The different colors society takes, and why it will always look like life to me

I don't know how to explain what I'm thinking right now. As I normally am. I'm not sure if I should explain it in a raw or poetic way. Not sure how I should color it, or if I should even paint it onto the blank slate that is this feeling. This feeling that has been growing over summer, perhaps longer. Maybe years.

This curiosity towards humanity and the world. What the rawness of it really is. If it is something. And I know that I'm not making any sense, but I never do to anyone, not even myself, so I've given up on trying, honestly.
I'll just make it up as I go along in the hope that I'll be able to at least put my thoughts into words. Even if those words seem like nonsense.

My life has always surrounded life. My childhood was always centered on imagination, the creek near my house, my family, TV, stories, fights between my brother and parents, auctions, snakes, rodents, fantasy stuff like fairies and talking animals, pets, learning to cope with the death of those pets, playing dolls in the bathtub and outside the bathtub with my sisters, Halloween costumes, the rats nest on my head others called hair, watching my older brother play video games, anxiety attacks, playing tricks on other family members with my older sister, getting excited for things like Christmas and my dad's pancakes in the morning, dreading things like social confrontation and school, long car rides, playing sword fights using sticks with my brother, waiting for my dad, trying to learn how to ride a bike, often hurting myself in the process, making games out of everyday things like walking through hallways, failing at sports, seeing new things, figuring things out, “dissecting” grass and social events. But even with my best attempt at describing it, with so many words, it was so much more than just those things. I hated school and dreaded homework. But I loved school projects and learning, especially about Egypt and the Mummification process. I loved it so much that the day we started learning about it, I could not stop talking about everything I learned to my parents. I wanted for years to make a project about mummification where I'd make mini mummies that my classmates would perform on themselves. The whole process from start to finish, with the organs, jars, wrapping, everything. I was only in second grade at the time, though, so I tried to make it all out of paper after school in my art class...and unsurprisingly failed. I got my chance to do this project in middle school, though. We were all supposed to choose topics that had something to do with Egypt from the board. Once a topic was chosen, it would be only for the person who chose it. The entire time, I hoped strongly yet as always, quietly that no one would choose mummification. Every time someone came up to the board I would stare them down as best and most menacingly as I could with my 12 year old face. Which was...pointless, really, since none of them really had any idea what topic I wanted them to stay away from. I breathed a sigh of relief each time they chose a different topic, causing my friend next to me to wonder if I was having an asthma attack or something. I was second to last to choose. I had the choice between Egyptian jewelry or Mummies. The teacher had already started reaching towards Egyptian jewelry, but I firmly told him I wanted Mummies. Everyone was silent, until the teacher broke out into a laugh and gave me the card for that topic. I remember I was ecstatic the entire time. Reading the books on the meaning behind the process, and the specifics of how they did it (though I already knew most of it) was honestly...the happiest I was in school. My favorite part was how they took the brain out. The teacher would come up to me every now and then to tell me to tell him if I started feeling sick or anything. Everyone was a little worried, but in the end, loved it. I made the mummies, the organs, the jars, out of clay and the wrapping with my parents. Each clay man had the organs inside of him, just like I wanted, and each student got their own clay corpse to mummify, just like I wanted. But making everything with my parents was really the most fun part. I remember my dad making a spin off on the song "Beauty School Dropout" from Grease called "Middle School Mummies" and sang it while helping me make the clay organs. He has always been the best in my family when it comes to using clay, but not so much when it comes to singing. I loved hearing him sing it anyways, of course. I thought it was hilarious. And would've sang it with him if I could remember the lyrics. When I finally presented my project, it was the highlight of my class and quite a few other classes that day. I first explained the meaning behind the process, then guided them through using my giant soon to be clay mummy, explaining each step, what each jar meant as much as I could in the limited amount of time I had. I explained what you would get depending on how much money and social status you had. Those who weren't in my class were asking for a mummy, those who never spoke to me before were suddenly patting me on the back and excitedly telling me how awesome that was while holding their personal mummy. Giving me smiles I never thought I would earn. Never thought they had. It was the first time I had ever been that popular, but everything returned to normal the next day. School hated me throughout Elementary school, when I still lived in Ney York. Every teacher there thought I was slow, except my favorite teachers. They thought I was a genius, along with my parents. Still can’t see why, honestly. For both those who thought I was retarded and those who thought I was really going to amount to something. I’m just like any other person, seeing things in some way. Doing things some way, living some way, believing some things. If the way I live and see and hear and believe makes me something to someone, then that's that, really. I’m not sure if I’ve given up on understanding, or if I never really wanted to in the first place. And why for so long, I would try to change what I painted on the world to change what others would paint onto me. Maybe those teachers were right. Maybe I am slow. But if I am, I am because I like to take everything in, every detail, and that takes time. Like a walk through a neighborhood, I can't tell which speed I'm going, I only take in what's around me.
But all I know is that nothing is definite. Nothing real. And that we paint onto a blank sketch to make it seem alive. But it's more than just simple plain specific colors we paint. It may have started out that way, but like an artist's skill building over time, and a story growing and adding over the course of seeing, we paint and build so much onto the world that the longer we live, the more we see, the more complicated the world becomes, the more real it feels, and the more it becomes something we feel, to the point where it’s sometimes overwhelming. Or for some very boring, but even to them, something. Colors no longer feel like colors, but muddled somethings. And in that way...earn the ability to be indescribable.
And you're probably wondering what the point of my words are. What I'm trying to prove. What the punchline is. But that's the thing. There is no punchline. No point. Because I'm still working on the painting that is life. That is me.
Colors are no longer just colors to me. And I don't know why. Because I'm not sure of anything.
I guess...if there is a meaning to this post, it would that life, to me at least, is a painting we live through.
And that painting it is the best part.

Goodnight everyone.

I feel like I should just call this world my dream journal now

More dreams about change. I'm not really sure if these ones are okay to I'll put the things that may be a trigger to some, and just plain inappropriate/out of line to others in spoilers. I'll try not to go too into detail, but you have been warned. If you feel that I've crossed the line at any point in this post, tell me, and I'll either edit out the parts you felt were too much, or delete the post altogether. After all, I'm only posting these to vent...and possible seek help from anyone who knows what they mean.
Alright. With that in mind, let's move on.

Tuesday night: This dream is a little bit...harder to describe that the one I had Wednesday night, since it's more abstract. But I'll try my best. Basically, for whatever reason, my older sister and I were sent to this experiment facility. Or at least, that's what I think it was. It seemed to be designed at first to test how well we could deal with certain situations. But later on turned into some...jail/military school...? I'm not really sure which one it was. It had the attitude and atmosphere of a jail...but I think it was just a really harsh military school/private school. Anyways, my sister and I (unsurprisingly) hated it. It tortured it's "students" and all the "teachers" almost never showed their faces, and when they did, were too far away for any of us to tackle them and escape. It was full of stupid rules, and...was sorta like SAW, actually. Except it had an entirely white and modern demeanor, like it was an airport full of Apple products or something. Anyways, for the first half of the dream, my sister and I were lucky enough to have a very nice teacher. We still disliked him for being "stern" though, because we didn't know any better. I can't really remember most of it. Most of it just consisted of random modernized tests, like we were lab rats or something. My older sister and I grew tired of it, and had an epic escape. My sister ran out, but right when I was about to, I ran into my teacher. I tried to appear strong and determined, but it was really just bravado. I thought he was going to turn me in, but he instead just sighed, gave me a few of his books, and said he was going to miss me. I nodded, touched, gave him a hug, and ran away to meet up with my sister. Then...things became dark. As I learned the truth of this place that I once thought was just...Well, not as bad as it really turned out to be.

I was sent back there for a second time. Don't ask why, I have no idea. But this time...that teacher wasn't there. I think he was fired, or he quit. I can't remember which. So sister and I got this absolute asshole for a teacher. We thought we hated that other guy...turned out we didn't even know what hate was. The other guy was just stern, this guy was a sexist pig who abused his power, which...turned out to be what every other "teacher" (except for the one who quit) there was like. I'm...just going to get right to it. These bastards turned out to be sexually abusingtheir female students as punishment. Now, I noticed this was going on a little the last time I was there. But I only suspected it, I never knew it was actually going on. Nonetheless, I pretended to be a boy just in case. I told my sister to do the same, but she didn't believe me. So we were separated, as I slept in the boys dormitory, and she slept in the girls. My disguise (Unsurprisingly. Even in real life, I kinda look like a boy.) worked for quite some time, but I was soon found out when I tried to save one of my fellow classmates during one of the experiments. So, for lying to my "higher ups" I had to be punished along with 2 other female students who were on my side. They took the three of us to the restroom, where the other two girls with were forced to perform sexual acts on each other but I was just kinda...left alone, I think? I mean, it wasn't like I was ignored. (Though I would've preferred that) In fact, my teacher wasn't even looking at them. He was just staring into the distance with this weird blank expression. It was creepy, to say the least. Even when I exited the stall, he didn't say anything. So I just left. Just like that. Just took my sister's hand and left the building, left the experiments, left everything. And they didn't say a word. It was like some kinda weird glitch in a game where all the NPCs forget what to do. The nightmare ended when we left for good.

And...That's it, really. I don't feel AS sick anymore (though I know that dream would say otherwise) because I'm actually making some progress on my game. So I don't feel as useless. Only 30% dead now. And that's mainly just physical sickness. So it's not as bad. I'd post the dream I had last night, but this post is long enough as it is. And I can't really remember much of it, honestly. Aside from the fact that my older sister and I were at some weird amusement park haunted mansion, and I spoke to an old friend of mine. Most of it was spent in a poorly built, run down unisex restroom, though. It was kinda funny, humiliating, and insightful all at the same time, really. Which I know sounds weird. But I just kinda sat there on a toilet behind a wall that barely covered my stall, and spoke to whoever came in about random shit. (pun intended)
It's just odd how many dreams I've been having lately, I guess. Or how vividly I remember them I suppose would be a better way of putting it. Normally I'd be lucky to have a dream and remember it this vividly once every few months. But now I can't get away from the damn things. It's kinda cool and scary at the same time. Scary because most of them are nightmares, cool because I love dreaming, and some really insightful things happen in them lately. Like the discussion I had with my old friend, the relationship my older sister and I had with our old teacher (the nice one)....I dunno, it's interesting. But it does sort of frighten me that...erm...sexual assault is appearing in them now so often. That's never happened before.
Again, I apologize if this post made you feel awkward or offended. If you happen to know anything about dreams, I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what some of these things may mean. I've done a bit of research myself, but I'd like to hear some other perspectives on it. Because, I mean, come one, sitting on a toilet talking to strangers must mean SOMETHING MEANINGFUL.
...Or it could just mean I should lay off the Dr. Pepper. :P

Been having a lot of dreams about change lately....And pools.

Yeah...These past days have been really...weirdly depressing, to say the least. I guess I've just been feeling really weak lately or something. Not only mentally, but physically as well. I've desperately been trying to break out of the loop by making an RPG game. But I can't program sh*t. So needless to say, all I've gotten done are the sprites. Barely even those. It's been so frustrating. Makes me feel hopeless.
Probably the weirdest part would be how all my dreams lately have had something to do with change, even though things have become so stagnant for me. Normally I'd take this as my dreams representing my lust for change...But the change in them...isn't good.

I wrote both of them down after having them..but it's not very specific, so I ask that you bear with me here:

Tuesday or Wednesday night: Dream about guy I met at pool who I liked. Reminded me a lot of an old friend. But after almost drowning a kid (on accident! I swear!) kept on trying to drown me pretending he was “just playing!” Then the dream turned into an escape one where we all had to escape from the pool because we turned out to be trapped there for later extermination. We escaped, but were all killed by the government right afterwords when we tried to meet up in this weird run down garage.

Thursday night: Dream about high school festival that, you guessed it, turned into an escape dream. As usual. Except in this one it was like...we were aiming to get something. Like we weren't trying to escape, but instead were trying to sneak in. The first half of it was mainly my Mom and I talking about random crap in a pool. Turned out my family and I (along with a friend I made during it) were trapped in a survival simulation. The friend I made was the one leading us through it, but after almost dying, turned into somebody mean and spastic who none of us could recognize. She tried to kill my dad at one point when he tried to wake her up. The dream ended there.

At some point I was worried that I may have been drowning in the first dream because I was having difficulty breathing in real life. Seeing as how I had this weird thing happen to me in the middle of the day where my hand (mainly my fingers) wouldn't stop shaking, my heart was beating really quickly, and I could barely hold a cup I was feeling so tired. Like the least I was going to do was faint. So I looked up if not being able to breathe repeatedly in a dream meant I was having trouble breathing in real life...And seeing as how it was too late in the night to actually comprehend anything (it was like, 12 AM) didn't really get a solid answer to my question. Some people said it had nothing to do with real life, even though it may feel that way. Others said that my brain could interpret that feeling as actually not being able to breathe, and that if I wake up breathless, things could get dangerous because I may not be able to tell the difference between dreams and reality. Another person said it could be sleep apnea. But I feel like that's only if I wake up breathless. Which I don't. I feel light-headed and half asleep whenever I wake up, though. Like, when I try and get up I'm suddenly flooded with anemia and am going to fall down. And sorta stay that way for almost the entire day lately. And then there was that person who said, "Water is generally a metaphor for life, do you feel like your subdued or overcome by life?"

Cats have been really obsessed with me for some reason lately too. Like, they're constantly trying to get my attention and sleep with me every night. Right next to me. Sometimes on my face. And whenever I reject them they get super pissed. Which makes me feel like they know I'm going to die soon, so they're trying to get all the love they can from me while they still can.


F*ck, man. That's depressing. I'm sorry.

I'll stop now.

I just...I dunno, I've just been feeling so sick lately. And the worst part of it is that I'm not sure if I should see a doctor or something, or if it's just all in my head. *Sigh* I'll get over it, of course. But it does mean I'm not going to be uploading as often, and what I do upload will not even be worth seeing, honestly. I mean, I know nobody really cares. Because lets face it, my art isn't exactly idolized material. Sure, it's not terrible. And I'll improve. But how many of you actually look forward to seeing what I'll post next? ...Heh. Yeah, thought so. Don't worry, it only bothers me at my lowest moments. After all, I don't draw to impress. I draw to express.
Anyways, as I do know there are at least one or two people on this site who may not idolize my art, but care about my well being...This may not be the best way to ease your worries, but I feel I should give an honest explanation so that you know ( for future reference if I don't post anything in too long) that I'm not dead. Only 40% dead.

Sorry if I seem bitter and stupid right now. I'll probably delete all this self-deprecating crap once I'm better. Don't worry, the honest eyesore won't be here for long. Nobody likes it, especially itself.

Poorly Drawn Lines

A cool webcomic I like to check out from time to time.
I'm not sure if this counts as advertising. If it does, I'm not trying to advertise it. I just wanted to show you guys it because I think it's funny.

Some of the movies I've seen (for the first time) recently

Ruby Sparks



Summer Wars (Eng sub)

Colorful (eng sub)

My Scary Girl

The Room

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

Mixed Nuts

Easy A


Movie I'm planning to see soon (soon hopefully being today):

The Uninvited