And it was a very bad year in terms of drawing, I no longer know what is happening to me. Now I hate literally everything about my style. I don’t feel like I’ve gotten any better at drawing over the past year and a half. I feel bad that my arts from 2019 look better and livelier than the current ones. This is some kind of shame. The whole of 2021 is 70% aggressive, and I’m afraid this mood will continue next year, until something really explosive happens, Idk.
I’m tired. So tired. And it makes me sad.
Now, like no one else, I’m waiting for the beginning of January, which will give me serotonin and the illusion of a blank slate. I have a lot of things planned, and I hope that postponed life syndrome will not prevent me from realizing at least a little bit
