It's late at night at the end of a day I set aside for rest, and boredom turned its sights inwards to latch onto whatever the insecurity of choice might be.

Tonight's is my long-standing fear that folks don't identify with where I've gone with my art, and it's no longer as much of a source of wish-fulfilment for them as it used to be.

I can't deny that sexual gratification is still the main goal of what I do, and it's fine if that's mostly what folks get out of it; but there's a lot of myself that goes into what I make and how I do it. I've felt a lot like that aspect of it no longer resonates with, or has outright alienated some of my audience.

For as long as I can remember, a major part of what I do has been motivated by providing folks with a source of escapism and self-fulfilment via the fantasies in my art. Over the past couple of years I've wanted to shift the focus more towards stories I'd like to tell by way of the characters I've made and the worlds they weave around themselves; however, I wonder if it's a bit too much to ask of most folks to follow along with the stories mostly implied by the art I share - that it could be just a little impenetrable and harder to get invested in now.

It's a scary prospect that my own choices might have undermined people's interest in and the self-fulfilment they glean from what I make. It's also not something that can be easily quantified or helped either way. I'm still gonna keep striving for what I find most satisfying to make, and I hope I continue being lucky enough to have an audience who enjoys it enough to keep me afloat while I do it.

I think I prefer being overly aware of myself as opposed to lacking the ability of self-reflection, but today was meant to be a day off. Would be nice if my self-doubt didn't creep in so consistently whenever I've been disciplined enough to give myself time to relax, is all.