Kk I’m venting to hell about this probably so I’ll do it under a break I can feel the paragraph already jfc
Comparing yourself in art is so weird, and staring at your own art and the things you’ve created and just tearing yourself apart over it feels like I’m never actually making anything good. Like even if I’m proud of a piece, after a few days, even after a few hours sometimes, I see things that could be better, or things I messed up that seem so obvious, and I end up fucking hating it.
I’m not an artist. I don’t devote all my time and skill into drawing, I write. I’m supposed to be a writer. But I’ve been drawing more, and creating more than just words, and sometimes I wish I never picked it back up In January. I wish I just kept it in the back of my mind as some silly little thing I could barely do.
I shouldn’t uphold myself to this standard, but I do. I’ve noticed it more lately, I’ve been fucking picking and tearing everything I make apart like I need to dissect it and hate myself for every little thing that’s wrong. I miss being proud of my art. I miss doing something and feeling so happy that it looked right the first time I drew it. But it’s just like, impossible anymore. I don’t really have an art style. I can’t fucking shade or render or whatever the hell it’s called, I don’t know a lot about art stuff because I’m not an artist. I’m not and I never have been. I don’t know why I think I can be one. It’s been working against me for so long too. I can’t see half the colours I need to to be able to create anything good, and that’s why I rely on words, not images, to be able to make things. I don’t need to know how to pick up an art pen to write, or to be able to see half of the colours in the world to make a story.
I’m!!!! So just? Disappointed in myself. Because I don’t know why I can’t feel proud anymore. I can’t call myself bad, because I know I’m not, but I hesitate to call myself good. It’s subjective, I know that, but I wish there was a line I could understand, a line I could force myself to see and give myself a definitive answer on if I even deserve it or not.
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the entire situation with the way people are treating welcome home’s creator is like. the most discouraging thing i have ever seen. like. if this is the way artists and writers are treated then what’s the point of posting anything.
the creator seems to be having a breakdown now and there are still people looking at that and saying “lol well screw you, it’s the internet, your creations are now mine!!!”
i... i don’t know what to do anymore.
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The intrusive thoughts % is going up with inflation
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how do you know how bad it's gotten?
when a house and food makes you feel spoiled?
or, more importantly,
when do you begin to question why?
when do you begin to question who?
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I have been going around for 3 days now says, “That’s not very Bang Chan of you.” I think I’m calling out for help or my brain has become a meme waste land where thought go to die.
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I feel like I’m in a parasocial relationship with most of y’all tbh
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Should I Feel?
Just sitting here, numb to the feelings I should be feeling. Chaos brewing deep, deep down. Not like the building pressure of a volcano about to explode. Like the tides; seemingly calm on the outside but with riptides and hidden masses below the surface that can shred you to bits in a matter of seconds.
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My dumbass brain just supplied me with the sentence, A Triangle is not an animal.
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