My deviantart is disgusting.
I'll be honest, its one of those teenage trysts which I made because I wanted to lurk on artists. But now it's just sitting there. Waiting to be poached on my lurking internet people.
Every now and then, one of my friends would message me on Facebook going "Ohai look what I found today [link to dA]. Derp."
Whenever the rare times I come back here to search for reference images, I sign in for the heck of it.
I'm greeted by 5000+ messages of watch updates (some people which I don't really care for that much anymore tbh come up) and it's just plain madness to sift through.
And then there's the 'artwork'. Which are no more than collages of prized 'teenage angst' turned into scribbles propelled by GaiaOnline quests. I think there's things in there dating back to 2003(?). And yet I don't delete them because: a) I can't be bothered to and b) It serves to remind me of me silly youthful trysts.
Whenever I get enough courage to sift through my gallery, all I can hear in my mind is "God, what was I thinking. Can't believe I posted that. /facepalm". (Lets not even talk about journals. Sweet mercy.)
So now, when I come on, I avoid my stuff and look around when I feel compelled to. And sometimes when I see something absolutely stunning, I leave a comment. 3 seconds later, it appears and to my horror there it is. And in huge thickness. Unavoidable.
Oh God. My signature.
It's the one of the remaining stigmas left which point out to people my 'tween-ism'. A carcass from my weird coming-of-age days.
And then the horror of a thought strikes and I go, "Shit. How many people have seen this?! Oh god oh god."
What's the point of this journal?
I'm gonna try to become a little more active on deviantart. Why?
Because I'm going to take this as irony. I'm keeping the gay signature, and I'll continue posting gay art.
Until one day, who knows, when I look at my deviantart, I won't be so embarrassed.
Might as well make the most out of it since I can't stop people from derping around right?