Tuesday, December 31, 2013


2013 in one vague post:

I was once devastated. I still am, sometimes, but it's not just the devastation now. There are other things, like the heaviness lessened and the routine drifting to art induced deadpan euphoria. And the unfamiliar fatigue in the jaws.

I am not a marionette of wood anymore. Or so I'd like to think. (It's a good pun for my name too, and I'm not good with jokes.) Sometimes, it still aches to remember how I just took in everything and never had the fucking guts to do what I wanted to do. It feels so terrible when you're doing something and you're not really good at it even though your trying really hard, you lose so much self esteem, you question yourself if you're really a smart person, you wonder how existence and non existence can be so similar. Then everything goes down. 

But I quit dentistry school, and I have never been fine. Even if I stayed, I'd be a terrible dentist or I'd be dead. It's either of the two.

Aside from the glorious feeling of liberation, there's always things i'm scared of, i.e. failure in what I have chosen to be. But fear is normal, I think. When you grew up in a house and have never stepped out of the door your whole life, once you go out as far as your front porch, you'll feel free and then you'll get scared. and it's a choice between coming back in the house or walking further to the unfamiliar. And I'm not gonna go back inside, hell, I'm gonna run like mad, the good kind of mad.

Corvus Mortis (1/3) Dec 3, two man show with P / Work in progress - FloraFaunaMachina series / Eddie Vedder, my love

Although, sometimes, it ticks me off when people keep asking me what I do now, and I tell them I drop out of school and I'm an artist (still feels weird to hear it coming from me) and I sculpt things, and then they'll express their disappointments and come the questions of whys and why nots. It's tiring and gives you the feeling of being judged naked. Sometimes when someone asks me if I have already graduated, I'll just shake my head no and make a disinterested face. Not answering is easier because not everyone will understand.
And you don't need to be understood by everyone.

I feel ecstatic that art has been kind to me even though she drives me crazy and disoriented and sometimes she comes with deadlines and lack of sleep. And that I have someone whom I can share her with. I have never felt this fulfilled and all jumpy and shit. 

P.S. The way I'm saying I'm okay so far makes me want puke.

P.P.S. Happy New Year bitches.

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