I wrote in a little notebook that I won’t let myself write because deep down I don’t believe it’s worthwhile. I accepted that and wrote a list of things to do, little things I am supposed to do somewhere down the line. And then I got up and did them. Three hours later I feel great. Weirdly great. Like I took an antidepressant or did a line of cocaine.
Maybe I should just accept that I’m a practical person instead of trying to make myself into an artist.
Anyone's Ghost 
nope, you just needed some immediate gratification, some sense of quick fulfilment and satisfaction .Art doesn’t give you that – you slog your heart out until you have nothing left to give and yet you will STILL never be satisfied with a peice of your own art.
You’re so smart. Thanks 🙂