the returning to my work has been so painful in a number of ways. i haven't drawn in 2 months because of the homecide and the feeling of hopelessness in life. but im tired of feeling empty. i need expression. i need to illustrate. i need to write poetry. i need to feel again.

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Strugglng with my inner demons over failure and fear. I'm afraid and I don't understand why I'm stuck in this perpetual state of freeze. Passionless and unwilling desire to crack. I just keep thinking, maybe there's something out there to keep me alive. A purpose.

I'm clinging to the rocks of this eternal ocean, the waves of all that's unresting bashing against my already bruised and wilting skin... Just looking for the x that marks the spot in the dark. How I wish unashamedly that love would find me in such an intense storm.

Because the demons know that I cannot love the monster I see myself as, and the fragment of hope is that someone else will not see this gnawing beast bashing against its chains in anger, thrashing and screaming at anything that nears it as a threat - but a reality of a frightened bird trying to flee from the pain instead.