Make It Art

I've been feeling out of sorts lately. And I've been feeling really guilty about it. Because in a lot of ways I'm doing the right things. I'm building my community. I'm making space for my creative self. I'm trying to stay in the present moment. And I've been accomplishing a lot. Writing. Getting opportunities. Staying busy. . .

and yet. . .

This must be normal. Please tell me this is normal. Because sometimes I feel like my life is just a series of self-sabotages. Something that runs through my head a lot is that I peaked so early (like in 8th grade) but also am blooming so late and so feebly. And I am simply undeserving of any positive attention.

Learning to nurture myself is a new language. It feels so awkward and shameful. But I suppose, like all languages, the only way you get better is through immersion and practice.

I like to say that I have no discipline, no ambition. Maybe I should start telling myself that I am making my own path. And when I feel stuck in a place, maybe it's because I'm afraid of what's next.

Let me remember all that I've survived to be here now. Let me put down this burden of perfection. Perfection is a mirage. There is no sustenance there.