it's true.
when one's love for a form of expression is in a way, made publid, it becomes much harder to continue.
it seems like your hobby, your outlet for any thoughts you have, shrivel up and die in the spotlight.
i used to draw a lot.
i never stopped, how could i?
i mean, i had so many ideas, so many things to say, so many characters to introduce.
there was no time to stop.
there was only time to act.
and i drew like crazy.
but as the years slipped on by, people liked my work, if not for the art then its content.
compliments began to be plentiful but as if in balance, the ideas began to dwindle.
i guess what i'm trying to get at is... well, i dont really have a point.
i was just agreeing with my friend.
:]
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