All my time wasted . . .

I create things now only thinking about how much of a waste it is. Isn't art supposed to make you happy? Ugh, one comment kind of killed my inner peace. Criticism sucks when you don't ask for it, especially if it's true . . . Oh well, if it's a waste, it's a waste then. I have to accept it; waste of paint, of space, of time . . . I thought I was meant to create beauty eventually? I thought I was meant for something other than an ordinary cookie cutter life. I'm starting to ponder what to do with my life again, or perhaps it's just fear. Am I wasting my time? How do I know for sure? Should I listen to others? Is my creativity all a waste? Time will tell. O, human condition. I have no patience for it tonight . . . I feel stupid, meh . . .


Poop,

Nat