Thoughts

9/17/25

It is of the utmost importance that a writer is impeccable with her word. Writing is a source of magic. It has the ability to implement new ideas into a reader’s philosophy. It is not a desire that I have to write, it is a necessity. I spent most of my existence at war with myself, before realizing that I have a very important story to tell. I’ll write a book on it one day, “The Self Diagnosed Orphan” has a nice ring to it. 

For now, in bits and pieces here, I hope to inspire those who find themselves in a similar situation to me – an artist who struggles to make art. The very thing that I love to do, I love to deprive myself of it. To tell myself I can’t do it, that I’m not good enough. At the surface level, it looks like a fear of failure. In reality, what it really feels like, is the fear of success. I’m so scared of stepping into the light and allowing people to see the most vulnerable sides of me, which is my art. But deep down, even at my lowest of lows, I felt like I was meant to be somebody.

I had a beautifully horrific childhood. It never made sense why such bad things happened. Everything happens for a reason. Everything. I lived through the horrors and they are madly inspiring, to say the least. I never saw myself as an artist, until moving out of a home that was completely out of alignment with my true self.

Finding a sense of self, regardless of a person’s situation, is extremely difficult when we live in a time where we are constantly being told who we should be. Parents, the internet and advertisements quite literally everywhere, yell at us constantly. We live in extremely peculiar times. Volatile times. I believe I could live to see world peace, the opposite will likely come immediately prior. This generation is amazing in some of the worst and best ways. While my ego is unable to fathom that I could change the world, I do believe I could raise children who do. We all could. This is only just the beginning of humanity. Science (practically) proves this!

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9/19/25

I’m unsure of how often I’ll be updating this page. As soon as I put any sense of importance on something, I usually get scared and back off from it. A cycle I’m trying to break. I have borderline personality disorder. Consequently, I’m always analyzing other people because I feel so different from everybody else. I’m more empathetic and I hurt a lot. I hurt for everyone. I feel like, there’s a lot wrong in society that most other people don’t even see. The way that couples interact with each other, the way that parents interact with their children. Most of the time, it makes me sick. it doesn’t help that we live in a time where we are constantly robbed of our attention. It does make me feel really hopeful when I see good relationships. I can fathom that collectively, as a humanity, we are getting better. It can be hard to see that in the day to day. It’s why I isolate myself as much as I do. I haven’t seen my friends in months. As Van Gogh would say, I’m molting! This is necessary for the artist.

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10/8/2025

When does the artist get to enjoy their work? The short answer is never. But sometimes, in the melancholy minutes just before the sun rises, it feels like my work isn’t for nothing. I started a new job cutting fabric in a warehouse. I love it. I don’t have to talk to anyone very much and they don’t play music. A quiet space is hard to find in Los Angeles county. Working customer service jobs here, like I was previously, is a nightmare. Even at Joann’s where you would think customers would be sweet and nice… nope. Humanity is at a weird breaking point it seems like. Maybe if they could admit their god is dead… for another time perhaps, I just hope people start believing in themselves.