Oooh, I get it now
While I was answering that last question, it dawned on me that my obsession with popping may be a little misunderstood, and for good reason, as I’ve come to understand.
As I’ve stated more than a few times, I used to inflate, just like the characters in my drawings. Initially, it was just to give myself a big, round belly, one big enough that I could hug it (I was quite young when I first started). As time went by in my quest for an enormous belly, I began to enjoy the pressure more than the size. The feeling of my abdomen, full and tight, the muscles, flesh, and organs all stretching, fighting to stay together; it became an obsession. I wanted to stretch more, push myself to take more.
Of course, if I were to take too much, I would pop like a balloon. But how much was too much? How much more could I take? One more pump? Two? Three? Thirty? I pushed myself, I’d usually be shaking in anticipation as the pressure built higher and higher. How will I know when I’ve gone too far? How will I know when I’m close? More than once I threw caution to the wind and pumped away, and those were the times that I learned that I could still take so much more than I thought.
It was frustrating. Every time I hit a point where I would think “I can’t take anymore, one more pump and I’ll burst,” and I’d give myself one more, then another, ten, twenty, more and more, my body continued to endure it, growing fuller, tighter, closer to the end, or not.
I’m getting away from myself a bit.
The point is, I know what it feels like to blow up like a balloon (yes, with a helium tank and all), but I have no idea what it feels like to burst. I know what it feels like to be at your limit, and to feel that limit pushed further and further, but I have no idea what it feels like for that limit to actually end.
That’s where I draw from, that’s why I embrace popping, because it’s the one thing I could never quite do. For me, it’s about drawing one of my greatest desires, something I always wanted, despite the fact that it wouldn’t end well. Only now do I really understand that it’s only because of my own personal experiences that I see it that way, and that from the outside, I probably looks like a creepy snuff obsessed freak o.o;;
TL;DR: I draw people popping because I want to pop myself, not because I enjoy snuff.
Notes
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ballooncid reblogged this from drakemohkami and added:
Include others, as well as myself, and ditto!
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emptysprite86 liked this nanookherrington said: So you don’t think about the tremendous tragedy that would be? The pain? The lack of realization that you are no longer alive? Death doesn’t phase you about it? You would never even get to enjoy it again. Its one time, and its hard to say how enjoyable it would even be unless you’re a sadist and like pain. You’re not afraid to die because of something so silly?
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