DREAMS OF A LOST MOONCHILD

I truly and honestly hate everything I make. It’s a curse, when you also want to share everything you see and learn with others, because shared knowledge is gained knowledge.

But mine is never enough. it’s never as I want it to be. And also people don’t give a fuck, like no one gives a fuck about this blog entry. Really in some weird way that is comforting, self loathing is like a blanket of crippling depression that I can snuggle up in, and lose myself.

it’s warm, it’s home.

I am a project bullimic, I know that. I start a million things, and I aquire a million things to do them – and then lose intrest completely. I don’t lose interest because I am fickle. I lose it because I suck. Come on man, even I can see it sucks, and I still try and soldier on, telling myself that others make stuff that is worse. But here is the thing, I don’t care about others. I want my shit to be as great, or not at all.

And guess what – it’s never great.

That is also why I am going to rearrenge my blog, and other side projects. Rearrenging is basically just deleting, and before anyone says something – which you won’t cause no one reads this anyways. Then You didn’t know those things were even there before mentioned here. What is the point of making an announcement, when zero people see it. none, you’re right.

And here I am talking to myself like a fucking psycho.

Why am I even writing this?

Fuck this shit.

EDIT: First part of the great purge is done, and I feel better. I don’t know why I do this to myself, it feels like some fucked up cyclus that I don’t understand. I swear I am not manic/depressive or borderline. But I have just done this so many times, and in reality I am about the most introvert extrovert you will ever meet. Cause I am actually pretty easy going, and I like communicating and getting exited about things. And then suddenly the elastic band just snaps, and I retract back into my hole and hate myself for putting myself out there. And it’s not like I know what the triggers are, because if I did, i’d avoid them – durr.

Most likely I am my own trigger. Like I stress myself out untill nothing is fun anymore.

And if you knew my mind, you’d know it’s amazing that I still breathe, no one in the world could ever hate me more than me. Once in a while I just need to dissappear and shed my skin – returning like weeds.

You can still get to the graphics catalogue here, I just took down the link.