All Posts, art and photography, personal writings

Self Portraits this morning.

 

I love the human body, not particularly mine… but that’s a topic for another post. I have had trouble finding a model to work with so I took it upon myself to try and carry out a vision I’ve had for awhile. I’m sure my parents would freak out at these, but I’m an artsy person, not particularly affected by nudity, and as I said, love the human body.

I have dipped my toes into probably 70% of possible genres in the world and always make my way back to humans. Maybe it’s because I’m a closeted hopeless romantic or just have that urge within me for some reason.

Notice they aren’t full nudes, I’m not there with myself yet and probably will never be. Plus, I do have SOME internet boundaries. I just want to be creative and where I live just lacks the resources artists like myself need. I’m so bored, I’m so bored with life, I’m so depressed and everything is so bland. These pictures, for the thirty minutes it took to take them, let the colors come back into my vision. Then, as I was editing, I realized I didn’t completely hate myself or my body and that in itself is quite an achievement for me. I saw fat rolls and stretch marks and bruises and bumps and cellulite, and you know what? The body positivity that has been going around has been affective in allowing me to love my body. It’s honestly pretty weird. But… a good weird.

So, thanks for reading and subscribe for more totally emotional posts, probably in the form of poetry. Leave comments on how I can improve. (Step 1 is getting a battery for my remote so I don’t have to keep getting up every ten seconds lol)

 

P.s. I’m completely aware that the pictures could be better, I didn’t try extremely hard and I didn’t have the equipment I needed immediately available in that moment. However, I personally like the style and, in general, how they came out.

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All Posts, poetry, Uncategorized

Hunger.

Every time my stomach is empty it tells me.
But when it tells me
and I acknowledge the feeling
I bargain with it

You can’t be hungry

Look at all the extra food
stored elsewhere

Look at the number
the square tells you
you are

This means you can’t be hungry
You aren’t allowed to be hungry

What if
What if, just for a few days
You remain empty

Some of that extra food can be used
Maybe that square will finally
Read a number you can be
Excited about.

What if
What if, you deserve this.
You deserve to be empty
You deserve to growl

That cupcake
That ice cream
That bread
That pasta
That food you actually like

Was it worth it?
That food you like?
You didn’t nourish
You indulged

But my brain told me to
And my stomach was angry

You deserve to be empty

Right?

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All Posts, poetry, Uncategorized

Episodes NOT on Netflix.

My high functioning anxiety feels like…
And it also feels like…
And it kisses my forehead but its saliva seeps into my brain , and it feels like…
And my sentences are never complete because the snake wrapped around my throat feels like…
And sometimes when I think my heart is dancing it turns out it’s actually trying to escape and that, ladies and gentlemen, feels like…
And the tears in my eyes try to get me seeing with rose–colored glasses but sometimes it just feels like…
And the tears roll but there is no reason, it just feels like…
And the reason I can’t express how I feel is because I simultaneously have no feelings at all.
But when the episode ends, I’m me again, except what is me?
For, I’m not certain who I would be if there were no snake, no rose-colored glasses, or kisses on my forehead.
So next I ask, who are you?

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