crying because of your hair

humbled to be tagged for the meet the artist meme! i don’t really draw but this was so fun, thank you! (*´♡`*) tagging @celaedon @lattekitten @mooncrystl @princesskujo  @koitoshi @gwenstacy @filipinope @xiajiao @legendofotaku @mr-smith-i-need-you

Kanda: Timcampy…what in the blue fuck? why are you crying? are you okay?

Timcampy: -silent-

Timcampy: -internally- Am I Okay? no I’m not you son of a stupid piece of fuck. My two recent masters are now stuck in one body and one of them is planning some weird shit and you asked me which one do I want to serve anymore without even considering how fucked up is the situations right now I mean look at what happened cross is dead and allen is being fucking chased by the black order because of nea and you know what I do? I just fucking sit here and record everything because that’s what I’m made for okay maybe I didn’t want to be made for this maybe I want to go to starbucks and live here or become a duck I know that sounds weird but point is no you don’t ask why am I crying because of all of that bullcrap happening I hope you get your hair pulled out by an akuma you bloody twat.

You Don’t Understand

You don’t understand. You don’t understand crying when you wash your hair because your scalp hurts so bad. You don’t understand barely being able to shave your legs because it hurts your hands so much. You don’t understand genuinely needing to nap after showering. You don’t understand pulling out chunks of hair after showering. No, it’s more like the hair falling out not pulling it out. It happens without any help from you. You don’t understand what the rest of my life is like if that’s how hard it is just to simply shower. You don’t understand being disabled at 23. You don’t understand. You don’t understand watching your mom cry at your doctor’s appointments. You don’t understand hearing her tell the doctor that she honestly doesn’t know how much longer you’re going to be alive because of the combined pain, stress, medications, and lack of answers and help. That she doesn’t think your body can handle it anymore. You don’t understand hearing her tell the doctor that when you sleep in late she’s scared to check on you because she can’t be sure that you’re alive still. You don’t understand being half asleep on the couch and hearing your mom ask your dad to make sure that you’re still breathing. You don’t understand watching everyone around you begin their lives while you’re fighting to survive. You don’t get it. You don’t understand. But I can’t blame you for not understanding, at least these bigger, more general effects of this life. But I think you can imagine the littler things, like how hard it is to shower, to walk, to pump gas, to stand for more than 30 minutes, to breathe after walking across campus, to button up a shirt, to put on a bracelet, to write a long post like this. Look at how quickly those little things add up. Those are the little things that make up the most basic kind of a life. I think if you took the time you could imagine how hard just one of those little things would be. But you can’t imagine all of it combined, all of it all the time. You don’t understand. So please stop passing judgment, and please stop taking things for granted.