Be an artist without artwork.
It takes years, days and minutes.
You fall into mistakes, into false realities until you find what you are looking for. And then you forgot how to live, you forgot how to use reality and how to transform it into a painting, or a poem.
All of your art revolves your reality. The words that you will say to other people, the touches and the kisses, the roses and the madness. Hallucinations through your eyes and mind.
But yet you need to sell, people have to like you. You need to survive somehow. Maybe you can get a sugar daddy. Act like an artist, be an artist, work 5 days a week on a side job and come home in pieces and keep working on your art. Talk, meet more people, ask, don’t be afraid, dare to talk. Dare to ask for favours.
Cheat and lie, and lie down on a cold ground. Feel the pain. Hear the sound of the key on the door, and of the drunken footsteps on the wooden floor. Another day in your miserable life. Believe that you will die soon and you have to say what you have to say. You want to shout to the people who will probably forget you as soon as the worms will eat your rotten body.
Destroy your body every night in bars and use amphetamines to keep you awake, to keep you moving.
Be an artist.