Tag Archives: personal

Trying to keep busy, bee ba boo bee~


Just a quick little timelapse video with some things I recently made. I know it isn’t the highest quality or a frigging award-winning cinematographic masterpiece or anything of that sort, soz. This was literally filmed with some natural 7 AM lighting, on my phone that was propped up on a haphazard stack of books and held together by a bit of kneaded eraser, and the entire setup was constantly in danger of completely collapsing altogether if I dared so much as to carelessly move my elbow. Which was all too terrifyingly plausible, judging by how fucking cramped this small table is already. And I forgot to lock in the focus before I started, so there’s a lot of dizzying blurry bits in there as well. Lastly, please pardon my fatarse hand constantly getting in the way as I hastily mixed in the colours.

For the artwork, it’s just your run-of-the-mill watercolour painting in my main cartoony style, just a quick scribble of two of my favourite people in the world looking all goofy and stuff. It’s actually a redraw of an old drawing I’ve had pasted in my journal for over a year now, hence why the paper size (btw I’m using Fabriano paper, cold pressed, 25% cotton, 200gsm) is half as small than what I tend to usually work on. Speaking of, I’ve also had my dearest Sakura Koi set for a year now and though a bit stubborn and chalky at times, this thing is still holding up like a true champ despite all the relentless abuse I put it through and I’m rather fond of it ahah. Anywhozzles, this piece is so far away from completely done—there’s still about a thousand layers to go (though not as much as the fancy schmancier portraits thank beelzebub, those ones are honestly a headache and a half smh), but it took me maybe thirty minutes to pencil in the initial sketch and finalise the lineart, and about ten minutes to lay down these initial flat colours. I also didn’t pre-mix my palette beforehand—in usual Allen fashion—and it’s kinda hella messy for now, but it wouldn’t be my art if it wasn’t fuck-all!!! I kinda have half a mind to film the last end stages and timelapse that as well but I guess we’ll see about that…?

As for the track, bloody hell, it took way longer than the actual artwork itself. Like way, way, mikey fuckin waaay longer. Maybe a couple hours, give or take??? So firstly, I threw together a quick lofi beat with a nice looper (i had way too much fun with the filter and gater here can y’all tell), then it came to figuring out what sound bite I wanted to sample (ofc i settled with one from a metal meme video), then extracting the sample from the aforementioned video and setting the right bpm and key. And then I had to arrange the various elements I had and add some effects; first to the vocal samples, then to the additional piano and midi audio, and then finally to the overall track itself. Which also meant that I had to personally customise the fx pedals, which took some fiddling with and figuring out as well since I don’t really know jack shit about music production. But in the end, I settled for a bit of tremolo here and there on the sound bites (but not too much as to be blatantly overpowering), added some slight distortion and spacey reverb for that nice ambience, upped the gain and boosted the bass for an extra vintage ethereal vibe, and included just a smidge of compression to reduce the audio peaks and make it sound a lot more cohesive altogether. Added one last CD quality preset mix for the final mastering and boom, this piece of shit for an end product!! It’s really not the best one I’ve created so far. Or at all, by any other criteria. It’s honestly kindergarten-level simple and very stripped-down compared to my other few WIP projects and I wish I could’ve added just a few more elements to make it truly stand out—but then again, the former took days and days of relentless editing and this was thrown together in about five hours so that has to cut me some slack?? Idk but yo my fire asf mixtape be coming out soon for only $69.69 on bandcamp pls support this starving artist jk

I had no idea how much of that dumb rant even made sense to anyone at all—but long story short, I made some okay art and music thingies, they were really fun to make, I’m quite happy to waste my time with learning cool stuff that maybe doesn’t feel like too much of a waste, and I don’t really have any friends anymore nor nearby people who’ll even give half a damn about my random hyperfixations so I’ll just incessantly overelaborate about it on here instead??? That’s all thanks for coming to my TEDx byeee

Update: seven or eight not-so-quick glazes later, here’s how it looks with the flat colours fully blocked in, and then it’s finally detail and shadow time :’)

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Filed under Other stuff

circling infinity

colder nights

where i wish

your limbs

are intertwined

with mine

summer snowfall

cotton fibres

wandering

empty branches

all over again

vast meadows

for ancient souls

to rest on

fragrance of

inkstains and dying

strawberries

breeze whistling

haunting melodies

but i stay away

from noisy static

and i listen to

a smiling song,

hidden blush

distractions

oh, i don’t mind

messy clouds

clearing up

a splatter

of shy stars

slowly make way

for a painted

embrace

fairy lights and

oceanic laughter

lying in wait

a soft illusion

of hyperrealisms

and misplaced

daydreams

fell dryads of life

neither mine,

nor yours

our transience

taking chances

still fighting

against control

and colours

and this violent

riot of frigid

chemicals

blissful nothing

smitten euphoria

an oxytocin kiss

for a love that

won’t exist

in a future

vespertine or

less miserable

than a cold night

all alone,

contemplating

sombre and lost

picking dead grass

from high tops

and sweaters

and tangled veins

gently hoping for

a vacancy, yet

unraveling at

the harshest thought

of somebody else

interlocked with

your limbs

arms and legs

talks and lips and a

puzzle of bones

and reposing bodies

tranquil hush

whispers of blue

fading away

and falling down

keeping all of your

warmest nights.

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Filed under Poetry

lágrima

i cried

for the first

time in a

long time

today, and

.

the tears

are not for

me, they are

meant for

someone else

.

and the

sadness is

not mine,

only my lack

of control

.

towards them—

i wept, and it hurt,

but i could only

imagine how much

worse it was for you.

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Filed under Poetry

mementos and keepsakes

pieces of you—

scattered on post-it

notes, and cute stickers,

and bright polaroids

grinning at me every time

i have my head buried

beneath my terse hands,

sitting blankly by the table as my

unsteady life starts giving in

to the inexorable collapse…

.

i think it’s killing my mind

.

but i take these little

pieces of you, and i use it

to fill in the missing patches

within me that’s making

me crash and crumble

until they render me whole;

maybe someday i could

finally return them to you, but

not without pieces of me

still clinging on to it—

.

i hope you won’t mind.

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Filed under Poetry

sometimes i exist i think

I can feel a change
I lie awake every night, scratching
At the back of my eyelids
Nothing good ever happens
In the midnight hour…

~*~

distance stemmed

from coveting and

plainness, an upside

down mixolydian

reverie, never enoughs

for nobody was—crave to

choose isolation from

an option of tenfolds

because it eases the

passageways and

makes for a placid tale

of another ghost haunting

their own apartment

simply because they

wanted to leave the door

without a key just ever

so slightly unlocked

~*~

Don’t look at the moon
While the light is draining
It’s slowly killing you
Don’t look at the moon…

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Filed under Poetry

Peripheral Vision

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What a stubborn thought; to be loved, to be lost, to be loathed.

My initial mistake was to get myself foolishly caught up in the former instance, without carefully considering the ulterior consequences of my despicably reckless actions. I dived headfirst without peering in to see if there was a tangible ocean beneath me, and cried out in regret when my body got viciously torn apart by the jagged rocks awaiting below.

But, what else could I have done? And what else should I have not? I could spend my entire life painstakingly sifting through the showering grains of the hourglass, attempting to find a diamond until time runs out; or I could simply let the sand fall away to its own accord as I willingly hold out my roughened hands below—hurting, helping, hoping. The unfortunate namesake “human” is deeply threaded through my innocent nerves, shutting out the callous pessimism which only seeks to permanently cease my blood circulation; still withering against the gentler stings of anguish.

Though I have slowly faded out most of my past anamnesis, all of their phantasmic chimeras are still somehow luminously vigilant, almost even barbarous in its unremitting pursuit to frivolously preserve my already-squandered youth. Yet I suppose, no matter…no matter. For now, you are the overgrown wildflower field lulling my tired providence to rest, under fluid stars and unplucked scars and quavering sympathy—the only thankless relapse fully able to keep me awake for multiple infinitudes every twilight’s eve.

What a stubborn thought; to be loathed, to be lost, to be loved by you.

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Filed under Prose

Echopraxia

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I am not as truthful with my words

As I am with the mirror of another person

Irritating, a mimicked eloquence in my every verve

A quiet death in between the lines of reason

.

Yet I yearn to be autobiographical

To move the hills with my own sorrow

Bleed ocean waves with the sound of my voice

Crashing, cresting—swollen abyss

.

No one will touch it with a paperweight

My skin itches with healed sores, my mouth

Itches with the desire to be heard,

My mind is severed from my body; regret, culminating

.

They hear my suffering but not my thumping heart

I think it to be nonexistent—am I the truth?

No one notices me. No one comes near. No one

Prays for the crying shadow in the corner of the room.

.

So I atone with my own subtle mess. The ink stains

They praise me for my joy—my lack of it, my lack

Of self-respect, my lack of nerves within the soul—as soon as

This chapter closes, my lies become no more than another neglected tale.

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Filed under Poetry

regenerate

Every time I think about your voice
I start to tremble, and my heart’s aching
And anytime you need a shoulder, I’m right there
You just gotta find a way, a way…

~*~

it’s been over

a year, and all

my insides have

turned bright blue

.

coldly choking

and churning at

the constant lie

to pull me through

.

it’s been over

a year, and yet

my insides don’t

feel brand new

.

still spitting

and screaming

“damn it, why did

it have to be you?”

~*~

You scream ‘don’t look’
You scream ‘don’t touch’
What have they done?
What have I not?

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Filed under Poetry

come on, skinny love.

Skinny love, what happened here?
Suckle on the hope in lite brassiere
My, my, my, my, my, my, my
My sullen load is full
So slow on the split…

~*~

confidence in taut collarbones

and sinews of soft flesh sticking out

from these slowly-crumbling ribs

hoping they won’t notice the excess

counting macros and scale numbers

on the package of chewing gum

.

i promise you, the hunger’s not real

but the ugly bulk on your arms are

and on your legs and chest and neck

so suppress it all, ignore the growing pain

and perhaps all the consumed water

will revive this withering flower

.

brittle hair falling like twisted snow

too tired all the time from staying pretty

a dull glow from behind skinny eyes

hoping a skinny heart will keep me alive

tears dripping off like the clothes on my back

as the mirror sneers, it’s not enough

.

so i’ll just suck my skin in even tighter

and chew on empty air and constant disgust

never satisfied with my toothpick limbs

until i’m certain that my body could easily splinter

if i was given a hug, by the people who like me

because i finally look the way i forced myself to be.

~*~

Now all your love is wasted
Then who the hell was I?
Now I’m breaking at the britches
And at the end of all your lines
Who will love you? Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?

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Filed under Poetry

pseudonym [9]

CRY, CRIER

soak my tea in tears

maybe salty or bitter

or tasteless flavours.

INTERSPERSE

this old soul, it wanes

fading, my transparent veins

farewell to my pains.

ZIGZAGS

darling, we’ll dance now

find your song in slow tempo

i’ll adore you so.

ESCALATOR

staring, the staircase

malls and dollar stores closing

rush, trip, battered face.

KICK ME DOWN

talk me so toxic

lost a couple of loose teeth

talk me i’m so sick.

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Filed under Poetry