On deciding when to stop
On self pity, self-worth, and the internal struggles of being an artist
I oscillate between feeling the need to be seen and the lack of desire to be seen. It eats at me immensely and yet, somehow I am still here. I was reminded that soon it will be two years of writing here on this platform. Two years of showing up and sharing and yet, life still feels somehow devoid of color. Sadness, immense sadness comes from deep inside my belly and egulfs everything that I know to be true. It attempts to swallow me whole, and I let it. One year ago, I was in the exact same space. One year ago, I wrote a collection of words I thought would pivot the trajectory of my life and the world, and somehow, another year has passed and I feel that I haven’t done much at all.
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