creativity
Aug. 26th, 2025 07:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mshellfirei used to think i was a creative person. the fact is, just like i copy other people's behavior to seem more human and less weird, i copy everything else i find interesting, creative, beautiful. i can't come up with ideas on my own, or if i do, they're somehow a rehash of something that's buried deep in my head and stumbled upon before. it's sad, the fact that i can't even come up with ideas for something without taking from others. i always take. i take, and take, and take, and don't give anything. i'm probably a raging narcissist, or at least i have narcissistic traits just like my mom, because i take and copy and take and copy to try to fill the void i have inside and quell my insecurities. sure, if i were a real narcissist i wouldn't be self-aware, but alas. still a narc. an uncreative one, that is. i wish to change. i wish to be a better person. or just a normal person, that would be nice. i don't think i'm above everyone else, i never thought i was (ok, well, sometimes when i was a teenager i thought i was better than others, i have to admit that, but that can be easily ascribed to normal teenage behavior), i always felt i lacked something important, something necessary to be a normal human. like, for example, empathy. i have a weird relationship with my empathy. i believe i am an empath, i just don't know well how empathy works and i can't understand it. i can't understand feelings in general. it's weird, because i am very in tune with my feelings and i can describe them well with words, and i am somehow intuitive and perceptive to other people's feelings as well, i just need more time to process everything. as if i'm some sort of machine, a computer that needs time and computing power to tackle every background process. weird, right? writing about myself like i'm not human, but that's just how i feel. don't get me wrong, i'm not an emotionless person. i feel every emotion deeply, be it positive or negative. if i'm angry, i'm enraged. when i am euphoric for some reason, i can't sit still, i'm agitated, heart beating fast and mind racing 150 miles per hour so my mouth cannot keep up. when i'm sad, the sadness is so strong i become suicidal because i can't take it anymore. these are, i believe, the three big emotions i felt the most in my life, alternating like a revolving door, like the one you saw in hotels years ago. i've never been happy, not once in my entire life. i would remember it. i would treasure it and do my best to replicate that feeling again. anyway, sometimes my empathy just shuts down, and i become cynical, even cruel (only with words). i don't know why that happens, and i don't know if it happens to normal people too, that sometimes they just don't care and say cruel stuff with a disturbing carelessness. i feel defective. my mom does this, too. it's probably something i picked up from her: sometimes, she says things so cruel that i stare at her, mouth agape, unable to understand what the fuck is going through her head to even think something like that. but i surprise myself doing the same sometimes.
man, i'm always talking about my mom. maybe because we're so intertwined, our bond is so strong and we're so codependent that it's difficult to imagine myself as my own person without her influence. even in a post where i wanted to talk about my nonexistent creativity, somehow, she creeps in. her light eyes, cold as ice when she disapproves of whatever i do, say, or want to be, full of mirth when she jokes around and is her funny self or big and baby-like, as if they're trying to induce pity, it depends on who she talks to. sometimes, i don't know why, i even forget i had a dad. and that's weird because despite my codependent and unhealthy relationship with my mom, i loved my dad the most. he's been the only one whose eyes gave me something that wasn't coldness, or emptiness. he looked at me with such sweetness and tenderness, like he loved me for who i was, exactly for who i was. i never found anyone else who looked at me like that. my dad's eyes smiled at me, even when he was dying. when i look other people in the eyes (i trained myself to keep eye contact for at least 10-20 seconds because i found it incredibly difficult and anxiety-inducing) i see just emptiness. i can't see anything, and it's scary, it makes me weak in the knees, it fills me with so much dread.
how the fuck i managed to go so off topic when i wanted to just rant after going on a following spree of beautiful neocities sites and wallowing in self pity because i will never be as skilled and creative as these webmasters are, is beyond me.
man, i'm always talking about my mom. maybe because we're so intertwined, our bond is so strong and we're so codependent that it's difficult to imagine myself as my own person without her influence. even in a post where i wanted to talk about my nonexistent creativity, somehow, she creeps in. her light eyes, cold as ice when she disapproves of whatever i do, say, or want to be, full of mirth when she jokes around and is her funny self or big and baby-like, as if they're trying to induce pity, it depends on who she talks to. sometimes, i don't know why, i even forget i had a dad. and that's weird because despite my codependent and unhealthy relationship with my mom, i loved my dad the most. he's been the only one whose eyes gave me something that wasn't coldness, or emptiness. he looked at me with such sweetness and tenderness, like he loved me for who i was, exactly for who i was. i never found anyone else who looked at me like that. my dad's eyes smiled at me, even when he was dying. when i look other people in the eyes (i trained myself to keep eye contact for at least 10-20 seconds because i found it incredibly difficult and anxiety-inducing) i see just emptiness. i can't see anything, and it's scary, it makes me weak in the knees, it fills me with so much dread.
how the fuck i managed to go so off topic when i wanted to just rant after going on a following spree of beautiful neocities sites and wallowing in self pity because i will never be as skilled and creative as these webmasters are, is beyond me.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-26 02:44 pm (UTC)Right at the end you brought up eye contact so I was thinking autism but also you talk about the way your dad would look at you so, idk, might be something in there, i can't just come in and say it's only autism.
obviously you know yourself best.