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At the moment I’m working on a few things, mostly written things, fanfics to be more specific.

I’m not really ashamed to be writing that kind of stuff; I honestly have so much fun with it. A part of me, however, wishes I could work on my original stories more, but working on them means never putting it out there into the world.

Fanfiction is simple; you have an audience of like-minded people who also love what and who you’re writing about. Original stuff, on the other hand, to me at least, has absolutely nowhere to go.

I mean, I tried, once or twice, to post one of my stories, but the reception is never the same. I’m someone motivated by validation; I’m not proud of it, and it’s honestly terrible, but I crave and need it like I need air.

Sometimes it’s like I can’t exist without the approval of others.

The more, the merrier?

And on top of that—because problems are never that simple—I’m a jealous person. I see people being successful, talented, and worst yet, being showered in compliments and praise by other people, and, well, put it simply, it makes me want to die.

I’m not really talented in anything I do, and being mediocre just doesn’t cut it.

I want to write, write, write, but my writing isn't good, and it doesn’t make money. I design, and my designs are all less than. Subpar talent and effort. I have no energy left to better myself; I’m stuck, in life and in these words.

It’s a circle.

Every button press, every night slept, every mediocre meter walked, every meaningless break taken.

Anguish mental and physical in a loop, and yet I write.

Who knows, maybe I’ll write something, a fanfic most likely; I'll post it and pray for comments. Just to feel the slightest bit of relief and maybe believe that the words I write are worth something.