#4

for the past month I've shit blood. it hurts like hell. I've never experienced this ever. theres definitely something wrong. time to change something up. I think i'll runaway, like I do with all my problems. I just keep running and avoiding death. but I've accepted it. most people I talk to ends up in a therapy session. I talk about myself until I solve my own problems. yesterday I talked to my aunt. she asked me what my plan was. I never had a plan, and that's the problem. I just go. I don't think I just do it. when I create anything, I never have a plan. I build layers on layers and scribble away the beauty marks till I've completely destroyed the image I rendered for the past hour. it comes full circle in that it shows my self destructive behavior. I read some quote the other day something like 'the wage of oneself cost more than that of a family.' something like that. yes, it's true. there's a heavy price to pay when you are dealing with yourself and no one else. I still don't have a plan but I have some ideas. another thing I've come to realize is that I become the laziest little shit when i'm comfortable. 'idle hands is the devils workshop,' is definitely shown to be true. I jack off way too much and snack on shitty foods. maybe that's the cause for the blood. maybe stress. maybe i'm dying. it hurts just sitting down on a wooden stool. my laptop just broke. I thought about smashing it into pieces and glueing it into a masterpiece on a painting. I've realized that there is no balance. this idea of living in "balance" is an illusion. you choose a side. you luke skywalker that shit or go darth vader. I see my life like a starwars movie. i'm always moving a light speed. I never sleep. I was raised with all that is good but have gone astray like little anikin skywalker. master yoda comes and goes when I encounter truths that touch what's left of my soul. this next month is going to be another crossroads. I told my aunt that if I weren't a degenerate I would be a pastor. there's no balance. all or nothing. as much as a feel things are at there lows, I always make it out. ALWAYS. ive accepted death a long time ago. everyone dies, just a matter of when. I was ready to die when I got back from hitchhiking across Canada. I achieved my childhood dream of traveling the world. when I got home I got depressed as shit. it was back to the routine. I HATE ROUTINE. I've never kept a job longer then 6 months. I've worked over a dozen jobs in the last 3 years. I make my money and bounce. that's why I refuse to take the jobs my family offers me. I know i'll disappoint them. so I go scrub some dishes or fly to new York and babysit kids. theres no balance. money should be used for two things, food and travel. fuck everything else. I could've fell for the trap of college but I dropped that shit. now i'm debt free and don't owe anyone shit. I make my own money and pave my own way. it's selfish, but I already know that. remember no balance. I've made my best works of art since moving to the foothills of California. but i'm over it now. I might just burn them all. selling art is such a joke. no body wants to pay for art. they all want it for free. you can download anything for free, why would anybody want to pay for your art anyways? if your reading this, I need money. not a lot, but just enough to get to the next location. if I die in the next year or 2 I guarantee the value will go up. then you can sell it for quadruple what you paid for and be rich. but it's a gamble with me. you make the call. anways, that was my sells pitch. if you don't it, that's cool too. just leave me alone then. I take most things lightly, except when it comes to my craft and work. I go all in. that's the other thing. people can judge you, and they will ALWAYS judge you, but they can't judge how hard you worked. I might go to Australia. I heard the women there love American accents. if I had a plan it would be to marry an international girl and get the fufck out of America. once you see the other side, this place is a joke. but I still love it, you get hooked. the rat race is a real adrenaline rush till you "made it." I might just hitchhike around and sell drawings. I always enjoy meeting people and taking on a new epic. that's when I feel best. I work best when i'm struggling. when I haven't showered for a week and have nothing but a bag of peanuts. but then something drastic happens, it always does. I've learned to trust that part of the universe/god/allah/etc. break on through to the other side. I've noticed most people don't know shit about art. check out some gamebreakers and simply read their wiki's: andy Warhol, jean michelle basquiat, keith haring, david choe, Damien hirst, Picasso, mattisse, rembrant, gustav klimt(one of my favorites), egon schille, Jackson Pollock, there's millions, im running blank. these are a few that have inspired me. but if there's anything that I've noticed, the best and greatest art comes from suffering. you have to be destructive. and maybe that's the problem. I keep chasing that part of me. I've fallen deeper into the rabbit hole. but i'm still ok. I always make it out. I getting all sappy and weird now. fuck the feelings, just get back to work. I don't have a plan but I hope these shits stop ripping my asshole open. im leaving...