I’ll be in LA for a while because my cousins want to go there and buy stuff. They want to go to some massive mall down there. My cousins are pretty consumerist if you ask me, they seem to spend a chunk of their money they earn on clothes from (insert outlet here) and like going to malls and all that. I like going to malls sometimes but not ones that are busy. There was a mall back in VA that was pretty derelict and vacant - seemingly on the brink of bankruptcy that I liked visiting. But all of the malls here are pretty busy so yeah. I need to find a hiding spot, like the one I used to have before I left; I’ve seen some abandoned supermarkets in the salt flats but they are kind of far away from where I am. In other news I might start doing commisions because I don’t want to work retail or shit like that. But I need to fill up my portfolio with paintings and sketches so It might take a while for things to ramp up.
Just moved yesterday and shit is hitting me… I’m glad that I’m somewhere new, in a place that isn’t 10000 degrees everyday and whose only natural biome is swampland (not to hate on swamps they’re just :/ ), but I’ve been signing up for classes and in the meantime I’ve been thinking about my future. I’m now an adult and it feels like everything is about to fall apart, I don’t have energy to do most things and I don't know if I’ll be able to work and do school, I just want to kill myself already. At this point I can’t find much joy in art or music and I don’t know if I’ll be able overcome my chronic mental and social problems, I just seriously doubt things will get any better seeing as I don’t have any long term goals. If there’s one thing I can focus my energy on in the meantime then it is this website, as long as I have energy to do so.
NC was good, explored a few places including some abandoned train cars in the middle of Hendersonville, they were very neat and are a good hiding spot… i don’t know why they're just stuck there, I guess they're permanently doomed to stay put. There's also a tunnel just outside of town as well, that was cool. Now nearby that town is Brevard; it’s known for its abundance of white squirrels but I never saw any around unfortunately. This town is plastered with white squirrel statues, merchandise and memorabilia - alas not a single white squirrel… how could you do this to me. I will have my revenge, mark my fucking words.
I’m currently in the mountains of NC for a while, so I’ll be away from updating but I’ll be back with more drawings. A couple days ago I went to a bass store and finally got myself a new one for when I move. I was torn between the one I got which was four strings and this other one which was five strings (low B). Although the low string sounds nice, the tone just wasn’t that great so I chose the four string one; I also like it because its has an interesting body shape to it and it really was easy to play so I think I made the right choice. Anyways, the Airbnb right now is right next to a creek with some mini waterfalls so I went out there in the evening to explore, hopefully I meet the rake while I’m exploring the woods that would be quite cool, I’m a big fan.
Yesterday, I recollected a memory, a memory that has been mostly dormant in my mind for around a decade, but it suddenly came back to me and it made me think about other things that have happened in my life and what there is to digest from them. It seems like a trivial moment in my life when I imagine it to myself, in comparison to others. Like a day hanging out with friends when I was ten, or a dreadful outburst from my father when I was fifteen, or playing Fatal Frame II at midnight with my step brother when I was nine, being in lockdown my freshman year of high school, because a boy shot himself in the head in the upstairs bathroom, or climbing a mountain, ill prepared, what seemed to be an entire lifetime and in complete solitude, only to eventually witness sights that will stick with me forever. Perhaps every memory I remember is just trivial, all lined up and on an equal playing field in my subconscious. But this one reemerged to show itself as a reminder, that for a moment makes me think about myself and about reality.
My experiences with near-death have been confined to physical dangers. A steep cliff, mist obscuring the geography below, or moments of climbing up a wall of rocks only for a moment to think it was all over, but clinging on to the hanging roots of a shrub, and eventually reaching into safety; moments of a pure inability to function, to even move, to get out of my bed to eat for days.
When I was six or seven, I was learning to swim. One day in the midst of summer I was in someone’s backyard pool and I nearly drowned. The moments leading up, I don’t entirely remember. I don’t know why I almost drowned besides I ventured into the deep end of the pool and I suppose I didn’t anticipate the change in difficulty to tread. But it happened, and maybe it was pure chaos and confusion that overtook me as I was unable to reach the surface for air. The most tranquil moment of my life happened after what preceded it, and I can remember it vividly. Staring towards the surface with eyes open, which I had never done before. For a moment I thought myself to be in a vast ocean much larger that the pool itself, without any sensations, auditory or visual of anything besides what was above me. But it is what I saw that stays with me, just the ripples and disturbances of the water, shimmering and with the occasional ray of light penetrating the surface. It was like as if things were getting darker, the surface becoming the night sky and the shimmers becoming constellations of dim stars as things began to get dark around me.
But someone saved me that day, and it all disappeared.
I once read a story about a Confederate prisoner of war who is about to be hanged by Union officers during the war between the states, and as he stands in the gallows to be executed he hallucinates his escape from execution, swimming down a river to safety, avoiding flying bullets along the way, eventually walking to his home and is being greeted and welcomed by his wife; but it all dissipates from reality and he is dead.
Just recollecting that memory makes me think of death’s slumber, a lullaby sung before going to sleep whether it is an intense hallucination like in that short story, or a tranquil abstraction of reality of what I experienced. What could it have been to follow if I wasn’t thrusted into life once again? Conveying exactly what I want to tell is difficult, my chance to save myself from pain was taken away - granted the opposite. Once is already bad enough.
So I’m over all the stuff I was talking about in the last entry, I don’t really think or believe that contemporary art needs to follow some periodic evolution that was present two-hundred years ago, its impossible to see what will happen even so. Graduation is coming up in a few days, simply a constant reminder of the question of what I’m going to do once I move. Thinking about the future, it's like staring into an abyss; I really don’t want to go to college, I really don’t want to work outside my house and I don’t see anything that I reasonably want to do with my life besides sleeping, drawing and practicing. Just the fact that I have little control over my mom’s decision to move, fuck her for that. Out of all the times to move, is this really the best time, just so she can feel satisfied being close to her family? Now I’ll have to live in the basement of my cousins’ house. Downhill I tell you. I just want to fucking die already, spare me from anymore events inevitably hurdling towards my way. These people can’t leave me alone. Nonetheless, being on Neocities more than anything else has been honestly bringing me enough joy to withstand this shitshow; I never expected this site to grow as much as it has and again I want to say thank you and I love you all.
After being involved in all of the extracurricular scholastic meetings and workshops after winning a gold medal, I can attest that the whole thing is one of the biggest circlejerks I’ve ever seen when it comes to showcasing young artists. Sitting through film kids over-analyzing scenes from obscure films and seeing kids talk about their future aspirations of going to SCAD or RISD or CALarts but nothing beyond that besides freelancing - seeing the work that some of the winners have produced make me question how the process of elimination works exactly; there are so many talented young artists who deserve this honor, and I can swear that there are young artists out there who create far better works of art in terms of thought, soul and technical skill that what is chosen as the best of the best in the United States and Canada. I can’t say that I deserve a gold medal myself, it just brings me a feeling of disillusionment. And to say that the piece that won me a national medal was one with (in my opinion) the least amount of thought, soul or technical skill, brought these judges to think to themselves “yeah this one needs a gold medal.” Is this piece really the best of the best? Are these students the best of the best? Fucking hell. It reminds me that this generation of artists will be just as lost and conceptually enigmatic as the prior generation; most will be doomed to toil in wage slavery working for advertising firms or mobile game companies or something along those lines, and aside from a few stand-out artists from last generation like Kehinde Wiley, our generation will be unable to show tooth and nail in terms of fine art’s role as a tool for change. The idea that art can change the world is one that is dying as its power is transferred to memetic agents and algorithms. Like lambs to the slaughter I tell you. Nonetheless I'm not taking the whole thing so seriously, this wont affect my future in any tangible way.
God damn it just brings me pain whenever I have to interact with my mom or her boyfriend, I just want to be left alone but they are fucking adamant on trying to talk to me and be all fucking cheerful and extroverted and shit. I hate them, why can’t I be left alone, I hate how she is bitter and nagging my ass about school or other shit one day and the next she is drunkenly jovial like nothing ever happened... and she wonders why I don’t want to talk to people, fucking hate everyone. This shit makes me so withdrawn I just want to end it so bad, spare myself of a shitty existence; I’ve already come to the conclusion that I am unable to work as wage-slave for some art firm, I don’t want to go to a college, I don’t want to talk to people in person, I don’t want social relationships and I don’t want to be seen - I just want to be alone and not have to talk to anyone ever fucking again. MUTHAFUKAS CAN’T LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE !!! I’ve decided my hiding spot if I ever have the chance to get away from society if I ever become self sufficient, but if I am in a financial doom cycle there won’t be much left. The clock is fucking ticking and it’s approaching midnight.
IT IS SO COLD IN HERE, TIS BUT EVER RAGING DUNES OF SAND…
Back in IRL school and am experiencing instant regret, I remembered how shit it truly is very quickly but at this point the margin between now and the end of the school year is too small for me to go back to home, alas. Pretty much just unnecessarily made my life harder becuz lulz y not. I’m not talking to anyone regularly in school because I’ve come to terms with my role within the social reject caste. Alas, I love no one besides my lovely Neocities followers and lurkers!!!
Going back to IRL school in two days, I’ll figure out soon if that was a terrible mistake or not. I will no longer have the ability to sleep in the middle of class if things are getting boring but hell maybe I’ll get used to it. I’ve been working on some sketch anthologies over the past few days and maybe I’ll share them soon but really they’re just for project ideas more than anything. My thesis project is still sitting in my room half complete and I’m unmotivated to the point where I can’t see myself working on it until before I move far away - but if there is anything good to come from this is that I have fresher eyes and can see some issues with that I’ve already painted that I need to fix - simply a reflection of my kenetic urge to be dead more than anything... god let me sleep.
Last weekend I went to a flea market and got some NASCAR t-shirts from ~Y2K era, for I must expand my NASCAR lore clothes. Its been half-a-year since I've gotten some new clothes so that waz nice. There was also a KMFDM shirt of all things there but alas was a men’s small and I usually wear shirts M - XL. At some point I want to rant about how much I despise """normies""" (if you will) and their infiltration of second-hand fashion and but I probably would fail in really emphasizing a point beyond putting it down as typical zombie behavior, so I’ll just put it at that - I'm sure you understand.
So, I won a gold medal for the Scholastic competition last week, which I’m glad for; its on a piece I haven’t shown anyone though so maybe I’ll put it up on here soon. Under normal circumstances I’d be going to NYC for the awards ceremony at Carnegie Hall but lol nope covid, so now I have to send a video greeting and that’s going to be embarrassing, speaking aloud is not my talent. I’ve written a script with my responses to the questions asked but it’s not polished to the point to where I can share it right now. So mostly because of winning that this past week has been pretty good. On another note, I recently fixed some things that were really bothering me we with the self portrait, its on exhibition (not Scholastic) right now but I’ll update the paintings section with new pictures once I get the chance... Anywayz working on some sketches rn.
(Writing this letter below to someone who I haven’t spoken to in a while but won’t sending it. Just writing it as if they would see it. They might think I'm fucking insane if I actually sent this.)
To you, I am writing this, do not be mistaken - sending a message in which I believe is appropriately due. If you do not think of me or care less of me, do not read further. If you wish not to take this seriously, do not read further. If you believe I am not taking this seriously, do not read further. I write this with the intention of you being with a mind open and understanding to a malady I am afraid I do not discuss very much - this could be a conclusive statement of mine toward you, something to compensate my lack of communication for months, because I am going far away and likely will not see you in person ever again. I wish to communicate this without reprise or hearkening, malice or otherwise. Of this year and the year prior I have become immersed in a life of antisocial isolation, an almost vampiric sense of living. Since March of 2020 I have lost 20 pounds have experienced episodes of crippling emptiness which has almost sent me into institutionalization along with a senseless sleep schedule. However I am an antisocial being, so I say nothing. An increasing trend in my mind has led me to consciously dismissing emotion during certain periods which has afterwards led me to feelings of both humiliation and content and occasional dwellings into my childhood memories that I believe has shaped me for the worse. But at times, when a loved one dies and I feel nothing, or when disturbing events occur in my life or otherwise and again I feel nothing. I must think to myself of what is wrong with me. Nonetheless I must wear the mask of normalcy, I simply wish not to be pestered by doctors or psychologists or who ever else. However I fear that the emptiness is growing. What I find in myself left is something that I am unsure of, perhaps a lasting attempt to leave a mark on other people, however at this point whether I want that mark to be “good” or “bad” I feel indifference to both. When I say these things to you I am meaning it, I wish not for you to feel any intimidation or feelings to talk to me any further, I wish to be conclusive. Whatever endeavors you take I wish you the best. Do not waste time, we are running out of it. But believe me when I say this that your very effect me used to bring me to my emotional peaks and valleys, but now my emotional landscape is gone. If only you would have seen what I have done, let alone thoughts of mine - how I have changed, what I have been up to. But if you remember, the only question I wish to ask - do you remember the times we have been together? Because I have forgotten them and I feel little of them, perhaps I will recount later in life, but I am certain that I am closer to the end that the beginning, perhaps I won’t experience such things again in a short timeframe. Nonetheless, take care of yourself, goodbye.
It's been half-a-year since I've started working on this website and none of my IRL friends (that I know of) have found this site yet. Some may get the rush of telling secrets but I love keeping secrets. All yall seeing this are tha tru homies fr, all these other mfz on *nstagram btfo lole. I've decided to risk posting my thesis project on insta instead of linking this site, don't care if it gets taken down. I'm sure this site will be found eventually, it shall be a dark day indeed. In other news, I won 4 gold keys from the Scholastic Art Competition which are basically regional medals given to individual pieces; there are honorable mentions, silver and gold keys and the gold keys are judged on the national level for silver and gold medals. I find out in mid-March if anything good comes from that, wish me luck…
I'm so fucking infuriated right now. I've been searching in my car and in my house for my wallet for the past few hours and I am pretty sure it was stolen. It had a fair amount of cash in it and had my licenses and shit. There is a chance it is just lost and I could find it somehow but at this point I am just going to accept it; all that cash, just gone. I didn't have a job over the summer so I am just losing and never gaining, fucking insane. This type of shit is what fuels my numbness, anger and worldly detatchment, this stuff fucks with me even if I present to others that 'its not a big deal'. I just want to be alone and never have to engage in things what would eventually result in this type of fuckery. Seriously, I just want to become a hikikomori and just paint and draw and only interact online; I want to live in a small house in the middle of Iceland and not have to see another living human. I just cannot be left alone; especially now because I agreed to move to Salt Lake City in with my cousins after I finish school and this basically means I'm going to at least have to live with other people around for another two goddamn years... fuck... I'm unsure if I can take much longer of this shit.
I found the wallet it was outside on the sidewalk between my car and my house :| ... I am exhausted belive I shall go get some food now, I haven't eaten yet today.
Last night I had the most dreadful stomach pain I’ve ever had. I have no fucking clue what triggered it, I hadn’t eaten that day so whatever happened there I’m unsure. I wasn’t able to sleep until maybe 5am and a few times I felt like vomiting but nothing came of that. I was just writhing in my bed for hours until the pain died down to the point where I was able to sleep. I feel better now so I guess I can forget about that... This past week I’ve been working on my thesis project and have basically been trying to fix mistakes before I begin detailing; I’m fearful that when I’m done with the piece there’ll be some issue that completely ruins the painting… basically I don’t want this painting to go to shit. On another note there is a story I wish to tell that happened a couple weeks ago but its a part of a saga that would require its own entry so I'll work on that later; probably something that can be incorperated into when I talk about my tales of school perhaps...
My thesis project is underway after a period of reworking the original design I had in mind; I chose to redo my entire design for this project thanks to the essay where we needed to explain for 10 pages what our """concept""" and our """inspiration""" was. Thanks to this new design I was able to talk on and on in my essay about artificial intelligence and was able to quote books and such things like Norbert Weiner's book Cybernetics. This painting will be the largest thing I've ever worked on, the canvas is 4ft by 5ft; it is in the underpainting stage as of now but hopefully it should be done by December or January. The design has nudity and some blood/gore so just in case if *nstagram takes takes it down when I post it I will link this site for my followers to see it uncensored. That's why I've put a password login protecting this journal, however the password is accessable through inspect element so I need to figure out how to fix that :/ . I've also been thinking about college and have mostly thought about taking community college to get an associate's degree and continue from there, either to go to a big art school in the United States (with the most amount of scholarships I can get my hands on) or move to Europe and freelance. I'm thinking towards the latter because I cannot imagine being able to be creative when I am doing stuff I could be doing for free at home with the prospect of working for a souless entity after paying unimaginable amounts of money to SCAD, RISD, or any of these other slaughterhouses. So in the end if I am able to get a full ride scholoarship or maybe a tier below that to one of those, I will go; otherwise, fuck off no way. I just want to be an independent creator who is unassociated with corprate entities; creativity is the only reason I am alive.
To make a long story short, my grandma died unexpectedly after falling in her bathroom on the morning of Nonidi 29 Vendémiaire (Tuesday October 20th) and I’m basically back in Utah until Sunday. I was able to see my cousins and that was pretty refreshing to get some irl social interaction. Like always I have a difficult time feeling ways I should be feeling in accordance to the situation. I wasn’t affected by her death very much even though she was the only grandparent who I have gotten to know. She was the second of my grandparents to die after when my grandfather on the other side of my family died on my birthday; again I did not feel sad when I wanted to regardless and it was frustrating. I suppose it is something I have to live with but it heavily reminds me of my approaching mortality whenever events like this happen. I know there will be people who may be affected by my death but it is simply something I do not consider on an emotional level. Anyways, my cousins and I sifted through some of her old jewelry and coins and stuff and I took a gold $10 coin, which is only around the size of a dime considering the amount of gold the coin is composed of, as well as these diamond earrings with a necklace I will probably keep for a future girlfriend or something like that; my cousin took some rings with emeralds and some other assorted coins. Everything this week has been very impromptu and in a way I can appreciate moments where there is no schedule and separate moments could mean being in different ends of the country. School, as always, has been ass and this particular project I’m working on in Art Senior Synthesis is just… pure aids. It's a 10 page essay explaining one’s thesis artwork and what it “represents” and what's “message” it's trying to send like, let me tell a story through a piece of art instead of babbling and ruining the nuance of a pieces mystery; truly a waste of time, I guess it's preparing us for the aspergic circlejerk of art college virtue signaling and painfully straightforward allegorical explanation. Not related to this topic but I want to keep working on the formatting of this site and potentially purchasing a domain sometime soon, we shall see...
Next weekend I am going to west(ern) Virginia to go bikeriding on this (mostly) downhill trail, I've been there before and I hope that I'll have the opportunity to explore this town I'm staying at on my own just to be alone outside. I've been walking on a certain set of traintracks near my house everyday for the past few weeks - walking for a couple miles just listening to music until I reach a bridge that overlooks a river. Usually I just hang around for half-an-hour or so all alone; there aren't a lot of people who pass through these tracks. Today while I was at the bridge I was listening to Schoenberg's Gurreleider and just sitting on a support beam under the bridge itself for pretty much the entire duration, just looking at the water; I was there for around 2 hours and came home later. I don't really think about much when I sit over there, my mind just goes blank when I stare into the water. Occasionally I think about my future; I am nearer to the end of my life than to the begining; I do not plan to live to old age, I can attest to such. It is difficult for me to imagine life in my twenties, let alone life beyond that. That is essentially the extent to what I think about when I am there. I do not know if I will be able to thoroughly enjoy this trip beyond the bike ride, realistically I will probably sleep for the rest of the time I am out there, it's all I wish to do really. Being able to sleep for eternity is my greatest fantasy; spending the rest of time in a dreamlike limbo without a worry the world, experiencing things with others I have never been able to express in the real world. I don't keep a dream journal, but most of my dreams are usually adventure stories or perpetual instances problemsolving with occasional run-ins with some girl I like or maybe seeing a friend or two along the way. I rarely dream, maybe once-a-month and for the most part I can only remember what goes on in them for a couple minutes after waking up. --- [REDACTED]. Maybe its because I am a sociopath, but I enjoy the chase and feeling of having a crush on someone earlier on during conversation, calculating what I say to be more figurative and subliminal when I DM and shit which probably has a negative effect on the other person. I think I take a sick pleasure in timing my responses to be longer or shorter in duration between texts to see what kind of effect it has on what they say in DMs and what they say in public posts or stories later on. Its not exactly malicious per se but just something I find intriguing in a fucked sociopathic sense. Now just to be clear I'm doing some wierd fucking manipulative talk or anything close to that. Maybe I just truly love being alone and engaging in socialization and chasing is a side gig; I hate that about myself. I just want to be able go talk to people normally without fucking shit sideways and eventually fading back into loneliness, but being lonely is something I hold onto. It is what I know best, it's why I love sleeping and walking on the traintracks and drawing and practicing and shit like that. Anyways, thank you everyone for the growth this site got +4k views in a week I'm glad people are able to see what I am working on and what I am thinking that people in real life don't know about.