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I wish I could express how I really am, but I can’t possibly put all of the understandings and revelations I’ve come to into concise words.
I feel I have some greater knowledge of existence, life and the human condition, but what’s the point when we all amount to less than dust
The pit in my stomach is back again so often, every time I get a moment to think
Man I had all this junk I wanted to make but now I’m having to force myself just to sketch small stuff like this..
Drawing is the most unsatisfying hobby in the world, don’t pick it up I beg you