Fish that can’t get laid…

Fincels I call them…

I’d mentioned posting art, and I know I should, but I don’t really want to. I don’t know why, I’m just tired of posting my art, tired of even trying. The shit part is, I don’t even know if I should call it “trying.” I’d post art, I’d talk about things I was working on, but I hardly finished anything. I’d mention having things for sale or opening some online story, but I’d never talk about selling shit or commissions in the real world. I’d produce art, but never really sought to do anything with it. All of that was always just a dream, one that I’d act out day after day, night after night, in the car, in the mirror, in my head, over and over. That’s all so much of life has been. Everything was always just a daydream for me. Almost none of it’s been reality.

I’m just bitching and discouraged.

Obviously.

That said, I am getting tired of posting my art, of trying to be a known artist. It’s not that I’ve lost the zest of creating it, I’m just tired of dreaming about it, of thinking it’s going to be anything other than my own white whale. Maybe I’ll learn how to live a bit more in the present and just enjoy the making of the art, rather than thinking about how it will make me money or make me famous.

Will it help? Fuck if I know. It feels like quitting, but maybe it’s what I need.

Dicks for listening!