I think my mind is about to explode. I have this desire, the mind and soul swallowing ache within me to draw, to do something...something large, something from withoin, something perhaps twisted in the eyes of some, but for those that can see, it's only words of another form to riddle out a story in shades of grey. Alas... I have no paper left. Ohl I have paper to doodle on, copy paper and such.. but nothing worth realy time and effort. I'm a junky unable to get my fix. Mind you, not that I actually have time to draw. By the time I have taken care of everything I'm too tired. being the only person supporting four kids (no child support) sucks. Yes, I know, I'm moaning...but I'm tired. My drawing is my only outlet. I don't drink (can't afford to) Sure, I could have pulled the 30 bucks from somewhere, but that would have taken it from one of the kids, summer tiem you know. Kids have to attend this and that, one likes to go to the skate park (at 20 bucks a pop) I swear, if his Mother or father would offer just a LITTLE support it would be a help. Even if it was only the 20 bucks a week.

But I feel trapped... caged in with no where to go. Without my drawing, without those images I have no voice. I am no one...nothing. I know I'm not some great artist, but then I never did draw for anyone but myself. I just feel so cut off from everything. No one around me can even begin to understand. Oh they look at me... they always look to make sure I'm not slipping into old habbits, but what they don't understand is...it's the drawing that keeps the demons of old sleeping.