This, “living the dream shit”, is fucking hard. I’m super emo and I just want to complain about every, single thing. I want to cry and overeat. I want to give up and burn it all down. But, I can’t. Being an artist is a compulsion like no other.
I will keep going even if this crap is never good enough for anyone to purchase or admire it.
I gots too many feels right now. It’s like I’m stuffed full of butterflies and bumblebees. I laugh cry and cry laugh. My heart beats fast and I want to sleep all day. I want to do ten million things but I can only do one thing and I can’t decide which one so all I can do is sit her and hummmmm to myself. Either that or it’s all blasting Beasties and talking to myself. I blame the moon. Oh, and the smell of Daphne.
I’d go make art but it just turns out squishy and sharp.