So, I'm not sad, I made this for fun! :3 so don't spam the comments with: are you okay? yes I'm fine :PPP EDIT: stop. remixing. this. otherwise. it. will. get. to. reporting. EDIT: Could everyone please just stop remixing this without MY permission? its getting pretty annoying. RULES: ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ no happy faces, this is a vent map ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ more experienced animators for this please! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ draw your own ocs, :333 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ please don't let yourself down! "Oh yours is way better than mine," ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ don't make fun of someones part! everyone's improving y'know! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ the codeword is inside the project, the bottom one is fake ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ your deadline is October! please do not rush! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ blood/gore is allowed. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ have fun! :3 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ the codeword is work (haHA IGNORE THE RULE UP TOP THAT SAYS THE CODEWORD IS IN THE PROJECT >:D ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ PARTS: INTRO @Ozi13ozi (DONE) PART 1 @Pawsome13 (DONE) PART 2 @PrincessLunaTheFox (DONE) PART 3 @NightDragonRCP (DONE) PART 4 @TwinkleTheCat (DONE) PART 5 @DarkCoderGirl (DONE) PART 6 @fallinq-- (WIP) PART 7 @Snailkit PART 8 @Bluesnowdrawp (DONE) PART 9 @AshyClawzz PART 10 @cs1370231 (DONE) PART 11 (DONE) PART 12 PART 13 PART 14 (DONE) PART 15 (DONE) PART 16 PART 17 (DONE) PART 18 PART 19 PART 20 PART 21 (DONE) PART 22 (DONE) PART 23 (DONE) PART 24 (DONE) OUTRO (DONE) ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ BACKUPS: , , (16) ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ LYRICS: Explaining my depression to my mother: A conversation Mom, my depression is a shapeshifter One day it's as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear The next it's the bear On those days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone I call the bad days "the Dark Days" Mom says, "try lighting candles" But when I see a candle, I see the flesh of a church The flicker of a flame Sparks of a memory younger than noon I am standing beside her open casket It is the moment I learn every person I ever come to know will someday die Besides Mom, I'm not afraid of the dark, perhaps that's part of the problem Mom says, "I thought the problem was that you can't get out of bed" I can't, anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head Mom says, "Where did anxiety come from?" Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town that depression felt obligated to invite to the party Mom, I am the party, only I am a party I don't want to be at Mom says, "Why don't you try going to actual parties, see your friends" Sure I make plans, I make plans but I don't want to go I make plans because I know I should want to go; I know sometimes I would have wanted to go It's just not that fun having fun when you don't want to have fun, Mom You see, Mom, each night Insomnia sweeps me up in his arms, dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company Mom says, "Try counting sheep" But my mind can only count reasons to stay awake So I go for walks, but my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells, reminding me I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness that I cannot baptize myself in Mom says, "Happy is a decision" But my happy is as hollow as a pin pricked egg My happy is a high fever that will break Mom says I am so good at making something out of nothing and then flat out asks me if I am afraid of dying No Mom I am afraid of living Mom I am lonely I think I learned that when Dad left how to turn the anger into lonely the lonely into busy So when I say I've been super busy lately I mean I've been falling asleep watching SportsCenter on the couch To avoid confronting the empty side of my bed But my depression always drags me back to my bed Until my bones are the forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city My mouth a boneyard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves The hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with echoes of a heartbeat But I am just a careless tourist here I will never truly know everywhere I have been Mom still doesn't understand Mom, can't you see That neither can I
