When you trust someone, illusion has begun.
I have vehemently been avoiding producing any type of real artwork out of the fear of failure. I guess I've been doing this for a few days now. Who am I going to disappoint, myself?
I hate people as a whole. Two fucking days in a row I go up there and still no one buys anything. After you asked me to come. And the lady who takes the order won't send me my check for another 2 weeks, I'm sure. Just like last time.
Being middle class sucks. And so do monotonous formalities.
I've quietly nurtured this private dream of becoming an artist for years, maybe about 3. It's when I realized what would truly make me happy, or at least content with my existence. Why do I struggle so hard against it? Rejection, fear, failure. All of these things and more. "It's easier to not do it than to try and fail." How stupid is that logic. If I could just apply myself all the time. But that's hard not to sabotage yourself when your moods change with the wind. I really need some stability, I suppose. I'm not even sure how I feel right now. I feel very strange.
Sometimes I am so uncomfortable in my own skin.
It's like I can't escape. I'm trying really hard, I promise; however, it's hard throwing yourself into things when you're trying so hard not to step off the edge. Some days it is so hard performing the menial tasks of everyday life it gets stifling.
I can never put into words what goes on inside my head.
I think I'm suffocating again, and I only come to find that it's my own hand at my throat. The way it's always been.
And I guess that's all I can pour out for now.
I hate people as a whole. Two fucking days in a row I go up there and still no one buys anything. After you asked me to come. And the lady who takes the order won't send me my check for another 2 weeks, I'm sure. Just like last time.
Being middle class sucks. And so do monotonous formalities.
I've quietly nurtured this private dream of becoming an artist for years, maybe about 3. It's when I realized what would truly make me happy, or at least content with my existence. Why do I struggle so hard against it? Rejection, fear, failure. All of these things and more. "It's easier to not do it than to try and fail." How stupid is that logic. If I could just apply myself all the time. But that's hard not to sabotage yourself when your moods change with the wind. I really need some stability, I suppose. I'm not even sure how I feel right now. I feel very strange.
Sometimes I am so uncomfortable in my own skin.
It's like I can't escape. I'm trying really hard, I promise; however, it's hard throwing yourself into things when you're trying so hard not to step off the edge. Some days it is so hard performing the menial tasks of everyday life it gets stifling.
I can never put into words what goes on inside my head.
I think I'm suffocating again, and I only come to find that it's my own hand at my throat. The way it's always been.
And I guess that's all I can pour out for now.