I’m not deleting my blog. However, it’s not a coincidence that I basically have not touched this place in basically over a year. Life isn’t what it used to be and I don’t know what the future holds, whether it be art, or anything else really. I just don’t know what I’m meant to do here yet, and I feel like the few of you who followed me at least deserve to know what’s up. So this is goodbye for now. Every follow, reblog and comment meant the world to me and I thank you for them. As of now however, consider this blog as merely a gallery. Perhaps someday I will return with my passion for creating restored, and perhaps not. Only time will tell. Thank you, and happy holidays.
And it’s here.
Stop by and stuff because I love you c:
Tags: Post id: 81902694544 Date: Sun, 06 Apr 2014 13:57:42 Post url: http://0particle.tumblr.com/post/81902694544/hey-so-umm Slug: hey-so-umm Reblog key: aAFy9Mxs Reblog url: Reblog name: Title: Hey so umm...I need to art more and art better. Soooo I made an ask blog! It’ll be fun and have story and ponies and stuff. Let’s see how this goes c:
Check it out here: http://theroyalsblood.tumblr.com/
Tags: 0particle, art, ask, My Little Pony, what am I doing Post id: 47462835186 Date: Mon, 08 Apr 2013 12:18:01 Post url: http://0particle.tumblr.com/post/47462835186/question-for-my-watchers-thoughts Slug: question-for-my-watchers-thoughts Reblog key: fv8BFz6z Reblog url: Reblog name: Title: Question for my watchers. Thoughts?I’m kind of on the fence about the matter of posting explicit art here. If you’d like to see more out-there stuff in addition to business as usual (or as usual as my art gets), please tell me in a response or message. If not tell me and I’ll find some other place to deliver the content.
Tags: Post id: 30756640692 Date: Sun, 02 Sep 2012 18:46:00 Post url: http://0particle.tumblr.com/post/30756640692/it Slug: it Reblog key: o84Y3s1V Reblog url: Reblog name: Title: It.Every kid is told by their parents that monsters don’t exist, and every kid insists they do, until they give up their playful fantasies. I was different, because mine was real. I was a young girl the first time I had seen it, I was with my mom on an errand to the grocer. We stopped by in the parking lot next to the cornfield. I looked out the window and there it was, standing amongst the cornstalks. As soon as my mother loosened my death grip on the seatbelt and dragged me, kicking, out of the car, I looked again, only to see it run away.
The next time I saw it I was ten. I was walking home from school to go read at my favorite tree. It was planted in a grassy lot, with a rope swing attached. I didn’t realize until too late that something was amiss. The birds had stopped singing, and the air was cold. The second I rounded the corner to the lot I froze. There it was, under the tree, sniffing around. I backed away as slowly as I could before it rose up and stared straight at me. We locked eyes for some of the longest seconds of my life, until it eventually broke its gaze and bolted out of the lot and out of sight. I ran the entire way home.
It kept far from then on, though it didn’t make me feel any better. It would always be there, in the distance. It would bet there on top of a hill, or hidden in some trees, watching me from afar until one night in August when I was fifteen. I awoke after midnight to the sound of something hitting my window. I slowly made my way to it and drew the curtains back, only to see it standing there in our driveway, a pebble dropping from its mouth. I ran back to my bed and sobbed under my covers. Outside, it bellowed. All the dogs in the neighborhood joined in. The next half hour I only remember as a cacophony of dogs howling, owners swearing, and “it” crooning. I didn’t move to see what was happening, or slept, out of fear, but it wasn’t in the driveway by the time morning came.
As time went on, I began to expect its presence. It never stopped filling me with fear whenever I saw it, but it stopped catching me off-guard. Through high school I would see it down in the field near school wandering around. Or just planting itself somewhere in the grass, and staring into space. It always left just before school got out. As if it knew the time. It terrified me.
The day I went to college I was elated, I was finally getting to live on my own, and get the higher education I’d always wanted. I’d chosen a school in the city, where the small town monotony wouldn’t follow, and hopefully, neither would “it”. I pulled up to my dormitory driveway, waving to passerby as I got out of the car with my suitcase. I skipped up the path to the porch and froze, dropping my suitcase. It was there, asleep on top of the roof. I reeled and screamed. It jolted awake and cried as it fell from the roof, hitting the ground with such force that my suitcase snapped open. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was “it” stumbling away at full gallop. That night I lay in bed hugging my pillow close. It was following me.
After the incident, I grew more fearful of seeing it. The city didn’t bar it from me, it just made it bolder. It would hide in the alley across from a restaurant and watch me. I saw it dash between cars in the street, or leap across buildings, always there, always tormenting me. I returned home from class once to find a bunch of tree branches on my doorstep, a long piece of sheet metal had been bent around them, with a dead possum lying on top. That was it. I’d had enough. I was alone. I was vulnerable. And I was scared. What did this thing want? Was I insane? Was I going to die? Why. Wouldn’t. This. Thing. Leave?
Two nights after that, I was in my car on the way back to my dorm. I had gone to the movies to relax my nerves; romantic comedies are good for that. I hadn’t seen it anywhere. I pulled up to the driveway expecting it to be sleeping on the house again. It wasn’t. Something was wrong. I got out of my car, there were no crickets chirping. I unlocked the door to the house. Everything was dark inside. I made my way up the stairs, shaking, feeling my way through the silent house. I finally found my room. With trembling hands I drew out my key, and unlocked the door. I held my breath as I opened it. Standing there, in terrifying glory, was “it”. I couldn’t move. It stepped closer. I couldn’t breathe. It stepped closer again. I saw it reach out for me. I didn’t think, I turned to run but it was faster. It knocked me over onto my back and pinned me down, towering over me. I didn’t scream, this was it, it finally had me in its grasp and now it would kill me. I lay there and prayed, tears rolling down my face. It lowered its head down to take its first bite of my flesh. I didn’t look at it; I could feel its hot breath on the side of my face. This was the end. It opened its mouth, brought its head close, and with the voice of a dying forest, whispered:
“I love you.”
(This was a short story I wrote recently for a literary arts magazine we put together over the course of a week at school. Hope you enjoyed it.)