Gemyu

Ive always wanted a community to grow in. A collection of artists or creatively minded people who you could come and chat with, learn with, grow or bitch with. I grew up in a big family so the framework of being able to come in and talk to someone, anyone, at any time really just stayed as part of a deep desire of mine. I tried looking for it over the years; I went to DeviantArt and uploaded when i was a baby artist, commenting on others work and hoping to make friends that way. It moved all over the internet, joined discords, ect. I have come away empty. Its not for lack of want; I want it so bad it hurts. The groups ive mingled in however have had their social pitfalls that fell in head first on more than one occasion. DA had a person i cared and this person completely skewed lines of friendship that made me feel like i was going insane. I became something i wasn't with this person, and I eventually had to make the choice to step away. Others i met and it felt like id know them all my life, only for those connections to fall to the wayside, mostly due to my depression and inability to communicate. I want to be more, but i feel both like an atom bom and a sneeze at the same time. Too much, not enough. Too much, not enough. it makes me feel so tired.

they say youre not supposed to use this as a diary. I probably would agree if i didnt think that somehow these notes into ether can reach some sort of cosmic/energy source and bounce to people who've left this particular shade of existence. Notes to the dead are encouraged via therapy, But so is journaling and ive been historically bad at that. Its supposed to make you feel better. Ive tried it and im not sure how. Overwhelming feelings don't stop being overwhelming just because you wrote them down. 'Processing' is a word I never got the meaning of because what do you mean i have to acknowledge and accept? what does 'processing' the 'unprocessable' look like? Can you process grief? Rage? It feels like the word refers to small inconvieances and moments that you can understand through a shift in perspective. "ah yes, ive processed the fact that this person is a douchebag, because he is unloved by his dad and therefore lashes out.' what about the persistant ' i cannot leave this place because the pain is too great" processing? how do you even break apart tiny shards of something so massive, so overwhelming as mourning a life you thought you'd have? waking up at nearly 40 and seeing that you walked away from the love of your life with nothing? what then? Maybe if i put it here, maybe if i put it out on the wave of electricity that spans the world and statics out into the universe i'll get an answer. I'll doze later today and get a message from my mom, dad, or sister about how their deaths arent too great to process, how better things are coming or that i can still do whatever it is i want. Or maybe there will be nothing. I dont know what would be worse.