I feel so tired recently. These days, these months. I always crave to be alone, I enjoy living in my head a little too much now. Conversations between myself and I. And now I'm having a monologue on my blog. My tolerance towards human company is thinning, I'm always getting irritated by having company around me daily. I want to be left alone so I can focus on the conversation... that I'm having with myself..
I'm very conflicted by my love for Art now. It used to give me satisfaction when I finish a piece, but somewhere along my journey I taught myself how to pick on flaws, how to hate imperfection and strive for an unattainable form of perfection. This was to ensure I won't rest, that I'll push myself beyond whatever limits I thought I had. I think I was addicted to feeling miserable and inadequate, especially through the times in college when my teachers drove me to my own breaking point. Now that I lack a figure to push me, to force me to strive, I try to be that figure myself. And evidently, it's not working out very well. I'm afraid to make a stroke whenever I hold my pen, afraid it'll be ugly as fuck and I'll start being disappointed in myself. So I tend to avoid practicing, which makes me feel like I'm growing more and more incompetent by the day.
Really, there's nothing worse that doubting your own capabilities and ruining your own passion.
What have I done?