/fragments

today i drew something

today i made a drawing.
didn’t really like it. it was for that game — the one where you draw someone else’s original character. maybe i should stop overthinking and just do things, but it’s hard to leave that dark zone of my mind that insists on self-destruction. why does it do that?

so i tried something else instead: atmospheres, backgrounds, emotions. i seem incapable of making happy, stylish art — it doesn’t feel like me. even the grotesque, the erotic, feels more real than romance or heroes who can fix everything.

on the other hand, isolating myself from certain stimuli has helped. i feel less sad lately. sometimes i play the sims too much, to the point i start to hate them. i know myself too well. maybe too well.

i’ve had moments of nervousness, and others where i felt strangely confident — giving a long class on forensic hair studies, realizing how much i enjoy explaining things, teaching, being a professor. and a scientist.
but there’s this other part of me that screams: you’re a creator. and everything else just steals time from that. yet every time i finish something, i’m never satisfied.
maybe i’m just hurting myself.
maybe i’m not okay.

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