It seems as though i've currently lost inspiration for my work. Its as though nothing is of intrest to me and the things i use to be intrested in no longer catch my eye. I started a new piece of work and i'm at the point where its almost finished but as soon as i pick up my pencile my mind goes blank and i end up staring at it for hours thinking of absolutly nothing. my dad is the one who pointed out to me that i haven't drawn in a while and the things i have drawn i haven't finished. I think it has something to do with all the drama thats been going on lately. Highschool and a hope in someone miles away from here has drained me of everything. the art that use to be my life has now turned into just another subject i have to take in school. I don't understand how this happened...and i hope it changes soon.

p.s. i'm gonna submit some more deviations tonight finished or not

If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand. I hope you find out what you want. I already know what I am. And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again. And you can tell me how vile I already know that I am. I'll grow old and start acting my age. I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate. A crown of gold. A heart that's harder than stone. And it hurts a whole lot, but it's missed when it's gone. Call me a safe bet. I'm betting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive. I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget. If it makes you less sad, I'll move out of the state. You can keep to yourself. I'll keep out of your way. And if it makes you less sad, I'll take your pictures all down. Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out. It's cold as a tomb, and it's dark in your room, when I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds. So call it quits or get a grip. Say you wanted a solution. You just wanted to be missed. Call me a safe bet. I'm betting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive.
I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget... You are calm and reposed. Let your beauty unfold. Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones. Spring keeps you ever close. You are second hand smoke. You are so fragile and thin. Standing trial for your sins. Holding onto yourself the best you can. You are the smell before rain. You are the blood in my veins. Call me a safe bet. I'm betting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive. I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget...

--The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot--

-brand new-