Moods

Me: Love is such a beautiful thing.

Also me: AAAA IT DESTROYS EVERYTHING I HATE IT

Just Telling You to Don't Mind Me, I'm Just Being My Normal Self

I still feel shitty. Haha. Man, when was the last time I haven't felt shitty? How do you get rid of this shittiness? I mean, maybe I'm not trying hard enough. I haven't been sleeping early nor waking up early. I haven't been exercising. I still take showers, which is good. It wouldn't be long before I would stop taking them. Back then, I haven't showered for months, thinking if I didn't clean myself, the bacteria would just infect my body and would just let me die. I really wanted to die that time. I was in and out of consciousness. I didn't get out of my bed for almost a month. Just slept through it. When I'd open my eyes, my body wanting to wake up, I would just close them again, smother my face on the pillow, so the light wouldn't bother my eyes. I would face down so they won't see my face. This was 3 years ago, I think? Maybe I shouldn't talk about the past anymore if it would make me feel bad. Right now, I just feel numb and shitty.

Just Eyesores

Facebook and Twitter are filled with graduation posts and I don't want to see them. It's dangerous to scroll down when I just want to look at memes. I am only safe here, in Blogger, alone in my thoughts. Everyone is celebrating a ceremony which is a big deal, I know, but for me, it's just a meaningless tradition that they force us to take part on. Kind of like birthdays and anniversaries. Why am I not thrilled with big transitions and milestones in life anymore?

Just that I Have Something in My Chest and I Can't Tell What It Is

Let me open this up by saying a gross statement... Wait, never mind. It's gross. I'll just use a euphemism. Let's say... Aunt Flo visited from Reading yesterday. Okay. Enough.

Last week I keep feeling shitty. Even two weeks ago I felt shitty. I just keep saying that I feel shitty even three weeks ago. I don't know if Aunt Flo is connected to why I always feel shitty before she comes. I just feel shitty even if she doesn't.

A few nights ago, I was bored so I took an online test about antisocial personality disorder and whaddaya know, I got this:

The quiz did say that the quiz is not a proper way to diagnose Antisocial Personality Disorder. Maybe the disorder has the same symptoms of what my real diagnosis is. Whatever. Haha. I still hate people. I just want to cease to exist.

There's this old show called Malcom in the Middle where in one episode, Malcolm decided not to talk back every time someone said something stupid. It was okay, since he received positive results. He got stuff he wanted. However, by the end of the episode, he got peptic ulcer because of all the feelings he suppressed. He coughed blood at his basketball coach. I wish I would cough up blood. I randomly think of coughing up blood since elementary. I would imagine myself spitting out blood during class and everyone would panic but I would just laugh it off. I was in fourth grade as far as I can remember when I started to think about these things.

My abnormality sometimes is a hindrance. But I think that the world would seem a little less interesting if people like me didn't exist. Still, I would think that I wish I didn't exist at all because I don't see a point. We would die. It's like having to exist is a meaningless experience.

I should stop thinking like this now. My train of thought is continuous if it is started. Now I'm just stopping it because it seems like everything that I am typing is just negative.

Just About Mentality Again

I did not know what my diagnosis was. I wasn't there when the psychiatrist explained it. I mean, I was physically there, but my mind was... somewhere else.

Just Trying to be a Smartass When What I am Actually Saying Doesn't Really Mean Anything

I just thought of how the protagonist of Slumdog Millionaire wasn't really smart, just good at associating facts based from his past experiences. People think of a person as intelligent when they could share stuff they didn't know about. What they don't know is, it is easier to remember trivial matters if they pay attention to their surroundings when they are being fed some information. For example, on the day I learned how the rock pumice looked like, my closest friend at the time submitted the project to our science teacher. She pointed at the rock, saying it's incorrectly labeled, and that it was actually pumice. I remember how the backdrop of the project was red, and how I felt really bad that I did not know how to make the project, and how I felt relieved that my friend could just add me as a partner instead. I just did not know how rocks would look like. Of course I knew what rocks were, but you had to label them with their names and classify them as sedimentary, igneous, or metamorphic rocks. Anyways, my point is, what you thought was being smart, was actually being good at connecting the dots. Or I don't know. Maybe they really are smart in a way.

Just My Illustration of Myself Every Time Someone Says Something Stupid

Just that I Could Write Some More, but I Guess This is Enough

Having a good memory is sometimes a curse. You would chat up a former classmate from elementary, whom has not seen you for six years, but you still clearly remember their full name. You would assume they would remember you because you, yourself, does. However, their reply goes, "Who are you?". You are okay with that, since it has been so long. You try to explain that you were classmates in grade one, but they deny that. Either they claim to have a different section or say that they were at a different school that time. You know that isn't true. You remember this clearly, because you know in that year was the year both of you played in the playground, riding on the seesaws. You won't reply anymore because you see that they have forgotten. It's not worth it. What you thought was memories to keep was simply a forgettable experience for them. Sometimes, having a good memory is a curse.

Just Going to Sing the First Line of The Sound of Silence

I feel really crappy. I thought I would feel better when I wake up but everything feels like shit. I usually feel better in the morning. Now, I don't. Maybe I'm getting my period soon. Hormones always make me feel shitty. Why is the agony longer now? Two weeks ago, I was all euphoric. This week, I want to kill myself. I keep getting memories back in my psychotic daze. People ask the most private questions and I answer them, even though it would make me feel bad. When chatting, I end up speaking out things that probably shouldn't, but probably better if I did. My death joke tally is getting high, that it kind of doesn't feel like they are jokes anymore. Maybe I'm just saying all of these because I'm getting my period soon. It sucks that this is all because of some womanly cycle that is natural. It's like you are born just to suffer. People would think I'm optimistic because I'm always smiling. I hate people. Maybe I wouldn't say these crap next week. Maybe I would think otherwise in the later days. Maybe I would take all of what I said back. I say maybe a lot because nothing is certain. Only death is certain, but we aren't certain when. We just know that we die in the end, but we couldn't tell what time or date that ould be.

Just Fucking Hate Nightmares

My mom died in a dream again.

She didn't really die, she was dying. Either way, it's still bad.

Her face got suddenly yellow. There was shit on the floor everywhere.

Just Feeling Tired and Sad because of the Lack of It

I need to exercise but I'm too lazy.

Just an Unconscious Scene while Sleeping

I dreamt of my aunt still being alive, but bed-ridden in the hospital, suffering the cancer. We sang her songs. I couldn't bear to be in the room. Don't remember much. I woke up a few hours ago.

Just Wondering How It Would Feel Like

I keep imagining the manner of my death. Most of the scenes consist of my attempts of killing myself. I keep imagining what death would feel like. I like to think of the feeling somewhat is alike to the feeling before you were born. Nothingness. You did not know you existed before your birth. Maybe that is how death is like. I'd like to believe in life after death. But thinking of it now, to go on even after dying is tiresome. Who would like to be conscious forever? If life after death is the same as how life is now, but without the bad stuff, I'd rather not. I would prefer the feeling or the state we had before we existed. Try to remember anything prior to your birth. You can't, can you? Maybe that is what death is like, too. Maybe life after death does not exist. I could be wrong. I have no basis for everything I have said. I'll still continue praying for the dead, though.