"I'll meet you where the moonlight falls, I'll meet you where the statues stand, I'll meet you beneath the falling walls, We await the gods to show their hand - Amongst the ruins."

Ne invoces expellere non possis

Celestial Season- Vienna

The Song of the Hunt

For rpg-gamers The Witcher might be familiar already. I've just poked around the second game, poked to the end, but it's a bit shameful to admit that's how I started the game-series: from the second game. That's why I feel that I am not the best one to give it a review of any kind. Still, I hope one day I'll get to the third and final part. And of course I should really play the first part as well. After all, it is said that it's really good.

And perhaps one day I could read the books these games are based on.

*

Wolves asleep amidts the trees 

Bats all aswayin' in the breeze

But one soul lies anxious wide awake

Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths

Birds are silent for the night

Cows turned in as daylight dies

But one soul lies anxious wide awake

For the Witcher, brave and bold

Paid in coin of gold

He’ll chop and slice you

Cut and dice you

Eat. You. Up. Whole.

Eat. You. Whole.

"Incurable lover of the grotesque”

"Drawing is the honesty of the art. There is no possibility of cheating. It is either good or bad." - Salvador Dali

*

I'm still wanting to learn tattooing, but since my energy has dropped very low, my practicing has come to a halt. I copied several pictures with all kinds of subjects and coloured them with colour pencils, and even tried out the fake-leather and few fruits, but now I am finding difficulties to take care of myself and my all-day chores. I was given a bigger dosage for my medication, and there's a plan to change the medication if nothing improves, so I am waiting to get my energy back one way or another.

Here's few drawings I made from pictures I found. There's
some differences with the original pictures. There's bound to be some differences since the artist is different and has a different style. Also the more details some pictures have the more difficult it becomes to copy, and at that time I just improvise. Not all leafs or branches need to be exactly at the same spots and sometimes you think that the picture looks better without something or add something to it, to make it look better for your needs. I do have ideas of my own, of course, you might have seen the ink-drawings and paintings all around this blog.



Also I did use photographs besides drawings and paintings as models for these images. A crucial part of portraying people and animals is using photographs as models. It's not enough to just copy them, you need to be able to draw people just by looking at them, to know how to draw their anatomy. Copying without really seeing and understanding how for example arms are attached to the torso or not measuring the limbs to fit to their natural places creates horrid looking mistakes.





As you can see, these pictures were photographed, not scanned, so the quality looks a bit blurry. I am the most laziest photographer after all. No good light at these pictures. And scanning seemed to take too much effort. Also the size of each drawing is very small. In the pictures below, the paper size is A3.

After I get my energy back, and I can continue practicing, I'll make more pictures that are more my own making. This was a good way to get to know the different styles and how to make them and colour them. If this becomes something more, I would want to be able to do as much of different styles as possible. There are some styles I do not like as much, and feel reluctant to even try, but still I want to learn as much as possible. I really hope this works out somehow. I don't have many options left.

This Haunting feeling of The End.

(Copyrights mine)

I've been haunted by this peculiar feeling of ending. I don't know if it is simply my imagination or what, but for at least a year now it has been moving around in my head. It feels like my life is coming to an end, or maybe it is the world or humanity that's ending. Or it might be just all in my head. But these odd sensations come and go or float around behind my eyes, and I keep waving them away like pesky flies, but they keep coming back.

*

When I read and hear about people's happiness, it makes me want to hurl. I remember happiness, I do. And the logical side is glad about other's happiness, but one thing that has been growing, raising and descending is hate. Hate towards me and everyone and no one. It's not surprising that I am still this sloppy mess of a person with these messy feelings and sensations that make sense in a mad world. A hacked up sack of meat, pretending to be alive, that's what I am. Different sensations keep haunting me and I try to remember to write them down. Perhaps I will understand it all someday. Perhaps I will heal, forgot and cannot understand a word I have written.

"The Sweetness was turned to Adamantine, Heartless cruelty, and the Purity to Voluptuous Wantonness."

More diy. Now that for the time being I am feeling a tad more energetic.

Unfortunately I cannot remember where I found this picture. Perhaps from Propnomicon-blog. That blog is one of my favourites.

I am putting together a vampire slayer-kit. Unfortunately I found my wooden box to be a bit too small for it (so there's no photos), so I need to keep looking for a larger yet cheap wooden box.. which is as easy as finding a leprechaun. I found an old bible for a few cents and a cylinder shaped wood from all the woodblocks I've collected, and I sharpened it into a stake. I have a crucifix from a flea market, but I rather keep it on my wall. But for religious items I recommend religious flea-markets - if your country has one. Those types of flea markets are usually cheaper than the average ones and there's a lot of crosses and bibles.

But the whole slayer-kit project seems to be a long road of collecting different things from wherever I happen to find them. Pretty much like every project I have. I collect things and then figure out how to use them. Small glass-bottles filled with - for example - tea-leaves. Perhaps a bag made from fabric filled with garlic or some other. And I've seen steampunk-pistols and shotguns made from water-guns, or perhaps an antique-looking prop-gun from some masquerade-shop would be a good addition to the kit. Since a larger slayer-kit looks good with some firepower and - or with some wicked blades and axes.

Step one, do it yourself. Step two, I don't know. Something exciting happens. Step three, profit.

*

Here's a bit more DIY-projects.


Some of the things in different websites about "diy" are projects harder to make when you live in a country that's too young to have a lot of old objects in every flea-market. There's also no cheap stores that sell feathers, jars, paints, pins and every kind of thing you might have seen someone mentioning in instructions. Every last piece from rusty nails to cardboard is expensive - used or new.

Here's some pictures of projects I want to try to make as soon as I can. I can't remember where I got these pictures, so I'm hoping no one takes offence for me adding these here:

I want to try making something like this, but since I don't have deer horns(?) just laying around, I want to try horn-shaped wood/branches, and paint them black or dark blackish brown.

Perhaps a doll's head would be a good substitute for this - whatever the material is? Wood or plastic perhaps? There's also Styrofoam-heads on Ebay. They are cheap but not sure how practical in use.

When you have limited space, either a fake or a real one would be interesting. A fake one is perhaps a bit harder to make, since I found no instructions on how to create fake-cabinet drawers.

A real one might be easier, since if you have a cabinet of any kind, all you need is more drawers. Perhaps it's not easy to find the smallest ones, but for example any old cabinets or work-desks drawers might do the trick.

And these things seem easy enough to make:

All you need is some wood-blanks and jars. Also chains and a wall-hook. Not difficult things to obtain.

It looks like this one doesn't have real tree branches, but I would like to try out real branches. It's quicker, cheaper and easier. Although burning real candles instead of led-candles is a bit risky, and I cannot recommend it.

I have the wood-boards, but no crowbar. It's a project I'm working on. I had to get really creative for living in a rented apartment. A house of my own is a wish, that might never come to be reality, unless I am able to re-educate myself or get a second job or something. So I use my energy by creating things that I can just as easily remove if I ever have to move out of my apartment.

I almost bought a cool looking oil-barrel with rings around it, so I could paint it to look like a real wood-barrel, but I didn't dare to spend more money at the time. Real barrels are really amazing, but also expensive. Usually over ten times more expensive than an average plastic-barrels.

And here's the last one of the easiest to make diy I added here. Plastic instects painted and hanged on a frame. Easy as pie.

"Untouched by the sunlight, Or the moonlight, I stand like a statue, As the stars bring their light"

*

Do it yourself. DIY. A poor man's choice. An opportunity for artistic endeavor.

I have apartment full of different kinds of wood to work on and some metal-objects. At times I get an idea but mostly I look for ideas and inspirations. With zero-budget or otherwise very low starting points.

I think I might have written about this before, but when you don't have any money to spend, you can always make something from flour, baking dough, to be exact.

Couple of years back I made few baking dough-bones and bird-skull-look-a-likes for Halloween. Perhaps a person with patience and a touch for details could make better looking skulls, I just peeked at a picture and molded them to look something like that.

(About year old pictures)

Although these pictures and their use belongs solely to me, if you, my dear reader, get any kind of ideas and inspiration from these, you may of course use the ideas - but not the pictures.

Actual modelling clay or even play-dough can allow you to make a really fine, detailed and realistic work, but like I said, when you don't have money for it, and if you want decorations for a party or something to put into your jars of curiosities you can make these cheap. Also you can make small holes into the still-wet pastry and after its dry, you can put wire through and hang them on a chandelier. All you need is some fine-grained flour, water and salt. Salt is the key-element. Without it you end up with a paste that starts to stink and rot. Unfortunately I made that mistake with a mummified-hand I made. So you don't need any actual instructions, you just add equal measures of flour and water, but add more flour to keep it dry enough to handle. Also some use ovens to warm and harden the figurines, I just put flour over a newspaper and left it to dry for few days. I'm not sure if the shape changes in the oven.

Anyway, that one is a bit difficult thing to make, but like I said, if you don't have money nor imagination to try something else, it is an option.

Another idea, that I haven't yet tried, is to carve bones and skulls out of wood from forests. I have a little experience on carving wood, but in theory it sounds like an easy enough option. Just gather up some branches and whatnot and start carving. But the tree needs to be thick enough and not rotten or old. Also it needs to be completely dry.

One interesting idea I got from several different websites, that include making statues and other decorations from dolls and doll-heads. One thing I accidentally stumbled on was a practice-dollhead, for barbers and make-up artists. The difference from kids dolls is the size of the thing:

In this picture the practice-doll was painted from its natural human-like skin-colors to white. Not the most delicate colouring technique I used there, but any other person could try spray-painting to get the best, cleanest result. I used what I had. Equally I had to get creative with the hair the doll had. I cut it off the best I could, but with closer look you can see small pieces of hair sticking out. Using any razors or carpet-knifes would cause scratches on the skins surface, and they didn't get all the hair out.

Also the doll had an average head but I got an idea to make a head with its top cut off, to reveal its "brain". It kind of reminds me of one of those phrenology-heads.

There's also couple of books I tried to transform into something else, but I'm not all that happy with the results. Cardboard, and pins besides paints and hot glue were used with these.

And there's another picture I have once shared. But I got an idea, that I haven't yet tried out. Besides making octopus-figures on bottles, all other options are equally possible, but what I haven't tried, which might work even better as a 3-dimensional decoration is an actual plastic toy-octopus. Unfortunately they are hard to find and the ones I found from Ebay are surprisingly expensive for average toys. So this plan is currently on waiting-mode. But when I find a toy to hot glue on a bottle, I would probably paint it at first. I don't know how this idea might work, but hopefully I get a chance to try.

*

Cabinets of curiosities are fun things to have, and I have something like it. It goes through transforms every now and then, but currently it looks like this:

There was no space to get the whole cabinet into one picture, but as you can see, it has all kinds of jars and bottles - from grocery stores, flea-markets and alcohol-stores. Printed labels (which I need more and different kinds) and more things from flea-markets, like the candle-holders. Only the skull-replicas are from Ebay. The human-skull one was the most expensive one, and it is a real treasure.

I'll add ore pictures later, like the mummified hand and a bit better looking diy-books.

I call upon thee Destruction and Death

(Copyrights belong to me)

Darkness, 1816, Byron

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars 

Did wander darkling in the eternal space, 

Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth 

Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; 

Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day, 

And men forgot their passions in the dread 

Of this their desolation; and all hearts 

Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light: 

And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones, 

The palaces of crowned kings--the huts, 

The habitations of all things which dwell, 

Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd, 

And men were gather'd round their blazing homes 

To look once more into each other's face; 

Happy were those who dwelt within the eye 

Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch: 

A fearful hope was all the world contain'd; 

Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour 

They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks 

Extinguish'd with a crash--and all was black. 

The brows of men by the despairing light 

Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits 

The flashes fell upon them; some lay down 

And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest 

Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd; 

And others hurried to and fro, and fed 

Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up 

With mad disquietude on the dull sky, 

The pall of a past world; and then again 

With curses cast them down upon the dust, 

And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd 

And, terrified, did flutter on the ground, 

And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes 

Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd 

And twin'd themselves among the multitude, 

Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food. 

And War, which for a moment was no more, 

Did glut himself again: a meal was bought 

With blood, and each sate sullenly apart 

Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left; 

All earth was but one thought--and that was death 

Immediate and inglorious; and the pang 

Of famine fed upon all entrails--men 

Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh; 

The meagre by the meagre were devour'd, 

Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one, 

And he was faithful to a corse, and kept 

The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay, 

Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead 

Lur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food, 

But with a piteous and perpetual moan, 

And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand 

Which answer'd not with a caress--he died. 

The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two 

Of an enormous city did survive, 

And they were enemies: they met beside 

The dying embers of an altar-place 

Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things 

For an unholy usage; they rak'd up, 

And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands 

The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath 

Blew for a little life, and made a flame 

Which was a mockery; then they lifted up 

Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld 

Each other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died-- 

Even of their mutual hideousness they died, 

Unknowing who he was upon whose brow 

Famine had written Fiend. The world was void, 

The populous and the powerful was a lump, 

Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless-- 

A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay. 

The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still, 

And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths; 

Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea, 

And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd 

They slept on the abyss without a surge-- 

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, 

The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before; 

The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, 

And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need 

Of aid from them--She was the Universe.

"Darkling I listen; and, for many a time, I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath"

Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,

And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?

The transient pleasures as a vision seem,

And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.

How strange it is that man on earth should roam,

And lead a life of woe, but not forsake

His rugged path; nor dare he view alone

His future doom which is but to awake. 

John Keats

*

More pills to be consumed, yet this weariness won't leave me. Still I am glad the melancholy doesn't occupy all my days, but the days, the months, the years are in a one big blurry pile on top of each other. I hope the new dosage will give me few days of clarity.

Perhaps next time I will have the energy to write about diy-projects, in other words "do it yourself"-projects. unfortunately I've lost the usb-cable of my camera, but I'll see what I can do without it.

"Outside The circus gathering - Moved silently along the rainswept boulevard. The procession moved on - the shouting is over - The fabulous freaks are leaving town. They are driven by a strange desire - Unseen by the human eye. The carnival is over."

Feeling alright still. Hopefully this sticks this time around.

Unfortunately I'm still feeling rather inefficient with doing my chores and duties.

I should be reading for the entrance exams, and the reading-material has already been announced and here I am, just sitting. I don't know where I can conjure up the energy to study.

And my tattoo-practicing is so slow. Even if my head is feeling alright, I wish I could find my energy and motivation. It doesn't matter what time of day it is or how well I've slept, I can't seem to get anything done. All my energy goes into working my lousy day-job. If I can't find the energy to even cook or clean, how the hell am I supposed to study anything.

It boggles the mind.

"Fiery the angels rose, and as they rose deep thunder roll'd. Around their shores: indignant burning with the fires of Orc."

Blade Runner

*

There's not much to write about, and I don't feel like writing. I also don't have any pictures to share, so I'll stay quiet for now.

Time is a misty vortex

I haven't been thinking about the biological father- matter for weeks. I've been more concentrated on surviving from day to day, especially since my mood seems to go from one extreme to another in a steady rhythm. I don't really care who's my father, since the parents I have now are no good, and I don't need any more of the same in my life. Perhaps if I ever feel better enough I might want to get to know my biological father - if that is actually true - but as long as I can't get my head to work, it might not be a good idea to drag anyone else into this mess. I find barely any strength to keep contact with my siblings and friends. But I might change my mind. After all nothing seems to change in my mental-state it might be just the same to do things rather than wait for years or a lifetime for me to get better. I truly doubt I will ever get better. I am already accustomed to the mess inside my head that I am starting to doubt my hazy memories of normality. Was it ever true or all a figment of my imagination. I could swear I was once normal, at least to a degree, but now it is nothing but chaos.

I'm sick and tired with my head. Off with my head, I'd say.

"Into the hole again, we hurried along our way, into a once-glorious garden now steeped in dark decay."

“I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!”

- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll.

*

When I heard the news, I was in a shock and filled with disbelief - I still am. It's not a bad news, it doesn't make me feel anything particular, but I felt like I was suddenly whisked away from the familiar reality and dropped into a hole that leads to Wonderland. Equally bizarre and sudden it was.

For the man who raised me is not - claimed by my untrustworthy mother - my biological father. After almost a 30 years of living I find about it now. So suddenly, without any kind of hints. The mental-image of dropping into a rabbits hole and falling through to another kind of world seems accurate. Thus the pictures, although some of their dark nature doesn't cascade my feelings, but when you say "Alice", I see the bony-grin of Dark Horses "Alice"-game series Cheshire cat.

This shocking bit of news doesn't make me sad. It could liberate me from the painful notion of never being able to get any kind of love nor approval from my father, so I could be free from that mess in my head. No pressure, no shame and no sorrows.

I haven't yet gotten any confirmation from someone else, so in the most extreme case-scenario I might have to cut my ties with both of my parents, unless 'tis is true and they both are willing to speak it truthfully. Otherwise, if there's any claims by either one that the other one is lying, I think I have had enough. But it will be seen soon enough, how they want to handle this.

My mother handled it bad enough already, for she told about that secret to almost everyone else before she told me. My oldest brother knew about it two years ago and my younger siblings had to keep quiet about for a year, until they were forceful enough to make our mother tell the truth to me. At first I was willing to accept that it was handled poorly, slipped (most likely not) accidentally in a conversation but after I found out that my older brother knew about it even sooner, I started to think, why do I even bother socializing with the people who are responsible for the bad state of my mental health. I am truly starting to doubt if severing all ties might be the answer to getting better. I have been too polite and too kind-hearted to continue this charade for as long as I have. I will observe what my parents do. And if there's even a hint of manipulation or lies, I would be more than happy to leave them. After all I have been without their support or help for almost all my life, and even if I would need support or help in the future, I know they would never give either of those things. All they can do is spread poison all around them, and then try to make me feel guilty for disliking them.

Alice: "Wonderland's become quite strange. How is one to find her way?"

Cheshire Cat: "As knowing where you're going is preferable to being lost, ask. Rabbit knows a thing or two, and I, myself, don't need a weathervane to tell which way the wind blows. Let your need guide your behaviour; suppress your instinct to lead; pursue Rabbit."

*

The Daylight washes away the Filth over the Sky - and the Ravens cry in the distance.

 (Copyrights belong to me)

The reality slips into dream, and the dreams slip into reality. The world becomes unreal drop by drop and then it pulls back and everything is solid again. 

A ghost, a piece of paper, painted wall and my hand can't get through. It is a stage. Unreal. All the actors are unreal and I am the only audience.

(Copyrights belong to me)

The therapist said something that surprised me, that depressed often feel like they are living inside a bubble. I didn't know others felt the same. I have often imagined it to be a glass-box rather than a bubble. The first time I felt that way was in my early teens. Of course it is not a constant feeling. It comes and goes. Now a days I have new kinds of feelings about everything, which isn't an improvement.

 (Copyrights belong to me)

Besides struggling with my head and the reality I've been drawing tattoo-pictures. It's a subject I don't want to write about much, until I am ready to share more. Anxieties make the progress slower, so writing about small steps forward is a waste of time. I started by getting acquainted with the machine, and now I am warming up and practicing the style of drawing you need to use to make tattoos. Next step would be practicing with the machine, but as I said, I am moving very slowly, as much as the anxieties let me. Too much, too soon makes me distressed. I don't know why. I guess I feel a pressure to make something of myself. Everyone is making something of themselves. All my plans and dreams have scattered and slipped away, and now I am trying to grasp at anything to give my life a meaning. Without a meaning life is more difficult to bare.

                                                                                                (Copyrights belong to me)

"O Falon'Din Lethanavir -- Friend to the Dead, Guide my feet, calm my soul, lead me to my rest."

My fiercest fantasy-genre obsession started and ended in my early teens, but what hasn't - and won't ever - change, is my love (and obsession) for a great story and great characters. I cannot even underline those two things enough. Whether in games, books, movies or TV-shows, if your story and characters are not "whole", entwined with each other seamlessly, you will lack the most important part of any story: feeling. If I feel for the story, for the characters, then it is love. Unfortunately that is a rare thing. Most seem to want touch and look at the surface of things - which usually makes me bored or wanting for more.

It's simply not enough to force the ingredients together, adding only what you think people might want to see. I want more than pretty trees and real-enough rain. Especially the difficult, deep and complicated relations with different kinds of people is something that is sadly underrated quality when it should be perhaps the most important key-element of a great story.

One thing hasn't changed though: I love slaying dragons. It's just fucking awesome.

"Though Darkness closes, I am shielded by Flame."

There's a thousand things to write down, and yet the thoughts elude me when I sit down to lead them here - into more coherent form than rising and descending wave of thoughts.

This wave of thoughts and moods are what have made me think about bipolar-disorder, and if I might have the symptoms. It might be just coincidence or my imagination, but it does seem that I can't beat my depression. I won't go to many details about it, but there has been some "up's" beside the "downs". And there has been few incidents that I haven't paid much attention to. It's usually said, that you can recover from depression in about half a year, but I have been like this for two years already. Maybe longer than that. It's been two years since I went to the doctor asking for help with my exhaustion et cetera.

My therapist called the depression as a helper - that reveals the things you need to correct and heal. Interesting thought, but for me this has been more like a demonic possession.

There was only Chaos, Corruption and Dead Whispers. For I have seen the Throne of the Gods, and it was Empty.

(I haven't watched any series at late, but I do wait for the 3. season of The Hannibal-series.)

It is anger that keeps me warm when outside the frost clings to the trees. I don't know what the anger is about or to who it is toward to, but I can feel it bubbling inside me. It has suffocated the previous anxieties and gloominess, but who knows for how long this time.

I'd rather be angry at life than depressed. At least when you're angry, you feel a bit more like a living person instead of a ghost.

I do fear that this uplift mood might turn against me by forming into mania. But I get scared at times anyway, the trick is not to think about all the "what if's".

Listen to this poor Demon

He trembles in the bitter wind

Until it's time for us to speak

Whilst others here are sleeping sound

I'll slip away by floorboard creak

Upon the hill he'll hear my secrets

Shock the colours to bleach inside

Whilst others there are sleeping sound

Just we two will confide

Listen to his body moan

Make a wish and send us home

To spin the gold and silver stitches

We can turn his rags to riches

With frosty Jack on fingernail

Thro' shoe black smile he'll tell-a-tale

Come whisper thro' your lips of straw

A moment torn forever more

Listen to his body groan

Make a wish and send us home

To spin the gold and silver stitches

We can turn his rags to riches

My so-called friends say you're not alive

I'll bake their bones for telling lies

Then pull the pastry from the pie

And pour the gravy in their eye

Listen to his body moan

Make a wish and send us home

To spin the gold and silver stitches

We can turn his rags to riches

Homo homini lupus est

(Copyrights are mine)

*

Shortly, since I don't feel like writing: money-troubles, medication working, but sleep-rhythm has gone awry. Ravens follow me everywhere, which is like a sign. At least it's getting a tad ridiculous.

I explored and adventured Thedas in Dragon Age: Inquisition. I won't write a review, since I dislike reviews and it takes a bit more time to write whatever I might want to write about it. Just saying that it was pretty much what I expected from Bioware. Amazing sequel. How it fares on its own, is controversial, I'm sure, but with the previous parts combined make it amazing. Totally worth it.

And I'm starting slowly planning my next step in the actual, real life. I bought supplies to start learning how to tattoo. It's the one road I thought, I would never follow, but I don't have a lot of options. Even if it wouldn't work out, I have to try.