So much of my life recently has been revolving around what the fuck art is and why people think of it as art, and how culture, religion, gender, location, sexuality, all of that jazz plays into it. It’s incredibly exhausting to think about, but not because of how heavy the subjects are.

I’m just so tired of people not giving a shit. I am tired of white people saying things like, racism doesn’t exist anymore. Or that young, white males feel slighted since all we’ve focused on is other cultures. Or worse! That making art about racism propagates racism! All the while saying that they fully support the rights of others.

There’s also such a culture of “fine art” and what can qualify to be it. Like comics are a hobby and making art with video games doesn’t qualify. And just such a shitty blend of elitism and egotism that I want to punch myself in the face (so I don’t have to hear this shit anymore).

Everyone seems to demand that everything be original and made by someone’s own hands, while still emulating and copying the “masters” of art, all of which had fucking troops of people at their disposal.

I just hate being in such a toxic environment. I love making art, I love being creative, but even while taking a class meant to question the entire system of art as an institution (be it an art school, a museum, a gallery), everyone seems to wonder why we’re bothering to question it.

tldr; art people make me drink a bottle of wine at 2 in the morning while I contemplate how to ridicule all of them using my final project

June 30 201412·11 am1,143 notes

fallout 3

(Source: faeblade, via nerdsandgamersftw)

June 29 201411·00 pm15,604 notes

Video Game Character Poster - Female Edition

(Male Edition coming soon)

(Source: delsinsfire)

It never ceases to amaze me how much I can hate myself, and how much I can just thoroughly fuck up everything. It’s a horrible talent, but I guess it’s the only thing I’m good at.

I have stayed up until six am almost every night for the last three weeks. Up until this point the energy I’ve been expending has just barely surpassed the energy I’ve garnered from food, sleep, and coffee. But I’m definitely at the precipice of sickness, hanging on by my nails to the world of the living.

And honestly, the only thing getting me through these weeks is the constant support of my best friend. From going on food runs to showing up when I’m just sad, he’s been better to me then I could have expected, especially considering how stressed I’ve been at him. He’s even managed to delve into the realm of being artistic just to help.

I had kind of wanted to just complain about how exhausted I am, but I’m also at the point where thoughts hardly string together so who knows where this could go. Except class. That’s where I’m going. Fuccck bye world.