The very nature of value.

I am often tired of my circumstances. I feel if I am an artist my masterpiece is being carved by smashing my head against a marble slab. This self destructive compulsion is never fulfilled, there is only more scars. That is how I feel most days… but I have learned a lot about some basic truths. Though most of them are painful or at the very least were painful. Like maybe quitting is the right choice sometimes. I have tried my hand at painting, sculpting and game design. I have written poems, novellas and paint toy soldiers. I have attempted this with the ideas that most systems and disciplines are related to each other. Yet, the only things I show a natural talent for are not playing guitar, or writing songs… it is writing and painting toy solders. I don’t know why that is except the internal commentary inside my brain is chipping away at my self trying to find what is (if anything) eternal. What am I? A spectator in something greater’s reality. What is mine? What ever is put in front…