I think that ‘without hope’ needs words. Images and gifs are all very well and good, but only to a certain extent. And so I will write! I’m not sure even as I’m writing this, what I want to say or indeed what I need to say, I haven’t slept in a long time; continuously seeing the sun rise and fall has probably caused me to fall into some sort of delirium. The birds outside are screaming whilst I listen to; Ain’t no use by Nina Simone. my eyes are sore and dry from the glare of my laptop screen whilst I endlessly weave image, text and hand rendered illustrations on Photoshop and illustrator for university deadlines. I often wonder whether there is any use in such a existential self destruction of my body and mind, I know that my lecturers are impossible to please and viciously critical of anything and everything produced by their students.. so what’s the point? I’ll have a degree, maybe. But What will happen to my creative confidence? it’s taken a massive beating in the last year.
It makes me think, do I really know what I’m getting myself into? a life in design! It sound like an amazing life to lead (if your successful!) but even those who do achieve, even a mediocre amount of success seem fatigued; drained of most of their youthful creativity and prone to passive aggressive remarks about how they are over worked and under appreciated.
I for one would love to keep my soul, yet I need a career and for the most part; design has been my strength. So it seems that this is the end of the line, the time for choices and decisions has all but passed and I have to just deal with it.
Maybe tomorrow (today) will shed some new light and inspiration on my current predicaments. It’s a shame that the first real post was on a slightly disheartened note, the blog may be called Without Hope; but not everything will be hopeless within.
I feel sad when your with me, and hollow when your not. When you try to make me laugh, I start to cry. When you shout at me and scream, I feel alive in some way, yet heartbroken at the same time.
I’m constantly sinking, it’s as though I can no longer bear the weight of my own body; my thoughts, dreams and fears seem also to weigh down heavily upon me, on my chest; suppressing the shallow breaths that are only barely sustaining me.
I’ve become accustomed to panic attacks, my body seems to be fighting me as though I’m some malignant disease. the pain I feel is a trinity, heart, body and soul. My mind exited probably some time ago. I can’t carry on like this, I wish one of us never existed, and the terrifying thing is; I have absolutely no idea who it’d be if I had the choice.