Let's all just chill...

Our inner children loved each other, a love so pure. But we grew up dirty and fast and apart

My point being, I feel fuckin old right now! And I’m only 23. See I can put only in front of the number but every year it seems more and more like a stretch. “Only 50” doesn’t sound very young, even with the only there. This kind of existential dread, you just wake up with it. It creeps into your day to day conversations and makes you toxic. I hate it.

I feel like I’ve been really neglecting myself as an artist and I’ve built bad habits of procrastination and I’m not doing anything to break them (I am kinda trying but not that hard). I feel like I’ve put art in the back closet. Which, seems alright. It seems smart. But that’s what makes me worried. Like my art muscle will atrophy completely if I don’t start using it soon. But I know that’s at least part bullshit. I don’t know how big a part. I just can’t help but feeling like I’m wasting time and then when I get to doing something, I think of everything I could be doing and THATS when my priorities hit me. Like right when I sit down to paint is when I remember I’ve procrastinated laundry for a week, and I haven’t eaten yet, let alone brushed my teeth and taken a shower. Maybe I’m just garbage at living life. Like I never made habitual to just take care of myself. And that’s fucked. Maybe that’s partly my parents fault but goddamn I need to get into better habits for myself if I don’t want to be a bum by the time I’m 30

It’s been years now, and i feel how I felt with you about someone new.

Did the tumblr icon get darker or am I just depressed again?