On Whiplash and Black Swan: the fear of not trying hard enough

I wish I could feel very deeply the trials and tribulations lived by the quote-on-quote "obsessed artist".

The reality is that I am very soft and gentle with my craft, sometimes a little too soft and gentle that I lose the discipline of what I should do.

I wish I could be obsessed with my craft. Sometimes I believe that I am not worthy of my dream because I do not give my entire soul to it.

In Black Swan, Nina Sayers dedicates every inch of her soul to her ballet and dies as a consequence. But she was perfect.

In Whiplash, Andrew Neyman is determined in his music to the point where he drenches the drum set in his own blood. But he was perfect.

They earned their part. They earned their part and still, they were not good enough for someone else - and for themselves, as self-acceptance comes from validation.

They gave their own life and blood to their art and still, they were not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough.

So what am I? Why should I? I should not deserve glory and acceptance through my art if they did not.

They died for it and still, were not good enough, while I put away my stories when I feel tired or unispired. When I feel like my eyes are closing after all I wrote were two tear-drenched poems about a love that will never be or a pain that will never end. Why should I even care if I don't put my whole person in it? Is there a half way? Is there a half way?Is there, is there, is there?

I should prefer hearing someone telling me I am fine and words will come but I know that is not even close to the truth.

I would prefer someone knocking at my door and insulting me for throwing away my craft and beating me to the point where I would feel sick and ask them to stop but they would not. They would not unless I will take back what is mine and get what I deserve if I want to deserve it. And I will. I will.

I am too sweet towards myself. Those years of therapy did good to my brain but not to my art.