2nd log here
today was nice, I thought of who I could be,
Ithought of what could I be and should be, I ended up killing that pessimistic spiral by
"I can't be who I should be, at the end I'm only flesh"
.
in the end I know I painted an ideal version of who should I be and I would never reach that, maybe I wanted to keep a forever hustling, idk, I stabbed myself and left the knife there and from time to time I would touch it just to remember I did this, and just to remember that it huers
but that's .. well, it's over I guess, now I'm wondering why I can't make things I want to do, I want to read my book, I want to write my story, I want to finish my FUCKNG drawing that has been there for 2 weeks, its already there the line art is perfect, why can't I just color it?? come one it's so frustating, maybe I'm stuck in this loop until I make something, idk, I just wish I was a different time, a different route, a different me