Picture Perfect

I am beyond overwhelmed and it's fucking overwhelming

I am always without enough time

Without time to myself...

It is constant... I am in the constant forward motion

Moving so quickly - too quickly to appreciate each day

So this is success? This is where all my hard work has gotten me... more work?

I sigh close to constantly because hell, I'm "making art"

But who fucking cares if I'm on to the next piece before I can even admire works past

Who fucking cares is it's mass produced and making me money

Who fucking cares?

I need an assistant - a mini me... but no one can be me and do what I do

I can't sacrifice this work - my art - my art of finding more work and more art to make

Overwhelmed and waiting...

I wish I could sit back and watch this fall into my tired lap...

But good comes to those who work and I am sure this is good

Everyone tells me it's great!

I want to marry rich so I can make art more slow...

But I want to be alone - I want to be alone.

I want love to find me and to nurture me and my art.

I want love to leave me alone for days, no(!) - weeks at a time... upon every request.

You may want me to live and breath for you... but my life is just pictures...

I'll love all your pictures...

...just lend me picture perfect days?