PHAGOCYTES EAT COCCI Every year I try to live a whole new lifetime. In the spring, I am born anew, my birthday is at the tail end of winter, and I begin to wake up. Spring is when I feel young and energetic and new, Summer is when I work best and my creative drive and energy is at its max In the Fall I begin to retire, relax, and still create, but grow slowly more sedentary, and I am more content during this time if it was a productive spring and summer. Winter is when I begin my twilight, I reflect a lot here, and if I do not meet my own standards for that year, I feel like a life has been wasted during this time, and grow somber. I pass, and sleep much, dormant even when awake for the most part, until March, when my birthday passes, and I am born again for a whole new year of what is hopefully full of wonder and experiences. Some people from previous “lifetimes/years” are still there, others are not, and I do much to try and remember all of them who are gone, and continue my relationships with those who are still around. I have lived 27 full lifetimes of experiences, each unique to its year, through some of them look like other previous ones at times. I am in the spring of my 28th year, a new life to cherish and make wonderful, with hope and hard work. So far, things have been a bit rocky, and at other times, smooth sailing. I am grateful for all that I have currently, and will cherish what I get in times to come, and try to learn from the bad that I know will inevitably happen sooner or later in the future. I will HAVE a future if I have anything to say about it! I must not lose my introspective nature, but must ALSO try to be more extroverted and understanding. This 28th lifetime, I must try to influence people for the better, and do all I can do to lessen my burdens from my own shoulders, and those who share the burden of me upon theirs undeservedly. I must remember to have fun, but not at others expenses, and work when I must, and do what is needed to obtain that work.
Most of all, I must remember this creed, and hopefully inspire others to follow it as well, to embrace their own unique intelligence, and live with starry wonder in their eyes at the majesty that is all around us. Being mature doesn’t mean losing wonder, or thirst for knowledge, and settling into one thing. Being mature is finding balance and moderating oneself in all facets of life.
—-A pattern I realized I have today May 18th, 2013
If you want to know what color and things I think of when I hear your name, message me your name! If you don’t want to post your name, private message me and I’ll tell you in secret. Example: My name, “Hannah” is pumpkin orange, a color I didn’t initially like, but then again, I didn’t initially like myself as a person. I do now. This is what I think of when I hear my name:
Will be training to drive an old school, 19th century style horse carriage Friday! I get to wear a tuxedo and top hat and EVERYTHING if I get the job!
Oh this is gonna be pimp shit. I wonder if I can find a monocle and pimp cane anywhere too?
I GET TO DRESS LIKE I’M GOING TO THE OPERA FOR MY JOB IF I GET IT FUCK YEAH
The biggest plus is that I’m friends with the owner of the company. :D THIS CANNOT FAIL
I may need a spiffy handlebar mustache too if I can find one. spx:
jamescrabb:
Here is an easy guide on how to draw hands! reblog with your results!
I love tutorials.
(via superpants42) I have officially avoided joining the 27 club. I DID NOT DIE THIS YEAR Hell yeah! Suck it, 27 club!
YOU DIDN’T GET ME THIS TIME GADGET
Now to hope I don’t join the 28 club. :D  Just a little something I came up with today.
You’re welcome  Me and friends, circa 1999. I’m the one in all black holding the book on the lower left. A year later, I would move to Arkansuck, and the good memories would stop being made.
MAN…time flies. I feel old looking at this. Apologies on the desertion. Sorry I have been MIA for some time now, kids. It hasn’t been a pleasant winter for me, and many around me. I haven’t even really drawn anything in months…if you knew me, you’d know that is an INSANE amount of time to NOT draw.
The shitstorm started in early December, when I wrecked my SECOND CAR and totaled it because I was tailing too close and the person in front of me made a sudden stop without a turn signal, because they OMG NEEDED TEH SONICS NAO…her car was fine, scraped a little, but fine. My whole front end was gone. I’ve no money to replace the car, so I’m pretty much a penniless hobo now with nothing but my own two feet to carry me. I’ve been pretty much holed away in the house since. Week long stretches happen where I don’t leave the house. And of course, nobody will give me a job still. It’s like being 19 all over again, except in two days, I’ll be 28. Time is ticking, and I have nothing much to show for this entire decade of my existence. I also got a ticket on top of the wreck, so I cost MY PARENTS a couple hundred dollars, which I am extremely embarrassed about.
My teeth have begun to become irreparably decayed as well, having no income to get medical or dental coverage of course, so I will have a pretty large hole in my smile soon. The soft pulp has become exposed and it is painful frequently. I also still have that abscess that is slowly but surely wearing down my heart valves. It could also turn tumorous any day of course. But hell, who knows? Since I’ve never been to a gyno or a boob doctor, and I haven’t had a physical evaluation since I was a teenager, that could already be happening and I would be none the wiser.
I worry about this, because it seems that all my childhood friends and classmates are coming down with and dying of cases of the dreaded C word. A childhood friend of mine died last year of skin cancer, and NOW my best friend, my “Daroga”, so to speak, who I have known since fourth grade, has come down with invasive stage III breast cancer. She’s my sanity anchor. Our souls are SO damned entwined that we’re practically two sides of the same coin: one side light (her) and one dark (me). The good news is that she should respond well to the chemo, but the diagnosis was only made two days before her birthday last month, at the end of the month. I am looking for a way back to Michigan now, so I can be with her. She was always there for me, and I have no doubt in my mind I would be DEAD by my own hand if not for her. At one point in my life, she was my only friend in the world, and I had experienced and especially rough day of bullying, so I went home to seal the deal and wrap this life up, but then I thought “I cannot leave Kelli behind”, and I held out for her, because we were only each others friends. She was my conscience too (which is why I call her my “Daroga”), when I would become enraged and looking to shed somebodies blood, as I was wont to do when I was younger, she’d always be the rational voice who would always calm me down. LOTS of ass didn’t get kicked because of her. She would also constantly chide me to “Get out of bed! The world is passing you by!” when I was depressed. Time to repay the endless amount of support and good memories that she gave me, and continues to give me.
On top of all that, I was forced to take my cat of 12 years in and have him put down. He was suffering I realize, but I thought maybe if I hold out just a BIT longer, he’ll recover. I never found out what was wrong with him, though Renal Failure is probably what was wrong. He was my baby. The one who would hold my hand with his paw of his own accord, who could say my name, who would follow me like a toddler through the house, who always wanted to be with me. My little panther pal. That was one of the most PAINFUL things I’ve ever had to do. I remained angry and distant trying to keep the tears back for most of the…’occasion’, but as soon as I had to touch him, which I knew would be for the last time, I became so wracked with grief that I couldn’t breathe, so it sounded as though someone was suffocating in the vets office. I am rarely rendered mute with grief, but I was THAT day. I dearly miss him, and I still catch myself looking behind me to see if he’s following me. Of course, he isn’t. He’s in the ground.
It seems the ground is steadily becoming the home of many of my loved ones this past year. I’ve already declared 2013 a fucking disaster. Didn’t even take two months in to earn THAT decorated title!
So…apologies for being gone. Perhaps I will be back and more regular in my increasing desire to enter a fantasy realm and never emerge into this world again. Surrender yourselves to the music…OF THE ANGELS.
WARNING: KNOWN TO CAUSE TERMINAL LULZ. APPROACH WITH CAUTION A video blog? Should I start one? In B-horror black and white? Because artistic? Next time you're humping the boob tube, check it out: all the food commercials pimp out their shit like it's a new great street drug. This does the opposite of make me want to eat. No wonder I've lost 40 pounds. - Friend:boob tube?
- Me:PLEASE tell me you know what that means. Come on, it isn't THAT old a lingo!
- Friend:nope, no idea
- Me:Fucking REALLY dude? T___T It means TELEVISION. TELEVISION. God! You children and your fancy NEW words...
- Friend:lol sorry..when you said boob tube i thought you meant something else
- Me:Called a "tube" because old televisions used to employ a "Cathode Ray Tube" in their infrastructures, "Boob" because that word meant "idiot" before it meant "pair of breasts". @__@
- Me:So basically the same as "idiot box".
- Friend:oh..i thought boob tube was a porn site or something
- Me:-facefuckiingpalm- Well...I'm SURE it is, somewhere. Fucking damned internet.
- ----
- This is why I can't have nice things.
Something has changed…Now…the ghost is scared…he cannot float, he is heavy. He’s flesh and blood. He must open doors…he can’t slip away unseen…The ghost is sad…all those years invisible …haunt him now. Why didn’t he try…? Or care…or be…The ghost is happy. He is found…he is held…and he is seen. The ghost is seen.
Tyler’s Monologue, “Enlightened” Season 2 Episode 5 “The Ghost is Seen” OH. AH MY. AH GOD.
THEY FINALLY COMBINED 2-D AND 3-D ANIMATION SEAMLESSLY.
I’ve been saying they need to do this for YEARS. THEY FINALLY DID IT GUYS! LOOK AT THIS MAJESTY  -snicker snicker-
I’ll BET he DOES!
“Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an’ tho’ a cloud’s shape nor hue nor size don’t stay the same, it’s still a cloud an’ so is a soul.”
David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
(via morvenn-deactivated20130213)
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RSSThe Tumblr you glare at is that of H.E Sharps: Artist, Biology geek, Slave, Musician, Vagabond, Vigilante.
Phagocytes Eat Cocci. Down with Lymphocytie. Boardwalk Empire fan, The Walking Dead fan, Metal-head with a heart of plush. |