A respectable and intellegent person once asked me what the difference is between my art and me. Is my art a reflection of myself? Or am I a reflection of my art. Or is the line blurry between myself and my art. His question left me puzzled for over two years, and tonight, inspired by the twisted thoughts in my head, I feel the need to provide an answer.

I would like to say that art is alter ego. It is like a manifestation. The rest of the world disappears when I'm in my "art phase", and everything I see and do, becomes some form of art. I seclude myself from distractions like other people and just absorb the essance of art from the things around me and mold and transform them into something of my own. I can see myself in the art that I'm proud of and I take comfort in that. My art is proof that I have a place in this world.

Ever since university started, I've really missed making art. It's like I've been shutting away my other self. It's an empty and exhausting feeling.

I'm tired of trying my best to chase after things I want that other people have, and all I'm left at the end is what I've started with. I'm tired of uncertainties, they're really not so thrilling as they used to be. I'm tired of making mistakes, and getting angry at myself over the could'ves and the would'ves. I'm tired of seeing things differently and not being able to do much about it. I want to go into an art phase again, and find a reason within myself to move forward.

But as of now I have to catch up of the many hours of sleep that I missed over the past week, jobs to apply to, summer courses to register for, an interview to prepare for, and study for 5 exams that are in my best interest to do well on.

I've no time for the girl locked away in the other room, yet I know that she's just as lonely as I am.