It's been a while since I last let my emotions govern what and how I paint. The reason I stopped doing that probably has to do with the fact that it always ends up looking like shit in the end.

For the past few years I've taken to reserving my feelings as much as possible, treating it as though it is non-existent. I absolutely detest talking about it. Even now, I'm hesitant to write what I'm about to write because at the back of my mind I know that there are bigger, more important problems people should be concerned about and that the bullshit I'm dealing with pales in comparison. I know people with real problems, and my stupid shit is nothing in comparison. However, being aware of how insignificant my problems are does not change the fact that they're still there and that they are problematic not just to me, but for me.

I feel like garbage a lot of the time. Absolutely worthless. I'm overwhelmed by this unshakable sensation that I've failed in every aspect of my life. Nothing has been turning out right these past few months. I've been flat out rejected by an art school despite trying my hardest and damnedest to get in, I've been told I can't graduate this year, my employers think I'm crap at my job even though I try really hard to please them. My art's getting shittier by the month, I'm getting stupider, fatter, and uglier, inside and out. I'm single and horribly, horribly lonely (yes, I fucking admit it, okay?). My grades are undoubtedly shit, regardless of how hard I've worked. I am the butt of all jokes and am rarely taken seriously. Nobody really appreciates anything I do for them and I'm treated like a doormat half the time. There was rarely a time where I didn't think of just ending it all. No matter how hard I try, it seems I am destined to make an ass of myself and fail completely. Watching others around me prosper where I've failed makes this realisation all the more palpable.

I keep getting the feeling that everyone's moving ahead of me and I'm stuck in this dirty ditch trying desperately to clamber out before falling right back onto the ground again. Everyone keeps asking me what I'm planning to do after I'm done with studies, and I'd have to lie to them because I'm so ashamed to tell them that I just don't know. Those of whom I tell the truth to look at me with this weird look, as though they are confused as to how I could possibly be this clueless about the direction of my life. This is part of the reason I hate uni so much. Everyone I talked to seemed to know what the hell they wanted to do. EVERYONE. They all had goals and visions of the future. And they'd all give me that same goddamn look when I tell them I don't know what I want to do. The same goddamn look that should be reserved for when they are watching someone fart into a chicken's mouth.

I feel as though I've lost my identity. Like with each year, with each failure, the more I doubt who I am. I used to think that I was an artist through and through, but the more I look at my pieces the more I realise that they're soulless. Sure they may look nice at times, but they lack the heart and emotion, the humanness of its very conception. Perhaps the hollowness of each piece was an expression of the hollowing out of my own sense of being - who the hell knows. I mean I certainly don't. But it's disturbed me because I thought art was the one thing I wasn't an incompetent asshole at doing. This lack of emotionality in the pieces devoid them of any personality whatsoever and would only be considered art in the most superficial of terms. I realised this needed to change. I was tired of failing. Of being shit at every aspect of my life. Of being told no. This is the one thing that no one can destroy. This is the one thing that no one can fucking take away from me. This is the one goddamn thing that is in my control, and damn it, I will control it. I will make it good. I will work my ass off for this and I will not let my ability wither away and die. I want to paint from the heart and soul. I want to stop feeling like shit about ONE thing in my life, and that happens to be the one thing my life revolves around. The other problems may still linger, but as long as I have one thing under my belt, I think I'll manage a bit better.

So this piece is the beginning of a new phase. I don't know if you can tell but I channelled a lot of anger and pain into this piece, but it's also enveloped by this sense of acceptance, and maybe a little bit of apathy. Let me know what you think.