A damn deception that everything needs a reason first to exist, that's what. Maybe that doesn't make sense... maybe it's the apparent insomnia I've developed that's influencing my brain's reasoning mechanisms. Perhaps it's a long-time deceiving seed that has weeded it's way into my brain to make my "Just Because for art" break and be broken.
My Art is broken - it's the best way I can describe it. X( Tears are actually running down my face as I write this... it's a horrible feeling and I don't know how to "unbreak" my brokenesss.
Sure, I've made the drawdleings recently, but they're not the same quality as my other art. I miss those, and I miss them terribly.
I can't fix this! I've tried, and in so many ways that you wouldn't believe. Why does my damn brain take so long to just get over things and fix itself? It took me - what - 20 something years or so to get over something that happened when I was around 10 years old. I know I got over it because I let my hair grow long again and even had permanent eyeliner done to seem more feminine. I still can't control my emotions at the slightest inkling of conflict that affects me, and **** it I am so TIRED of that! It bloody annoys everyone and interrupts my train of thought and causes me to just shut up and hide it in a deep hole.
I used to be able to use those kind of situations to fuel my art and be able to pour my all into making art. Now I can't anymore. I just lose focus and boredom interrupts and I end up just watching YouTube videos or sleeping the day away (at least my dreams give some excitement - new escape mechanism, yay! Pfft).
I have so many things I want to finish! My Pedrigon comic redo, Xora's picture, and countless other things including awesome wings I want to make. Heck, I spent ages researching how to draw wings properly, started to work on Pedrigon's second chapter's new cover image, and what... it's on hold. WHYYYY THE HELL, brain, WHYY?! Why have I been making it sound like my brain is out of my control? How the flip does that even work, huh?
I think I lost my Why when someone asked about a picture I did (a character that popped into my head and I wanted to give him life). He asked why I drew him and what purpose he had. Why was he the way he was? I said just because he existed in my head and I wanted to take him out and show him to reality, because, well, he existed. To me at least - and anyone who'd accept him and make him exist even more.
Of course, I didn't realise all this and didn't elaborate on it because my way of thinking kind of works back to front. Like when I take part in roleplays: I make something happen, or a character does something and I have no clue what the intentions are - and like any spectator only find out later why, hahaha! You know how they say that your characters have a mind of their own and write themselves? Yeah, that's how it happens - my brain can make that happen. It can create. Pull a rabbit out of a hat as if it really did come from somewhere else and really has it's own actual self awareness and life
I just wish I could express and tell about it through my drawings and art like I used to
So yeah, my question is: why did my Because turn into a scrutinising Why and have I succumbed to being an average... human being... with just nothing to show for anymore. My life feels meaningless this way and I don't want it to. Suicide is so not an option and I'm not a selfish person because I know there are people who care about me and I don't want to cause them heartache.
So I just exist now for the sake of existing, and walk on the aimless path of life to one day die and leave all those ideas and creations unfinished. No one is going to know about them, and that bothers me. I received them and still do and I can't make anything about it. I don't know how to fix this.
I really don't. Broken little girl - can't even call myself a real artist anymore. I'm sorry, I'm not smart enough to change it and I just keep on dissapointing those who expect more of me (and I do too).
Hell of a way to go, eh? Effing yaaaayyyy...
(yup, still crying here).