how do you give up on the only thing that you actually care about, though

whitewood is lying in bed on his back, thinking to himself: ''i don't feel any kind of urgency with what i make. if it happens, it happens. if not, whatever. i do sincerely believe that all people have something irreplaceable in what they create, and the same applies to me. would there be one or two people who would be sad if i never posted again? sure.'' he starts to sit up. ''i've experienced it myself. artists i really liked who i felt offered something invaluable simply vanished. i think about them sometimes and hope they are well. life goes on.'' he sits on the edge of his bed. ''the world won't miss me if i disappear, and that's okay. good, even. no one needs my art. thank god. my art is me, and i want to feel needed. but there is peace in knowing that i'm not. i don't know who i am without my art, so it's hard. but then again, i lost most of my creative drive a long time ago. not being able to tell stories anymore has left me stranded and isolated for well over a decade. i guess i needed permission to give up.'' he stops and presses his hand to his forehead. ''the really sad thing is that i can't. i can't give up. i've tried. i WANT to. do i need to believe that what i have to say is worth hearing? maybe. more importantly, i need to learn how to play with dolls again and not feel stupid for it.''


january 15, 2026

all i want to do is have ideas for things to draw that actually move me, but i guess it's not in the cards for me. i may simply have to try doing something different.

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content herein © wren white, 2026.