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there is no good way to begin an essay like this one. there is no good way to begin anything really, there is just a small (or sometimes, very large) bundle of feelings in someones' gut and they vomit up all of these thoughts and feelings and write about them on their blog or in their diary or on a wall in spray paint somewhere. i did not have a wall, any money for spray paint, or a diary. but i do have a blog. so here it is.
I don't want to feel like everything i do is less than valuable. i don't like feeling that my tiny speck of a life on this earth is trivial and banal and stupid and hollow. i want to make art and take photos and i have all these great ideas in my head and visions and words to say in meter but i don't know how. i want someone to brush my hair and braid it into cornrows even though it's much too short and there would be little pieces sticking out everywhere. i want that person to make art too, and read and eat junk food without feeling bad after and see their breath inside a tent on a fall morning. i miss feeling young. i feel so old and decrepit already and i'm only seventeen. i feel like my soul has aged so much faster than my body; that if i were to peel away my soft curves and full head of hair i'd be frail and riddled with spider veins. where has my youth gone? i think i lost it somewhere between my first diet and the last Nancy Drew novella. wait, no, fuck no, Nancy Drew are novels, they are dignified and right.
 i want to make art and make other people feel things.
i want someone to look at my photographs, and feel the same things i felt when i first saw Gustav Klimt's, The Kiss. that would make me valuable. that would make me happy. that would make my hair grow faster and back ache less when i'm on my period. i want someone to appreciate me. i want to be a virgin again. i want to get drunk and tell someone i love them and start crying in their arms. i want my best friend to call me up sometime, so i don't have to. i don't want to be in love. i want validity. i crave happiness and fulfillment and honesty. i want to live in a city with no money and only a jar of mustard and celery in the fridge. i miss the time where i was more than "what college will you be attending?" and "really... art as a major?". art is invaluable. people are invaluable.
i think artists are the most honest people, they paint and capture reality as they see it. everyone else just walks around and assumes that what they perceive is correct and just and true. i feel like being an artist i have a big responsibility to say something with my art. sometimes art is just... art. sometimes its meaningless and hollow like a lot of people in this world. and thats okay, i think, because if everything were heavy and large and round they'd be hard to swallow and lots of people would choke and die on their own self enlightenment. i think that's very much a reality for a lot of people. i very much believe that i am one of those people.