I didnt starve for my art
but I did suffer
Not a material suffering of hunger or poverty
More of a suffering from sensibilities and sensitivities
First it was the suffering to keep my spark through school and through growing up with the parents and through my first job and my first love as they tried to take it away from me
Perhaps, most importantly, it was the suffering from the everyday madness and adulting and ZIG ZAGS and LIGHTS and SPEED AND MESSAGES AND PINGS AND THIS MACHINE ISN'T WORKING, AND THIS PAYMENT IS LATE AND NOW ONE MORE GHOSTING AND NOW THE DISHES NEED CLEANING AND NOW THE APARTMENT ISN'T CLEAN ENOUGH AND NOW THEY THINK I'M STUPID AND ***** AND LAZY AND SLOW
Nothing quite beats the suffering we inflict on ourselves
Like picking a skin from your finger, or biting your nails too much
It's the best there is.