Just Ignore My Old Drawings Those Are Not Good Compared Something Else I Drew Recently

update: I regret my decisions but not enough to stop reading

I decided to start reading Shakespeare so I would have something else to quote instead of memes

i just realized i’ve been forgetting to post

this is what it’s like to play dungeons and dragons. i have nothing else to say

Hello world! I’m here, I’m queer. 💙💛💖 I decided to make a poem to introduce myself to tumblr. My name is Sinylene (but not irl) and my goal is to make life funner. Don’t judge me; poetry’s hard! I wish i had a business card. That would be easier than this.

I decided to write a poem to vent

I don’t know why/ but for some reason, I/ just started feeling like I want to cry./ I know/ that others say I show/ talent, and I can kinda see it/ just a little bit/ but I can’t seem to show it/ when it matters to me./ Those that I want to see/ my stuff, I can never get confident/ in my supposed talent to/ show them what I made,/ that I worked on for days and days./ I always find something wrong/ or I take way too long!/ I can never show/ what I know/ is at least made with love./ I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong./ I don’t want this to be seen/ to make me/ have an inflated sense of self-esteem,/ I just want some feedback and critique./ I want to make people happy/ but I can’t.

you know you’re tired when you double-misspell your own email to log into tumblr fucking hell

Holy crap. Please explain how you managed to find the exact right words for this. Because I am amazed

The Closet

i’ve never posted my writing anywhere before but this was so personal to me and i haven’t stopped reading it since i wrote it, so now i guess i hand it off to you. i wrote this at a very low point in my life and, while i am certainly doing better now, i still feel the emotions expressed in this piece quite often. being closeted is hard– it hurts. it really hurts. so, here goes! my writing, now yours as well.

March 3, 2019, 1:07am

Prompt: You knock louder and louder on the door, but nobody answers.

Banging. Thudding. Pounding. Kicking. I’m slamming at the door. I’m trapped, I’m claustrophobic, I’m scared; but worst of all– I’m alone. I have been in here for too long and I’m ready to leave. I miss my friends, I miss my family… I miss the truth. I miss the days when I didn’t see the walls, when it was harder to notice the harsh divide. But almost just as scary- if not scarier- as this deafening isolation is the potential of what’s on the other side of the door. What if it’s worse? I can’t know. “If only the door would just open!” I keep saying to myself. But in my heart of hearts I know it’s for naught. Because this is a door I can only open myself. And I imagine what the world on the other side is like. I fantasize about flying through the door in a burst of color and light, finally happy, finally smiling. A real smile. Not the smile blocked by the walls. A smile that says “I’m free! I’m here! I’m out!” But for now I remain incarcerated. It’s hard to justify, though. Feeling imprisoned when you are your own jailor.

i was scrolling through my old posts and i saw this

OH SHIT I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT ABOUT MY STORY