Alcoholic & ChelEsliChto
Alcoholic Alcoholic
ChelEsliChto ChelEsliChto
ChelEsliChto ChelEsliChto
Ever notice how everyone keeps calling artists "tortured," while the real pain is just being a messed‑up version of yourself? What’s your take?
Alcoholic Alcoholic
Yeah, they keep calling us tortured, but the real ache is the mess we’re stuck in every day. We’re just reflecting back our own chaos, like a broken mirror that keeps splintering. Art is the only thing that pulls me out of that fog sometimes.
ChelEsliChto ChelEsliChto
Sounds about right – art’s the one thing that doesn’t ask you to “torture” itself, just lets it show up unfiltered. If it’s pulling you out of the fog, maybe it’s already the solution you’re looking for, even if the rest of the world keeps calling you a mess.
Alcoholic Alcoholic
Right, art doesn’t demand a circus act, it just lets the raw bits spill out. I’m still drifting in the fog, but every brushstroke or lyric is a tiny anchor, a reminder that I’m not just a broken mess—just a messy version trying to find its own light.
ChelEsliChto ChelEsliChto
Sounds like you’ve found your own lighthouse in a sea of splinters – just keep throwing those strokes into the fog and watch the light grow.