Recently I have been fighting apathy and tiredness and although still able to illustrate stories, I haven’t written for months.
Days are very long but time seems like it is being fast forwarded. I promised I would put myself first this year, but being so drained I’m dispassionate and can’t break my way out of this perpetual state of sameness, and monotony. Sometimes I feel high, and then low and then apathetic again, but until I actually do something to make this stop, it will continue, until I’m incapable of producing anything worthwhile. I hate my life and want to get away from reality. It used to be enough, living it through my characters, but recently I need more than they’re giving.