fuck... I always want to draw while I'm walking. I always have these revelations when I'm walking... not about a particular image, but a feeling. But then it feels anti-climactic when I get home. Maybe I'll strap an easel to my chest... heh.
I feel artificial right now. Hollow. Like the me that I'm seeing contains no me. Although the part of me perceiving this feels real. I'm going to guess that doesn't make sense to anyone, but that's fine. That's part of my problem. I give too much of a shit about everyone to release that shell. I guess that's me too, and I'm glad... I guess... it's hard to tell sometimes. Sometimes I just want to strip all of that away and disappear. I feel like that is the only place I will find the other part of myself... the part that sees the shell.
I can't even do it now... when I'm so conscious of it. this may be cause for pen and paper... away from others.
I feel artificial right now. Hollow. Like the me that I'm seeing contains no me. Although the part of me perceiving this feels real. I'm going to guess that doesn't make sense to anyone, but that's fine. That's part of my problem. I give too much of a shit about everyone to release that shell. I guess that's me too, and I'm glad... I guess... it's hard to tell sometimes. Sometimes I just want to strip all of that away and disappear. I feel like that is the only place I will find the other part of myself... the part that sees the shell.
I can't even do it now... when I'm so conscious of it. this may be cause for pen and paper... away from others.
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I find that stripping away that outer shell and walking down the street with nothing but an easel strapped to my chest really helps.