Why nothing ever gets done.

My attempt at rationalization.I've been trying to write. But it's not coming. And it's driving me crazy.

Why can't I get anything out? I know what I want to say, but when it hits the page, the combination of letters just doesn't look right. A sentence is too specific. It's too limiting. It's like, by putting the words down in such a way, they have been condemned to mean that and only that.

No selection of words and phrases seems to get it right. And it's only getting worse.

I want to move you. I want to inspire you. But how can anything that has come out of this mouth, or from these fingers be enough? It isn't. Obviously. And that's the most frustrating thing I've come across so far as an artist.

Arists have a very unique power. We create worlds. We are gods - in a way - of a reality that exists in our heads. I think this is why it's so crippling to live in this one.

I can't redraw myself handsomer, or restructure your character to be less annoying. Proper bouts of courage can't manifest at just the right moment and give you the strength to say "I love you" before she leaves on a train for another city.

I just took a deep breath and choked on the air.

This has all been said before. I'm just retreading ground. So let's move on.

The feeling I want is one of divine confidence. Purpose. The idea that this is all going somewhere. People tell me "find religion". And I say "Maybe I'll look into that. What? Oh, yeah your religion sounds unique, tell me more..." and then abruptly start thinking about women, or a video game while they drone on about salvation.

I don't want Buddha, or Christ to tell me that all's going to be well. Why should I trust them any more than the lady at the bank who tells me to "believe in myself"?

It's comforting verbiage - "Have faith." "Believe" "Salvation" whatever. But it's groundless. What Jesus said (at least regarding morality) was correct. Heck, so was L. Ron Hubbard - but these forms of insurance come from other men. People who did not grow up in Ottawa. Did not draw Sonic comics. Were not heartbroken at age 14 by someone who didn't deserve the emotional damage caused by an emotionally damaged me.

The strength needs to be found from closer to the chest. Something that understands deeply, and yet still promises that things will be okay.

It's a rule of give and take. I need insurance from the things that I love - certain people, my art, my very self - before I can feel that any of this is worth doing.

But I guess what I'm saying is that this is impossible. It's a circular track to which there is no on ramp, and from which there is no off. And maybe that's a paradox artists (which by the way, are nothing more than extroverted people who enjoy crafts) have to deal with.

This is not some speech saying "look at me, I'm so deep". This is an honest to goodness call for help. A demand for an answer to the question: "Why bother".