Something I know that holds me back is the feeling that everything I write has to Mean Something. Like I can’t figure out what Real Art is and I’m just wasting my time doing this. I’m having that feeling now more than ever.
At the time of writing we are witnessing an actual genocide. I keep writing and then stopping like, “man, what am I fucking doing here”. Even on Twitter– sorry X, even on TikTok, every post Means Something. People are spreading awareness and educating, they’re satirizing, they’re keeping news up to date and calling out misinformation, they’re signal boosting. And what am I doing? “Dear twitter mutuals, today I’m posting another picture of my cat.” That’s not helping anyone.
More and more I sit down to write or draw or play a game and then I remember all the suffering in the world, and how we’ve only got a decade or so left before climate change is irreversible, and how when I was mindlessly scrolling twitter and/or tumblr earlier I scrolled past like 3-6 posts of people begging for money. They’re gonna lose housing, they don’t have money for groceries this week, they’re opening emergency commissions because they’re dying and can’t afford medicine. And I just scrolled past that because what can I do??
So then I go “man, what am I fucking doing here.” Why am I writing fanfic? I should be working on something that Means Something. Why am I bothering with drawing/pixel art? It’s not like I’ll ever be good enough at it to Say Something. Even if I’m never going to Say Something, why am I wasting my time doing all this frivolous shit? I could at least be doing commissions so that I can give the money to people that actually need it.
I used to play piano and I loved it! I was really good at it and I practiced all the time, but then one day I just kinda. Stopped. Family members started talking about how good I was, how I should definitely start a youtube channel doing covers, how I’ll definitely be able to get a job playing at this place or that place, and I stopped. I haven’t played in years, my keyboard is coated in a thick layer of dust, I have failed to Say Something, to Do Something. That’s the whole fuckin point of music, right? And I got scared and overwhelmed and gave up.
My mom keeps talking about how I’m honing my writing skills via fanfic. I’ve known for years I don’t have a novel in me, let alone a best seller. Sometimes I feel like I need to quit it, that I’m just playing at writer like some little kid and I need to grow up already. I need to develop a marketable skill because art’s sure as fuck not the way for me.
I don’t know where I’m going with all this.
10/23/2023