Date: September 9th 2025
Do I even exist?
If I think logically about making a public diary I always end up concluding that it doesn't make sense. If I need a diary, then why make it public? If having a private diary makes me loose interest in having one at all, then why start one in the first place?
But I don't think logic has much to do with it to be completely honest lol.
It's more that I want to feel like I actually exist, as strange as that may sound.
This whole "existing" thing has been on my mind for around a year now and it's presented itself in different parts of my life.
I don't have many people in my life at all (not necessarily out of choice, I crave community and connection) and sometimes it feels like. I'm the tree in the forest. The one that no one heard fall.
If no one knows me, or of me, do I even really exist?
The same goes for any sort of art I make. I've never been able to "make it" as an artist, or even just become popular in any way. Lately, it's been weighing me down quite a lot.
At first I wondered why I needed likes and followers so badly. Why I need the validation so badly. And if I could call myself an artist at all, since it seems like I couldn't just make art for the sake of it.
But I don't think it's necessarily about... being famous or whatever. It's more that. It feels like the things I make don't really exist? And it makes me wonder what the point of making them in the first place even is?
If I make something, post it online, and get no reaction whatsoever... then what's the difference? If I hadn't made anything at all, the result would have been the same.
I hope this is at least somewhat understandable.
It's been really hard to find the motivation to make things. Or do much at all to be honest. Because none of it seems to matter in any sort of way.
It's like... I exist in my room, and I'm able to get input from the outside world. But nothing can escape this room. Not me, or the things I make. I am relegated to my separate reality, and everything in it can matter to me, maybe. But it stops meaning anything if no one else knows it exists.
This probably sounds really dramatic, especially coming from a grown adult. But this is the best way I can explain how I've been feeling lately. And now it's all in a public diary. That someone could read, maybe. That someone could react to in some way.
.... Once I find out how to add a guest book or any way to interact with other people ^^"
I guess this is it? That's all I needed to talk about today. I don't have a solution to get over this. I don't know how to become part of the world (I tried many times over the years). I hope something I make can find an actual audience one day. Or even better, a community that I can be part of.