Tonight I feel unaccomplished. Incomplete. Unfulfilled. A failure. I’ve tried so many ways over so many years to artistically put myself out there, and have flirted with “the real thing” so many times. What if I’ve been following the wrong artistic path? Or what if I’ve been following the right one the wrong way? There are so many things I understand. So many things I can do. But no matter where I am or who I’m with, I feel like I don’t belong. Like I should always be somewhere else, DOING something else. I guess that’s my blessing and my curse. Always have the drive, but never know how to execute it. A paradox, I am. One that will either die trying or just give up and die. Been flirting with death for 29 years and it keeps flirting back. But it won’t let me take it’s top off. Fucking tease.
