Empathic Forecast

Empathic Forecast

How are you able to detect the cloudy thoughts brewing away inside the roof of my skull?

You look over at me, as I try my best to hold it all in, the storm of my emotions shifting in the ever changing ether, peering straight through my mask, and wanting me to unsheath the tiny trinkles of rain until I’ve flooded you with all of my internal burdens; Strange interest in how I am feeling.

I lack the understanding of why you even care if I need an umbrella, let alone yours.

And yet here you are, extending a hand to me, a little-smoky-callused hand that I can not take, for I am a masochist who likes to suffer alone in the hurricane that thrashs through me; Stubbornness at its finest.

My shell is prickly and avoidant, locking me in tightly, keeping everyone out and at an invisible distance, for she can not seem to do it, just unlock this heavy door she's bolted herself behind, let in the people who seem to care, it just doesn't seem quite right, allowing guests into her private quarters; Keeping the storm on her side, all to herself.

“You seem off.”

I am, off in my head, dancing to songs, thinking of the things I’d like to create, making movie references only my family knows, replaying the ever insulting jokey words that have disrupted the version of me that you see, the side of me that has to recover in the back in silence, while also remaining present in the public, she gets wounded easily by the insulting assumptions blown her way.

“Just tired.”

Tired of this weather.

It's a mystery to me how you seem to pick up on it so quickly, my mood disturbance, my sudden hyper focus on tedious mundane tasks must give it away, who stares so distantly at a dirty tray anyway?

Why do you even want to know, Weather Boy?

- Autumn(Me)

I want to start posting my art doodles and nonsense on here, sooooooo

I Present My Doodle, Chrysoprase

💕😩💕😩💕😩💕

As Well As My Other Doodle, Burning Pile

No, God No

Perfectly written words to represent how she feels gone, erased, typed out raw thoughts Thanos snapped away in a blink, as if they were never real.

A new kind of pain washes over her, frustrated thumbs poking down something different because of one little slip of a button; Forever dead and gone are the thoughts she originally desired to share.

Once wearing the mask of a depressed jester, now adorning the face of a pissed off poet, upset over the unsaved thoughts plucked from a heartfelt brain of misery, planting seeds of unsavory anger into the gardens of the Internet instead; Tears of aggravation.

She's a goddamn fool for wanting to let her emotions naturally guide the flow of her work, a fucking moron whose illustrations and reflections have been refreshed off her screen, vanishing into the void of forgotten blurs.

"I can't believe you've done this."

Truly, she can not.

Sighing in disbelief over a fear, something she thought was silly to be afraid of happening, stupidly lucky once, her ass was saved one time and she mistakingly took it for granted instead of as a warning of what would come to never be if she was not careful; A lesson through accidents.

Forever no more, her unfinished poem of truthful thoughts that were stripped away of the meat that gave it life, shall now lay rest in the graveyard of Drafts, never to be touched again; Endlessly mourned bones of what could have been.

Another tack to add onto her list of regrets, never forgetting to kick herself down over this large L she never meant to bite into; Another thought to keep her awake at night.

She loved you which is why she is so upset over your disappearence, you were beautiful and meant the world to her, in her teary eyes you had a bright future ahead of you; Suddenly, no one.

I will never be able to re-create nor replicate the masterpiece that was you, my love.

- Autumn(Me)

Progress

As I scroll through my gallery, it finally shifts into focus just how far I've come with the love for my physical features; Admiration for one's own exterior.

When I was younger I hated the way I appeared in the mirror, my eyes and nose scrunched up at the hideous creature that frowned back at me, she made me want to vomit all over the sink, whenever we lock eyes now, I want her by my side, for she is stunning, I am mesmerized by myself; Growth.

Everything about me was a flaw, a mistake I did my best to cover up and hide, it felt safe and comfortable to be wrapped up in layers; Years of oversized-sweat-soaked hoodies.

I used to burn up underneath the thick fabric, afraid everyone would see the hairy-manly-wolf arms protecting my skin, anytime I rolled up my sleeves to cool off my unshaven limbs, someone would stare or state the obvious to me; Fear over natural human features.

With jealous rage, I watched as every other person paraded about in beautiful clothes, materials that wonderfully showed off the eye catching features I neither had or felt I carried, a watery fire bursting when hearing them get called pretty or asked out; Wanting to wear their irresistible shoes over my own, to feel attractive by the public.

Tears of aggravation pouring down, as everyone I used to want made me feel ugly for looking the way I do, I felt foolish in my large cloak of safety for even thinking they would want this, an oily beast who offered nothing for them to gawk at; A young fool liking the wrong people.

As I sit and analyze my journey out of the security cocoon that I spun myself into, I am truly proud of the butterfly that emerged from what she thought was her home, she is so lucky those pest she used to desire did not see her true worth tucked away behind what they viewed as merily muck.

Although she slouches, she stands as tall as her little legs allow, finally smiling in pictures, enjoying the photoshoots she spends hours taking, giggling and blushing over herself for once, gawking over the outfits she never would have worn trapped in her overheated blankets of protection; Crushing on me.

I have tossed out the piles of meekness that clogged up my self image, making room for vanity to decorate the space, she carries an ego with appreciation for every part of me, even though my huge-ass-four-finger-length forehead has grown a bit, it feels rather nice to have pride to be me, which is quite new; Cheering for team us, Me-Myself-& the one and only...I.

Thank you to the ones who saw the enchanting jester nervously hiding behind the curtains, afraid to go out on stage and be poorly judged by the audience surrounding her; Gifting her with inspiration.

She is more than grateful that her favorite supporters encouraged her to step out of her opaque shell, freeing herself of the gown of shame that she used to cling on for shelter, exposing a gorgeous goddess who looks enchanting yet quite silly, for she proudly gazes upon the crowd dawning her favorite facial expression; A dumbass whose face goofily contorts, her thin eyebrows smashing together, as she either purses her lips out or sucks them in pridefully with confidence over her unique exterior.

"I love you, you're total babe inside and out, always coming up with the oddest jokes that make me crack a smile even if it does not land with your crowd a hundred percent of the time, you're my favorite comedian and artist." - Me to Me.

- Autumn(Me)

Distant Shift On Jupiter

For the first time in years, you have shut me out of whatever you're doing in life, to say a pit did not drop heavily in my stomach would be a lie; Because.

I understand we are two separate beings, living our own lives, following different journies through an existence we cry over from time to time, but usually you are the most open person I know; Never hiding yourself away in a beaten box, tucked behind the dust of an attic.

Is it me?

Have we grown apart?

I'm overreacting, I know, but...this is so unlike you, I am baffled, completely taken back by your strange new silence.

Am I stupid to be hurt by such a small lack of information from you?

Yes...but I am.

You always tell me about your fear of us separating, of me departing from our 8-9 years of companionship, but dearest friend, it is I who is the most frightened; Afraid you'll leave.

One day you'll see me for the lazy-ugly-twisted asshole I am, tired of how I keep everything locked tightly in, angry over everything I did when we were younger; My greatest fear.

So silly, these pits I feel hollowing inside of my bones.

They keep appearing, each one getting harder to walk off; Offended by life.

I'm sorry; Not an apology, just a sorry excuse for a friend(Me).

It's amazing, your independence is stunning, you glow brighter everyday, you do not need me, I am but a heavy chain, weighing you down, far from reach of the magnetic fruits of life; Selfishly holding on, keeping you to myself.

Release the bugs you catch, they are living just as you, each a vibrant shade of stories; No you are not a bug, but a wonderful person in my life.

This is not me passing you the salt, this is me sharing the seasoning leaking through my eye sockets, the dumb feelings I do not share; Pathetically childish.

You don't have to tell me, you are allowed to keep things to yourself, just as I, I'm just a giant nose who wants to sniff around whatever you do not wish for me to smell; Curiosity inhaling it's way through private cords.

- Autumn(Me)

A Game Of Eye Contact

Nervously, her eyes avert from looking your way, only gifted a sliver of a glimpse as you turn away from her; Liking what I don't see.

She is terrified of starting the game, locking eyes with a beautiful stranger, what happens when you win?

Who is the prize?

A rush of red hot panic blares through her eagerly frantic system as she tries to calculate every possible repercussion; Overthinking, her best attribute.

Her gears creak and screech, overrun and burnt, as her imagination swims in a sweaty pool of fictional scenarios; Chaotically disorganized, the awkward-shy-ambiverted Daydreamer drifts.

Confused by the back and forth notes passed between her plump form and jittery spirit, she displays the oddest cues and signs, the air between the two players becoming unreadable; Mixed Messages.

Are they even playing?

Is she in or out?

(Internal Questions and Fears).

Her mind is unable to apply it's make-up, where is it to even begin, what will it wear?

As tempted as she may be by the gentle Pink Boy of Flowers, Hesitancy is quick to stop the weird Turquoise Beast from running along to play in the field of soft spoken lilies; Considering the odds from every single angle, a few more times.

The hopeless romantic fidgets above the buttons, timid-antsy-inexperienced fingers dance along the colorful knobs, her quarter moist and warm as it rests in her anxious little palms, brown marbles rake over the flashing arcade machine screen; "Push start to begin."

- Autumn(Me)