We have very literate conversations about Hemingway and Bukowski and tell ourselves that we're living for the sake of art and that this is why we can be drunk and high all the time. But the reality is that we'll never be great artists, never write those novels that are discussed in high school classrooms and seem to tilt the world on its axis when
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pessimist!!
...or maybe realist
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I guess what I'm thinking is that personally, as an artist, I notice all these other mediocre artists around me and try to comfort myself by thinking that I'm worth a little more. When really, I'm a terrible person and a hypocrite to do that. It seems like all these emo-heads are taking over the planet with their tears... when in fact, I'm sure all artists have felt that way in their respective eras.
I just pray this doesn't turn out to be "The Age of Emo" or anything... in that case, count me in the gutter category.
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FUCK EMO
what ever happened to the sanctity of sanity?
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