Artgirl

20// shot down

ARTGIRL 20: shot down

i find it insane that Artgirl has reached almost 4 million views even if I haven't updated in ages. Thank you infinitely. My time away has made me realize how much I love to write. Holed up studying sciences for a year has made me yearn sitting down and writing for hours, for me and for you. I realize my writing is a bit rusty, but bear with me. (Get it?) I'll be updating Artgirl every Thursday from now on, expect regular updates! And heartbreak! (Oups. Who said that?)

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"I suddenly realized it's no coincidence the two middle letters of life are if. For every action we make, there is a reaction. The outcome often beyond our control, fragile and fraught with ruinous consequences. Like a soap bubble made real by a gentle breath only to be taken by it." ― Michael Faudet, Dirty Pretty Things

Nicolas Bear Forrest

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I'd been wanting to be an architect. Architect. Archi-techt. Design buildings and make them into what I want to be.

And honestly, no one tells you how hard it'll be to achieve the grandness of that word. At first, it is an idea. A picture of yourself building for others, for the world. Designing buildings so beautiful that there would be more people writing about it than windows- and my dream building, it let sunlight in from everywhere.

What do you want to be? Doctor. Mom and Dad bought you that doctor set when you were a kid; and you felt like a superhero. You're saving a life. You don't wake up every morning for you only, it is for the people who choose to put their health, their happiness, their well-being in your capable hands. Little do they know it took you years of tears at 3 a.m., cold sweat in the exam room and holing yourself in your room on every Saturday night to get there. Teacher. Admirable. You want to fix your own teachers' mistakes, make a difference in the lives of children who are just as lost as you were, as you are. You may draw the path to a deeper understanding of your reason to wake up. Astronaut. Sigh. You'll touch the stars before you get there. Princess. You fit society's standards of beauty, you are a gem in your family's eyes. Pretty eyes and long legs, you'll be groomed to be elegant and lovely. Post pictures of yourself; sell your beauty for people's envious eyes. Be their goal before your own. Public's princess. Singer. You fit an image, a story. Find your plan B, because if this fails, you'll only have your art to wipe your tears away. but what else? What will bring you money, what is stable?

What is safe, self-fulfilling and profitable?

The answer is almost everything, if you have the right resources.

Funny enough, college made me feel like I was falling in an infinitely long hole. Suspended from reality. There is no time to figure out your place in the world, there's even less time to sleep. My insomnia was gone in the first weeks, because I valued sleep more than caring for others. It came back after my first assignments, but it was not voluntary. I strapped it to my head, ignored my health's cries and stayed up studying. Studying. Studying, over and over until my love for anything that wasn't Zoey was slowly, well-

Dying.

I hated coffee. I had drunk so much of it that I was maybe 20% sure that my blood had traces of instant-coffee in it. In the morning, it was my best friend. At night, it was my worst enemy. Fatigue got sprinkled onto coffee and the caffeine helped me make sense of things, but I could feel my mind growing tired of the endless routine.

What kept me sane was seeing her. She was a break from anything that made sense and as much as she was the fog in my brain, she helped me see the world clearly. She reminded me of dreams and hope, because that was who she was to me.