Growth is Not a Linear

I am eating my feelings with a failed oat milk chocolate pudding. There's some on my face, but at least I managed to keep my white shirt clean. I can't stop thinking that I've been sabotaging myself or at least being too afraid to change. Change or personal growth doesn't magically happen when or the ways in which I want it to. The way to guide it has proven to be wanting it uncompromisingly and fearlessly maintaining awareness. I need to stop writing as if I'm talking to someone else and not my deepest most honest self. I want to change for the better. I want to be fulfilled. I want to be happy, but I'm still trying to figure out what that looks like. 

I Will Become an Artist

Dedicated, but detached;
an accurate description of my life and my art practice thus far.
I am safe in my distance and distractions.
The violence surrounding me in my early life has compelled me to be an architect of layers for the sake of safety.
I don't think I've ever truly let anyone or anything in nor fully committed to any relationship or goal.
I see depictions of passion and pain I feel incapable of.
How can one make art without true passion and true love.
How can one commit without the capacity to lose.
How can one lose without letting something in, letting the love burrow into your heart in such a way that if it leaves, the hole in its place can never be filled in the same way again.
Seeking mimicry and false idols until the soul undergoes a revolution against it, becoming something new entirely.
I want to commit to my art and shed my layers, letting the revolution begin.