I am Art-phobia

Officially a year into the real world. Exactly around this time last year in Ramzan, I promised myself that I wouldn’t be a health manic, trim my social fat to suit my cerebral needs, pitchfork the obsession of keeping cellulite off from summer euro vacationing and that Mediterranean bliss was patiently waiting for my next visit.

Slam-dunk, giant slam-dunk and not the celebratory kind, I am in the last week of Ramzan possibly questioning all directions I had treaded on. Oh no, what’s this could this be back to square one. In actuality this is a cross between trying to keep my sentences from become fairy dust like and articulating the disastrous mess my artist sensibilities have gone into.

The internet is becoming this weird consistent remedy (I am trialing into nothingness) for my indecisive and possibly nonexistent artistic goals. Could this be the birth of anti-art ADD? And as much as this could be playful humor this term exists... here, sigh.