Creativity comes to me when I'm under pressure, when I feel that the world's against me. I'm in my element at that moment. Things that seemed so cloudy and vague suddenly become clear. I'm king of the world in those moments, of course, not literally. It's this urgency I get, where I feel that if I don't create something, I'll die. It may not sound healthy on paper, but I assure you, it has helped me tremendously. I'm ashamed to admit that there are times when I don't feel like making art. Fortunately, I remind myself that I only have one life! Art is what I live for; everything that has made me who I am is responsible for this outcome. I am a flawed man, such is my art. If I made a perfect piece of art, then I would quit instantly. I realize that the journey is far greater than the destination. Those late nights perfecting linework, to blend colors! It all spurs my mind to life! Of course, life experience plays a big role in making art. I like drawing roughly, with flurries of lines across the page; going over those chaotic lines with darker tones, making sense of the madness I've created. It reflects the instability of my life, my mortality issues. I'm no professional, however. My artworks are nowhere near where I need them to be. Maybe that's my sense of self-loathing coming through, or some inferiority complex I have. Either way, I know I have a long road ahead of me. One filled with hardships and turmoil. And, I know that, in the times to come, I may not be able to create art anymore. Something tragic could happen at any moment. My sincerest condolences to your daughter, as I share the same passion she did. I will continue making art no matter what, as I never know when my dreams could perish. Until that fateful day, I will pour everything into my art. My artworks are imperfect, as I am. They are dirty, ugly things. But I love them, as I love myself. My art reflects everything that I am and will become. You can't create something without putting a little bit of yourself into it. I know I'm not the best person, therefore my art is not the best. They are the same, my canvas and I. One cannot exist without the other. My pursuit of art will continue at Allegheny College, to create something of myself. I know it will be hard financially, physically, and mentally, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Reward cannot come without risk! Thank you for reading.

I've thought about murdering myself before. It's not uncommon for people my age. At least, that's what I tell myself. I haven't looked too much into my mental health, honestly. I think I might be afraid of what I'll find. Even so, these thoughts have, of course, affected me as a person. And, not really in the best ways. As early as middle school, I've taken part in suicidal ideation. It wasn't so much wanting to die, but to stop existing. You could argue they're one and the same. These thoughts became more extreme as I went into high school. Often I would leave social gatherings because I felt that I didn't belong. In my haze of self-loathing, my grades faltered. I truly believed I was less than human at that time. Like a cockroach or something like that. Reminiscent of Metamorphosis by Kafka. I cried many a night, pondering my existence. Religion was not a facet in my life, hence I believed that there was no meaning in my actions. My life was a downward spiral, no doubt about that. Before my high school graduation, I broke down. I had, what I think was, an existential crisis. Around the time I was reading a lot of philosophy, to try and understand my position. It was too much, my mind couldn't handle it. And so, due to my state of mind, I was in some sort of limbo. After graduation I barely went outside. I didn't find joy in what I once liked. I didn't have any friends, insecurity caused me to abandon them. This went on for about a year. Now, I know what you're thinking: "Does this story have a happy ending?". Kinda, just let me explain. The only light in my life during this time was art. It was the light at the end of a dark tunnel. You could say it was my only friend. This didn't stop my bad thoughts, but it sure took my mind off of them. I realized that art was my true calling. That I'd been blessed with a reason to live. An honest-to-God reason. I even applied to college, which is why I'm writing this. Overall, I've had my ups and downs of mental health. Some fits of depression and mania. But, I wouldn't trade it for the world. My experiences have shaped who I am today. I would have never found my passion if not for what I've been through. I know, deep in my bones, that someone is looking out for me. Peace and love to all.