Sometimes I wonder why I try.
The only motivation I have to draw is for affection from others; glory; yet I can't seem to get that.
DeviantArt has destroyed any hope I have of getting noticed, unless I take up some weird obscure genre of art just to hit the front page with ease.
I don't really improve due to going months without putting pencil to paper. It's a vicious cycle. My imagination has been snuffed out by reality and the only way I can get myself to keep going is fan art, because people will ALWAYS flock to the recognizable, and it's little mental effort on my end to execute.
Any time I submit something that genuinely means everything to me, it's possibly the LEAST noticed.
On top of all of this, at the very least I beg for feedback and get none here, so I humiliate myself by posting to the lowlife imgurians, and bias facebook friends. Teachers hate my artwork, it's too "illustrative"...
I work full time in retail surrounded by constant reminders that I'm far better than any of it, and deserve better after everything I've been through.
Yet here I am. Typing out one last sigh to the public web. Not that anybody will see it.
I want purpose.
Listening to: Veorra - Run
Reading: A Simple Plan