Alone. Afraid. Not knowing what to do.

I want to be an artist. I want to feel like one. I don´t really know how to.

Hear, watch, think.

I can't find a way to give the world back everything it gives me. It will never be enough. The world will always be bigger than me. I can't beat it at experiences. I can't beat it at lessons. I can't beat death. Someday it will all be over and it still won't be enough. I guess as an artist that's how it's supposed to be. Thinking about what it is, what it could be, what it won't be.

Talk, look and there's nothing more.

I'll never reach the end. There's no horizon in art. There's no right or wrong. Ideas. Unique, authentic, vulgar, heartbreaking ideas. Some comes from fear. For fear of what will sprout. From the fear of not being enough. From the fear of expressing something. Expressing what you think. Expressing what you feel. In a world that will always tell you that it is not enough. That everyone that express something is weak.

But I don't want to be weak. I want to be an artist.

I even may be one already.

Via: https://writerworldofwords.wordpress.com/2018/03/17/the-art-of-living/