#614 Dying Alone

"Sometimes, I feel like I only make art to upset my mom. Probably because she's one of the only people I talk to about my art. And honestly, I love seeing her get sad because of my art; the whole point is to provoke emotions. But I also hate knowing my art hurt her. I know she's hurt because of the reality of what I've decided to portray, not because of me, but still, I'd rather see her happy. Regardless, a family member recently became terminally ill, which inspired this piece. We're no longer in contact, so I'll probably never see them again. They seemed to have become quite delusional the last time I saw them, and I didn't have much of a relationship anyway, so their passing doesn't hurt. Frankly, they're not important enough for a painting dedicated to their passing. But it made me think about myself. Making friends is easy, but I never want to do anything with those friends. After a while, they all learn not to invite me, as I won't attend anyway. It's not that I don't like them. Some of them are very cool people. The others are nice enough. But for some reason, I prefer to be alone. However, I can't help but be afraid of the future. There's a good chance that I will die alone, and I'm not sure if I'm going to regret those decisions. So sorry, Mom. I know it's not too late to change, but I'd rather be alone."