Greetings. I'd be lying if I typed I planned to be gone from this website for this long. But, due to certain situations I was dealing with, I wasn't in any condition to make and share art. And I do believe the title of this journal does a good job of summing up what those certain situations were...
I was gone from this website as long as I have, because I became incredibly disillusioned with those I believed to be my friends.
And while the friends I've currently got are far greater than the "friends" I originally had, I can't truly continue on until I get the thoughts and feelings I had for the ones I originally had out of my system. I thought I could, but I learned a couple weeks ago that bottling up one's thoughts and feelings is, indeed, detrimental to one's mental health. Hence, I'm typing this journal, as those who've chosen to stand by me here deserve to know why I vanished, and why I've returned.
There's never been a time where I haven't been adamant about making the art I want to make, no matter how "problematic" or "morally wrong" it may be. Human creativity is infinite in every way, and to attempt to put restrictions on something as infinite as human creativity, is utter nonsense to me. Some artists have wilder, weirder, darker imaginations than others, and if they want to explore their imaginations, they will. Unfortunately, on the modern Internet, being an artist who doesn't have any qualms exploring their imagination--no matter how wild, weird, or dark it may be--makes you a target.
For a long time, I foolishly believed I needed the people who targeted me to understand me. I believed that, by thoroughly explaining to those kinds of people why I like what I like and draw what I draw, they'd eventually understand me, or at least tolerate me, and everything would be okay. But I never realized until it was too late how truly unreasonable and hostile people on the Internet are when dealing with art they don't like or understand... let alone the artists who make said art, and defend the making of said art.
Every explanation led to more misunderstandings, every conversation led to more arguments, and it eventually got to the point where I didn't know what to do anymore. I wanted to make the art I wanted, so I did so, but while there were people who did like what I made, they were often outnumbered by people who simply hated everything I made. I knew deep down there were people who were supporting me and wanted to see my work, but the hatred I was getting made me feel lost and alone for a long time.
That is, until I encountered a couple people that genuinely heard me out.
I won't state their names, but these two people were two of the very, very few people who were perfectly willing to listen to me regarding my stance on art, and why I make the "problematic" art I make. I would talk with them on Discord for hours, they would share their works with me, and I would share mine with theirs, and those times were genuinely fun. Those two people were people that I genuinely considered to be my friends, for they were the only people at the time that actually listened to me. At the time, I felt like all the world was against me, and I was in a very dark place before they came along.
But, while I learned a lot from the experiences I had with them, these two people ultimately weren't the people I thought they were. I learned months ago that these people--these people I spent a very long time believing they were my friends, and believing they understood me--were fakes all along. And they each turned out to be fakes in their own ways:
One of them lied to me from the very beginning, about everything they told me regarding how they perceived my art, my kinks, and my stance on the freedom of expression. As for the other, while they possessed more integrity than the first one, they ultimately couldn't fathom why I was into the things I was into, and were so uncomfortable with what I drew and chose to stand by that they chose to simply cut ties with me. Needless to say, these revelations took a massive toll on me; it felt like I was back to square one yet again, alone and in desperate need of someone who'd actually try and understand me.
After all, if even two people I spent months upon months talking to, sharing things with, and explaining things to ultimately couldn't come to accept or understand me... who would?
But that's when I got a message on this very website from a person who watches my account. I won't state their name, either, but in their message, they told me that they liked the art I've created, and that they wanted to connect with me on Discord. And so, I did so, and from there, a new friendship was formed. But, unlike past friendships, most of which weren't even real...
This one was.
And, from that one true friendship, I was able to find other people on this website and others to connect with. I was able to fully connect with them on Discord, and it was like I was dreaming. I finally found the kinds of people I've always been looking for: People who were actually like me. People who actually shared the same taste in art I did, who were into the same things I was in, who could actually hear me out and have conversations with me, who actually listened to me.
It took such a long time, but I finally, finally found people that I can actually, without a doubt, call my friends.
And, as for the reason I've returned to InkBunny, my reasons why are more complex than "I just want to post porn art":
I have returned to InkBunny, because making art is one of my biggest passions. And I finally realized how much of a mistake it was, to care so much about what other people think that it ended up interfering with both how I perceive my passion and how I indulge in my passion.
I ended up abused and led on betrayed and abandoned by so many people because the people who did said things to me never saw me as anything more than part of a problem. They never saw me as a person, just a freak who's into weird stuff that deserves nothing but ridicule and mockery. That's why it's so easy for them to slap so many labels onto me, because when you don't see the person in question as a human to begin with, you can do anything you want to them, and not feel a shred of remorse for it. And it's admittedly my fault, as well, for I was so desperate to find someone out there who'd actually listen to me, who'd actually understand me, that I was willing to talk and interact with anyone. Even people that, in hindsight, I should've just avoided.
It was my mistake for believing that constantly explaining myself to people--people who never cared and made up their minds about me before they ever got to really know me--was something I had to do. And it was also my mistake for thinking a website like Twitter would be a place where I'd genuinely find people who'd actually listen to me. Believing Twitter would be the website where I'd find compassion and understanding was the most foolish decision I ever made...
But I do not have a reason to be on Twitter anymore. I will never have a reason to be on Twitter ever again.
It is a website that is now in utter shambles. So many artists who were once all the rage now barely do or make anything. Some have just vanished with little to no fanfare. Some who were once seen as upstanding citizens have been outed as monsters who've been committing all kinds of atrocities for years. Some are still fairly popular, but are struggling to keep a roof over their head and put food on the table. Some do nothing but fight each other over what it "morally right" or "morally wrong". Some have given up because of the backlash their artwork get. And the list just goes on and on. It simply isn't possible for an artist like me to thrive in an environment like that, where it's only chaos and everything I create will always be seen as wrong.
But, if there's one thing I can state that's good about what I've experienced, it's that I was ultimately able to find my true friends.
I've been chatting with them, making and sharing art with me, learning about them, and by proxy learning more about myself... and as a result I've come to enjoy making art more than I ever have in years.
Which is why I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I will continue for them.
I will continue for the true friends I've made, on InkBunny, on Discord, on Baraag, on Pixiv...
I will continue for the true friends I've made on the websites where I always belonged.
I don't have the same kind of time I used to in the past, so regular updates is no longer possible. And I'd rather keep all my creations on one account on one website this time. But I now know that there are people who want me to continue, who want me to express myself, and what to see the art that I make. And I think that's one of the things I always needed to know:
That there are people out there who really are like me, who have the same kinks and ideas that I have, and have no qualms sharing them with the world.
And as for those out there who're like me and ever see this, learn from my mistakes: I foolishly believed that convincing people on the Internet that my fetishes weren't "problematic" was something I had to do, in order to be accepted and given the permission to make it. But it doesn't matter if they can't accept it, and you don't require anyone's permission to create the art you wish to create.
And in this day and age, with how much AI art has spread and how rampant censorship has become, making the art you actually want to make is more important than ever.
And, no matter how long it'll take you, you can and will eventually find the place where you belong, and the people who'll unconditionally accept you.
The two people I originally met did help me when I had no-one else, and I can at least thank them for that, as I would've given up years ago, if it weren't for them...
But, in the end, they were never the people I believed they were, and in the end were just parts of the problem I and so many others like me deal with to this day.
But, with the friends I now have, I know for a fact I'll be okay.
With the friends I now have, I know I'm not a freak, a problem, a hindrance, a criminal, or someone who promotes or encourages horrible things.
With the friends I now have, I know that I am, indeed, an artist.
