To an artist of any form, inspiration is the blood which runs through their veins. To lose inspiration, as an artist, is to become an empty husk; devoid of the soul that carried your body. To lose inspiration, as an artist, is to lose who you are as a person.
It's a torture like no other.
One which drives you into madness. One which makes you do the insane to get back a spark. One which leaves you in physical, mental, and spiritual pain as you try to reclaim what was once flowing through your veins. One which makes could make you do the impossible.
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The Day I Became Nothing
Short StoryI was an am; however, I'm now a was. I was something, but then I became nothing. I became a nothing, so that I can give everything. For this last art piece.
