Cursed.

I have to find purpose to everything, which I find is a curse.

I have so many things I'd like to do, and enjoy, but usually, I'm stopped because I can't find purpose in these things. Painting. Making music. Drawing. Making clothes. Writing. Creative things. They help me, and make me feel good, but what's the purpose? My paintings end up in my closet. So does everything else I create. I have to get over this incredibly disabling idea that my creativity serves no purpose. -That my art serves no purpose. I just don't know how.

Even this blog, which I consider a creative outlet, is purposeless.

Who's gonna see it? See anything? I have this gut-wrenching reminder that I have to do something important. How? Sometimes I feel like I'm a character in a book. Close the cover, and I'm gone. No more trace. What can I do to change that?

I wanna write songs. Who's going to hear them?

I'm stuck in this hole.

It's boredom because I can't find purpose in anything creative. That's horrifying.

I wonder what happened to me.