Pictures are Art Hugs

Life has been a jumble these days. It can't be explained in any other terms save one of the oldest game design principles there is: give the player too many choices and they won't be able to choose anything. So here I am, looking at what is to become of my life, full of way too many choices, most of which don't lead to anything particularly satisfying in the near future, and I'm stumped.
Things run through my mind all the time. Mostly terrifying, miserable things. They're trivial, frankly useless thoughts, but thinking them will keep me up an night, it'll keep me from being productive in the day, and it's exhausting.

I'm exhausted.

So, I just sat down and drew a picture.
I think there's nothing more satisfying than drawing a picture. Pictures are my first language; some of my best memories involve a picture somehow. When I draw a picture, I can say everything I need to say.

I pressed the pen really hard, and I blared Foreigner into my ears. Then I colored it in five times, then I looped them to make a terrifying animation gif thingy. Anyway, I want to put it here, so I can look at it when I feel tired. I'm sorry viewers, for the inevitable eyebleed that is to follow. I was nice enough to put it after the jump to spare you.

That thing might look terrifying to a lot of people, but I feel an unbelievable peace when I look at this. Drawing just helps me clear my head like nothing else can. I can just empty everything out onto the canvas. It's something more than an angry doodle, it's an impersonation of all the things I struggle with. When I look at this pulsing thing now, I can clearly feel depth, and breath, and emotion of a moment. That's where it lives now, in that little coked-up box.

There will be new things to frustrate me in the future, and I'll make another picture for them. Art hugs!