The inner world of an artist is not for everyone. Only trusted people gain access to the wellspring of infinite imagination housed within their chaotic mind...

I hate everything I do. I don't hate myself - at least, I don't think so. But I'm extremely self-critical, down to my very core.

I'm not good enough. I never have been. I never create anything without mistakes. My own mother used to say that I'm not really me if I don't make a mistake.

Yet I trust people. I genuinely believe they like what I do. I want to believe it. And every little kind word said about my work always warms my heart, or cools me down when I'm burnt out (did you get it, hah?? hehe).

I want to express my feelings through drawings. I want to express them through singing, poetry, dancing, through anything, as long as people understand what I'm trying to convey. I have a vast imagination, and I want people to know that. I truly crave recognition.

I've been waiting for praise since I was three years old. I really enjoy drawing. But I'm afraid someone might not like it.

Yes, you can't please everyone. But how can that be? I tried so hard. Yet people will still find flaws, won't they?

Maybe I'm just overthinking it.

Am I good enough.

I don't really want to be popular. I just want someone to know for sure that somewhere here lives a girl, Aysu, she's cool and she likes berrycookie and can't cook.