my brain daily
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I feel like shit, that’s why I’m learning to draw

This morning I’m once again in the grips of insomnia. It started as usual, waking up without feeling rested. I know that my alarm is hours from going off but I’m already awake. I look my phone’s display and there it is staring me in the face: 3:08 am. My stomach and face sink, I know it’s going to be another one of those days. There’s the welling of tears that comes to my eyes and a long drawn out sigh. There’s a feeling of butterflies and nausea in my stomach. It kind of feels like ants crawling around on my torso, but I can’t do anything about it. After a couple of minutes I recognize the all to familiar feeling: self-hatred.

Working for others makes me feel like shit

How I feel when I rent myself(being employed)

The self-hatred comes from the coercion of my being. It comes from experiecning the double standard and lies of the working world. Our dreams and potentials are reduced down for the lowest possible wage. I feel robbed of my dignity when I rent my precious time. I feel rage, knowing  creative work and intellecutal exploration that I lose put on when renting myself. Sitting around waiting for calls, that are then timed and recorded. I am in the very situation that  had caused my existential dread during my twenties. Being turned into a commodity; again.

It is days like this that the Afropessimism mindset flares up. My  inner self-is screaming in my ear.

“YOU”RE STILL THEIR FUCKING SLAVE!”

“YOU’RE WASTING YOUR LIFE HERE!!!!!!!!”

“I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO SERVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“YOU HATE IT HERE!”

“WHY THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO TALK TO THESE PEOPLE!?!?!?”

“YOU”LL NEVER BE FREE!”

“JUST DIE ALREADY SO ANOTHER COG CAN TAKE YOUR PLACE”.

“YOU’LL END UP BROKEN JUST LIKE THE REST!”

I find these thought intensify the closer it gets to my starting shift. And it becomes more persistent as the day goes through. I have come to accept that being employed for anybody doesn’t work for me. Yet at the same time, it’s the only avenue I have for income right now. This realization makes me feel even more helpless.

Since I’ve started back working, I’ve never been able to clear more than two grand a month. Even living at home with my parents, it will never be enough. How fucked up is it that I was more financially and mentally stable being unemployed?. I know each and everyday that when I rent my time, I’m killing myself slowly but surely. If not a physical death, from sitting for 8 hours a day in front of a screen;  a psychological one knowing that your advncement is limited by what other people think of you’re supposed to be, which is beneath themselves.

 

It is when I rent myself I feel like dying the most. So instead of grieving my commodification again, I tried to paint and draw.

If existential dread then create something

After about thirty minutes or so of these thoughts, I fold up my sleeping gear, turn on my computer and prepare to stream on picarto.tv. When I have these thoughts, I have to find someway to alleviate these feelings.In this post, I stated that I use art to try and navigate uncertainty in the world. Now is probably a good time to put that into practice.

Funnily enough, the only time I don’t feel like shit is when I’m not around people. Made a post on newgrounds and facebook about my insomnia stream. That was a way of me crying out for help. I streamed for about an hour going back and forth between the 25 tire challange and practicing from ctrl+paint. One person watched my stream, but that was more than enough to not feel so alone.

I had only every painted digitally about three of four times on my own before. For some reason, I’m afraid of being colourful. I think it’s because the society we live in; when someone like me expresses joy it makes them a target for harrasment. Fortunatley, not being out in public and having an online community helps. When I had the stylus or pen in my hand, I find the will to carry on and be in the moment.

Making art, no matter how bad, is the only time I can every truly be in the moment. In fact doing anything creative, on my own time is the freedom I truly seek. I want this feeling as much as possible and that’s why I’m trying to grow my art skills and audience. While these two goals are quite difficult, I need to take that risk more frequently. I’m tired of being socially dead.

Hell creating in general makes me happy. Time flies when I try to create as evidence of my alarm going off. Since I’ve been awake two hours have already passed like nothing. I get a sense of accomplishment that I’ve never been able to feel when being rented. I know that everytime I create, I’m closer to the life I want to be living.

A life free of obligative subjugation. Hopefully that day comes sooner than later.Now as the shift approaches in the coming hours, I must prepare myself for negative feelings that will occupy my thoughts while being rented. I must prepare this false mask to hide the rage and sadness I feel.