what if im not medically depressed what if im just a massive lazy cunt and big loser
Sorry man. You are too weird and unpleasant. Can you please never talk to anyone again and starve to death in a small cell? Thank you.
ultimately the questions I keep wanting to ask artists I admire have answers they could not possibly give (answers that would suddenly make everything click into place for me, personally, without having to actually shed any blood/sweat (metaphorical) for them myself)
suchhh a dramatic way of putting it, lmao!
but also: I’m thinking about how making art (be it cartooning or writing fiction or writing about film or media or anything) just doesn’t feel good, how it was always embarrassing and cringe-y but somehow in the past I still did it because there was something in the act of making something. Even stuff that I think sucked would endear itself to me just by virtue of existing. I don’t get that anymore but nothing has really filled that space. Maybe nothing will and It will never come back to me. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for here. I need a hobby is what I’m getting at, but it’s hard to discern what feels good when you are Unfortunately a little incapable of Feeling Good
really trying to thoughtfully consider what charmwitch is saying here
why Did I ever want to create things? what exactly kept me making stuff even through all the self-loathing and doubt and embarrassment / frustration of “Not Being Good At It?” can someone tell me
ultimately the questions I keep wanting to ask artists I admire have answers they could not possibly give (answers that would suddenly make everything click into place for me, personally, without having to actually shed any blood/sweat (metaphorical) for them myself)
suchhh a dramatic way of putting it, lmao!
but also: I’m thinking about how making art (be it cartooning or writing fiction or writing about film or media or anything) just doesn’t feel good, how it was always embarrassing and cringe-y but somehow in the past I still did it because there was something in the act of making something. Even stuff that I think sucked would endear itself to me just by virtue of existing. I don’t get that anymore but nothing has really filled that space. Maybe nothing will and It will never come back to me. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for here. I need a hobby is what I’m getting at, but it’s hard to discern what feels good when you are Unfortunately a little incapable of Feeling Good
ultimately the questions I keep wanting to ask artists I admire have answers they could not possibly give (answers that would suddenly make everything click into place for me, personally, without having to actually shed any blood/sweat (metaphorical) for them myself)
biggest thing stopping me from [redacted] is maybe the idea of someone having to clean my room and figure out what to do with all my stuff, just the logistics of it all
