I've updated my art blog.

My life/winter break is now one big fucking circle, and it's weird, but whatever.
I don't care to explain.
But it seems that once I've concluded all men are terrible, they take an interest. And, regardless of them taking an interest or not, they are still terrible creatures. Horrible horrible beings. But alas, the second level of hell beckons.

Ah well, I don't believe in god anyways.

I noticed recently that my pants aren't fitting right. Usually they stay pretty tight at least right after I wash and dry them, and then they get loose from wear, but they have been loose all of the time now. My belt has been just hanging as well-- and I don't think belts get loose from wear. So I decided to try on a bunch of stuff that I haven't worn in a while-- like the dress I wore to the ELYs and the black cut off pants I wear in the summer and conclusion is that I lost a lot of fucking weight.
Holy shit, I don't even know what I must have looked like before because the waist of that dress is falling halfway down my hips.

But I seriously don't know what I looked like before because my mirror makes everyone look fat no matter how skinny you are. So uh. It's all the same.

Guh. I usually feel the impulse to dye my hair or cut it all off when I feel a change in myself or if I want to change myself, but I guess losing a bunch of weight, painting my nails black (go lady club!) and waiting around for my hair to grow long and healthy is good enough for now. The gradual change seems healthier mentally anyways.

Time to take a fucking nyquil and pass out.
I had a really weird dream last night but now I forget it-- shit. It was probably cause of the nyquil. I'll try and remember tonight if I have any.