Tuesday, March 2, 2010


I have no artisitc talents what so ever. I have this 30*fourty streached canvas, and all these paints, and bushes, but I can't draw shit. I tried drawing my own face from a photo, and found that my brain just can't figure out how to put lines, and shadows, and placement together. Look at the paintings I've put on my page. Any three year old could have painted them. I also have three 11by fourteen canvases, and I want to paint a self potriate of myself. So I'm practicing very hard to draw myself.

Most people I know have this ablitity to draw and paint, and play instruments, write music, write words that sound beatuiful and have meaning. Me though, me I'm a talentless hack. I'm an imitatetor, and not a very good one at that.

I'm lazy, unsocaible, unconcolable, ununderstandable, mundane, pathetic, procastinator, lier, thief, talentless hack. I've had it with myself. I gave myself until 27 to do something with my life. I wanted to live in NYC by the time I was 25, that never happened. I've visited NYC, I've never lived there. If you can make it there you can make it anywhere. I so wanted to test myself. See what I had. Did I have it in me to live in a huge city that could eat me alive, and come out unscathed. I will probably never know.

I promised myself that I would kill myself at age 27 and its here. I've been 27 for a month now. Fuck I can't kill myself at 27, that would be offensive to all the really talented people who died at 27 and now belong to the 27 club. You know who I'm talking about. Janice, Jim, Jimmy, Kurt, there is more. Those are the four big ones. I should wait until 28 so I'd be in the talentless group of suicides. People like me who should kill themselves. Not people like them that shouldn't have ODed, and or killed themselves, those people made a diffrence in the world. No matter how small in the big picture, they made a diffrence.

I'm so sick of me. I want to be someone new, someone cool. I might die my hair platnium blonde, or pitch black, maybe even blue. Changeing the outside isn't going to change the fact that I have no purpose in life. I have no reason to exist. I want climb back up that amblical nuce.


Solo Girl said...

hey cut it out. you're just fine. YOur a writer. I used to make shit, and sew, do a lot more then what i'm doing now, but i've never been REALLY good at anything.

I guess i'm pretty good at not doing shit. =]

Gledwood said...

Hang on a sec, I've got a load of art stuff and I'm going to put my own modern art on the walls.

Just remember people like Andy Warhol had dubious "talent" at best... Kandinsky just dripped paint all over the canvas.

I'm going to do my cartoon doodles giant size in acrylic. If I do enough I might go out and find an art dealer who will take them on... Why not? You gotta believe in yourself. It's not about being the Best, but about knowing you have something to offer the world.

If you really feel you can't paint, then just do a modern art abstract thing instead. That's what I'd do ;->...

Gledwood said...

O yeah and re suicide, I never wanted to live past 25. It was 35 when it really hit me I was ancient. Maybe because that is half 3 score and 10, I dunno. Anyway I'm still here, for better or worse (mostly worse, but there you go...)

AnnaGrace said...

Thanks you two, I need to belive in myself. I'm working on it. Believe me I'm working on it.

SweetThing said...

You are definately not talantless. You have a way with words that make you an awesome writer. Maybe one day you'll let more than just family read your novel. You keep me coming back to read more.

Anonymous said...

Well you'd have to get the biggest canvas they sell to put your huge ass fucking face on it. Quit crying!! 'Poor me! Poor Me' The whole 'woo is me' act is getting pretty tired. If you want to use, use! If you're sick and tired fDO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! Quit bitching and moaning, get off your fat lazy ass and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT THEN!!