patience is a virtue

but i was never known to be virtuous

i think i have betrayed everything i have ever known
….

I want to castrate (if it is possible for a woman to be castrated) myself and destroy everything I have ever done. It IS so hollow. Nothing I have done in the last year has been overly meaningful. It’s all for technicolor technique or preserverance molding. I can’t stand this artistic conformity or what I’ve been turning into. I can’t write, can’t think, can’t be creatively extreme in any way because I am stretched so thin across so many conventions and people’s desires for me. Must I always be running away? I am so afraid right now, as if the world had coem to an end and I am at the brink, ready to fall, by my own choice, over the edge. I want to betray everything I have never loved.