My shrink suggested I write a blog…

I’m worried it will expose too much.

I’ve survived thus far by living so far under a rock that no one notices me.  I don’t know what’s kept me there…

But I don’t want to be there anymore.  I want to breathe fresh air.  I want to run and jump and dance and I don’t want anyone around to see it. 

Where can I do that?

Maybe in paintings and stories.  Maybe there I can be me.  Little me who has so much to say, but I’ve been waiting so long for my turn to say it that I’ve nearly forgotten what it was I wanted to say.  

It’s that I’ll be something.  Something to remember.  To many people.  I will leave a mark.  

I’m just not sure how… And the pendulum swings so far to either side of reality, of sane judgement. 

It’s good when I like my art, when I feel that someone might look upon one of my drawings at some time in the future, and still feel an emotional connection to the artist that painted it.  

To imagine that I’d have any positive effect on anyone outside of my personal circle is a dream.  Hell, I’m honestly worried that I’ll just scar them…

Ahh, but as my shrink says, I need to contain that massive ego of mine, it’s so worried about been seen and not liked.  Who gives a fuck, right?  Sigh… 

Time to hit post and make some tags and listen to some sad music 💜 

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