little girl giving up.

As I've grown up, the reality of my goals starts to sink in. Once a small girl had told everyone of her artistic dreams of her becoming an artist or an animator. soon those dreams became smaller and smaller. 

I had realized there's no artist in the world. there is no room for someone like me. then with that realization, my passion soon started to die. 

I had to focus on other things. things that will actually help me support my wellbeing. sketchbooks turned into notebooks and my pencils into a keyboard. 

the one thing that I think is terrifying about growing up is that you lose your creativity, your wonder. I can feel it slipping away with every second I don't use it. 

I feel a little hopeless. Art was my thing. Art was me. I understood it, I digested it, created it, flowed with it. if all my work was for nothing, then why did I even work?

what am I supposed to tell her? 

that all her years of studying and boasting were all wasted hours,

and now I have a talent that collects dust.

sad -HB