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2007-12-27 16:31

One thing I’ve noticed recently is that I have no respect for my own art. I have no respect for my own self, much less my art.

You can’t learn without respect. You can’t bend because you’re hollowing yourself out, telling yourself “This doesn’t happen because you’re not good enough”, carving yourself from inside out wondering why the world hates you when you’re only hating yourself.

It’s not a good style.

You seriously can’t learn ANYTHING without respect for the universe, for the world around you, for the fact that you’ve got absolutely nothing when it comes to real knowledge, nothing when it comes to real emotion, nothing when it comes to real sense. You think you know yourself better than anyone else. You think you have the right to be so empty, the right to be so negative, so depressed.

I don’t think that’s true. It’s not a right to be depressed. It’s a choice, and not one we’re supposed to be proud of, because what else do we do but sit around and mope while simultaneously destroying everything we thought we held dear? We’re all learning about who we are every day: every day is a new test, a new gift, a new suffering. People who have no respect for themselves are pathetic – we go around wondering why there are so many hours in a day, which we then spend wondering why our lives are so empty as we stare at windows or at walls, or at other people as they pass us by, leave us behind.

I don’t want to be left behind.

There are too many things for me to do, too many things sensible people are asking me to realize, too much sun and warmth and fun waiting for me, if I’d only reach out.

And yes, it feels so, so cold, so empty right now. The absolute worst thing to do is curl up and be still.

Right now it feels like I’m letting go of the greatest thing I’ll ever have. That’s so, so very stupid. I’ll have to get a grip – on everything. Especially, especially myself. I’m the best thing I’ll ever have. And it’ll be the hardest thing to accept.


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