bullshit.
Now I don't think I could call myself an artist without admitting I'm a little nuts, as most artists tend to be, even in small ways. After a few weeks of self loathing, denial, and deep, inner contemplation, I have officially decided: I'm fucking nuts.
Many might tell me, "No, no way," "I've seen crazier," or "What you're going through is completely normal." And, I think this is all bullshit.
I don't think I'm built for this, for love, for marriage, for kids, for a "stable" life. I'm a fucking nut-job in denial.
Or, maybe I'm grieving.
Whenever I feel as though I have lost ownership of myself, I begin to take it back. Sometimes I run, away from the good things that can feel suffocating. Sometimes I make hideous decisions, because they're mine to make. And sometimes I hurt people on purpose, (a thing not easily admitted), because they hurt me first.
Right now, I feel as though I'm about to do all three.
All I can say, is I'm glad to be near my friends and family while trying to keep myself together.
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