#batman#dc#dc comics#bruce wayne#tim drake#dc fanart#batfamily#dick grayson#batfam
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Entry One
I almost spiralled again today, i've come to the realization that the smallest thing can cause me to spiral and go insane. I coloured and sat on the floor, it did not help. What appeared to stop my spiral before i went too far was the shower. Feeling the steaming hot water crash into my neck and onto the back of my ears. I quite literally drowned the thoughts out. I'm exhausted mentally, but i'm not spiralling. I will be safe for now as i have music.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Wed Aug 23rd Entry #1
I’ve recently begun work on a vegan activism video. It will feature a song from Bright Eyes and be inspirational, emotionally heavy, but hopefully up-lifting. I’ll use found footage from famous youtubers Earhling Ed, Joey Carbstrong, James Aspey, and more. Wish me luck! Follow me on social media to get updates on everything I’m working on and my future activism.
What kind of solarpunk content would you like to see?
Entry One
i guess this is where i start — a corner for contradictions, where proof, belief, and logic don’t argue, they work together.
i’m belladonna. i write about astrology, law of assumption, reality shifting (or whatever it is formally agreed by everyone to be called), marxism, politics, history, metaphysics — everything that seems to not go well together but i make them work somehow.
♐︎ belief fascinates me, religion makes me question, how history is told from all sides makes me wonder. possibilities make me believe. what-ifs make me write. And morals — our collective and fragile morals — make me defy what most agree is right and wrong.
i spend a lot of time reading about theories no one fully agrees on. i write as i learn — messy, wrong at times, always revising. i believe contradictions are needed to be lived with.
this blog will be full of mistakes and edits and thoughts i might change my mind on later. i think that is the point.
if you are curious, if you think in circles, figuring out what to believe, looking for guidance — stay awhile.
signing off,
belladonna ♡
i'm not here to impress you
i’m not here to be perfect or pretty
i’m not dressing up or picking up a brush dictionaries and political correctness abandoned
no please or thank yous or excuse mes cause i’m not here to impress you
barefoot and bare faced messy hair and sweatpants
misspelled and grammatically incorrect soul exposed messy, raw, honest
i’m not here to impress you or me
i just came to be.
half of entry one because i got anxious about it.
I feel alone. Despite having family around me constantly, friends that I see once a week. I feel alone. That if I was to disappear from their lives it would only make theirs better and they would carry on fine. Maybe this stems from the feeling that I always get coming up on my birthday, which is that everyone hates me but the other side of me tells me it's the truth. I have eight days until I turn twenty-two. At this point in my life I thought, well, that I would be more adult. That I would have a job, a degree and probably a stable relationship but instead all I have is a certificate and perhaps depression and multiple other mental problems.
When I was twelve, I had it all planned out. Go to high school, go to uni, finish that at twenty-one or twenty-two and then by twenty-five have children. And well I did go to high school and finish, going to uni is certainly out of the question as one with my brain will never pass a test. So here is the plan for the rest of this shitty little year. Well it's been two shitty years but I’m focusing on this one because it is the present. I am going to make the most of it, so that I can go swinging into the next becoming the woman that I want to be.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Entry 1
It all started when I turned 16, it was like one day people started commenting on how I looked, especially if it was a family member. All my extended family members commented on my physical appearance, especially if it was their first time meeting me. I am in no way complaining, all the comments pushed me into a job that expanded my personality, experience, and love for life.
Let’s rewind to when I was a kid and give some back story; from ages 4-6 I along with my older sister and brother took piano lessons, then from 6-7 my brother and I played baseball for half a season. For seven years I did not have any extracurricular activities except for hanging out with friends and reading. From ages 14-17 I took voice lessons and was in a choir. By the end of high-school I felt like I had nothing going for me. So in a sense my physical appearance saved me some money (post secondary school), help me make money (to be revealed), and gave me the opportunity to travel the world.
The beginning of my story starts in 1996; and although, it would be interesting to dig up all the skeletons, as a writer it is important to leave some mystery to the story. All will be revealed soon (foreshadowing).
The Consequences of Photographing Original Art
Why is it that some museums won’t allow tourists to photograph art, yet millions of pictures can be found online? It is a matter of principle. When you photograph a piece of art, what you are seeing is no longer the piece of art, but a copy of it. A copy can never bear the same weight of value as the original. Imagine if everyone had a copy of a Starry Night hanging in their bedroom, or the Mona Lisa as their dining room conversational piece? All the mystery and wonder that comes with viewing art with one’s own eyes has been lost to reproducibility. In the above image, you see a person holding their smartphone up to a painting, admiring the photo they just took of it. Now, what was once one sole and original object, now has a cheap image of it. The phone image is also darker, smaller, and cannot provide the same contrast and detail that in-person viewing offers. Now the perspective of the art has shifted from original creation, to a cheapened and unfulfilling copy, lacking all interest, and only serving as a sort of visual bragging rights to those who you share it with. It is almost a sort of negative exposure of the painting, taking photos not to appreciate - as photographing would not be appreciating - but to mimic, and that is not flattery to the work and dedication put into each crafted piece of art.
the pilot
like every great show ;) episode one is always the pilot | thus is my pilot entry to my new blog- so far I am feeling motivated to use tumblr to express my daily encounters and honest thoughts - I really want to find a way to use my time as well. maybe blogging will become a new hobby (I really have no hobby’s anymore)
I prefer typing over penciling- that is why I am not doing this in a journal, also tumblr is free and who doesn’t like free? (Journals are expensive) especially because I AM that person that wants the super nice leather, flexible, elegant journal.. those are like $30+ | no thank you |
unsure if I will be able to keep up with this blog, I can envision myself doing this for maybe a few weeks and then forgetting about it but I am hoping to keep doing it, the idea seems fun, maybe a bit of clichè but I figure why the hell not
not sure if I will keep doing hashtags, the idea of this being public is still a little weird to me {granted no one is going to take the time to read any of this} so it really doesn’t matter, might as well keep typing.
yes I am aware that I have the ability to post privately - the thought of taking all this time to “diary” & to spend my time creating a blog that I want people to see, it feels weird to me to post private. maybe I want someone to read what I am posting.
so fu*k it -- let’s do this thing
