today i crawl back to this typically unread speck of the internet to realize how alone i am, without goals or talent, blindly reaching and groping into an unsure future in which there are not guarantees of comfort or happiness but only the historically accurate account of my failures and shortcomings. being an ‘artist’ is bizarre because it’s considerably more difficult to balance the desire to outwardly express myself with the desire for others to relate to the feelings im expressing. so do i continue forward or do i stop and find something else to love? idk it doesnt matter
xx