Confessions of St. Amboy

Something is bothering me tonight. I think I'm going to blame these tempestual feelings on the problems at hand. The problem with my car. The money problem. I can't come to a reasonable conclusion about my art. I can't tell if I'm unoriginal or just plain bad at it. Maybe I shouldn't put so much stress on it. I found a picture on someone's tumblr,

Vandalchicks.tumblr.com

It said "Don't try to be original, try to be good."

A similar sentiment was relayed to me a couple of years back from a friend regarding my art. He was an artist as well and showed me a lot about painting I would've taken years to learn on my own. We still talk. With a country between us, he says, Trial amd Error. I say I can't afford trial and error. I realize that the only thing I stand to lose in this process is time. Something I have an abundance of tonight.
Its a numb feeling. I have no sensation at all.
A fly has been buzzing around my room the last few hours. I wonder what the hell his point is. He just flies around in sporadic circles and criss-crosses. But maybe that's all we're doing. Who am I to say what I do all day isn't just mindless meandering through this room or that? Life has too many twists and turns. Too many rooms. Its all too complex. Please simplify the feeling.

There isn't too much to say anymore. I feel like I've driven my life into a wall and now I'm bleeding out into the street. My blood finds it's way to manhole where it joins the city's blood. But the city's blood is too rich. It is loud and intoxicating and smells of jazz and cigarettes. So they separate. Like oil and water.
Frame me up in some gallery somewhere where the little boat captains flood the rivers with posies and heartache.

I feel like I've been separated from some paternal grapevine. I feel as though my father never existed. I know he did. That isn't at all what I'm saying. What I'm saying is he feels like a television show i watched an awful lot as a child and then one day it went off the air but i didn't noticed because i was outside playing down the street.

There is a lot of great art on that website. That... Tumblr... I clicked through every picture on it in about two days on my phone. It's created by some people out in Spain or London or both and has a lot of great shots of street art, graf and beautiful girls. Peep it.

I realize there is a hard break in the atmosphere of this post. I was heavily depressed in the first part of it (this post has been written in the span of about three hours now.) One could say much of my feelings tonight are a result of not seeing the sun in about two days. I have been off of work the last two days and I felt it would be a good time to enjoy a staycation. But perhaps I'm just not that person.