I don't mean to compare myself to some of my favourite artists, and i worry

I don't know why i’m having such trouble, it’s rather like my brain is melting, but rather curiously leaving behind my head and a sense of anxiety and confused dread, i feel as though i may not be fully over my illness, that which had afflicted me when i last emailed my teacher, but missing two classes in a row, well that simply wouldn’t do, i have finals to write, so why am i struggling, i got here, that's step one, i forgot some papers in my room but that shouldn’t be much a setback so what truly is causing this; getting to the borrow of the question should propel me into my task as well as anything else, if not better.

I have changed my music. I do not know if musical difference will change my struggles but so far as i look at it, it can’t hurt much. Music with lyrics one may believe to cause issues for typing, i think i may agree, but what of the block that comes with wanting to listen to music. My heart calls out to experimentality in art, i feel a physical tugging at some art which I can't describe but I can only one day hope to make something that affects myself as much as my favourite art does for me. I think the museum where i felt this feeling most has been the tate modern, something about the layout of the building and the awe inspiring architecture draws me into the experience in such a way to hold me in this feeling, in my most recent visits as my father worked in london i had the joy of visiting an exhibit on the “Young-Hae Chang Heavy Industries” (which is a group of artists) had videos which enraptured me. I’ve written a lot, i wonder if my ramblings in text form are inspire by Young-Hae Chang Heavy Industries in videos such as https://www.yhchang.com/WHACKED_V.html, which tell stories but in the sort of rambling manner much more akin to those told in person not via a written form, and i wonder how the writing still affects the writing i know that i myself have gone back and corrected words which felt wrong in this very paragraph which i don’t need to do because this isn’t the essay, this isn’t even an attempt at artistic expression, i wonder who i’m writing for. I deon’t need to write this i need to write the essay, but on a further note why do i decide some typos are ok, cause do not get me wrong dear reader, i see them, but those which are left are left purposefully; furthermore fuck am i on about with “ dear reader” this piece will be deleted, there will be no readers, class is all but over and yet i find myself no closer to the end of the essay :\ or even to finding out the affliction which holds me from writing which was the very goal from the start of writing this rambling, i hate editing. I am not editing rn, but like FYM a draft, like thats some bs i swear. In every school before college i would just write the essay first go, fuck a draft, i hated writing and drafting just meant more of that. But i’ve grown to like writing, even if admitting to that (very obvious) fact made me feel physically in. so one should assume i would like drafts but i do not.

If all behaviour is communication then what does my brain communicate to me with an aversion to writing drafts, is it mayhaps an aversion to allowing myself to be imperfect? I find that unlikely as I have allowed myself to to make many mistakes in this writing, so then what. Maybe it’s the idea that my imperfections are to be graded, the stack of partially done hw in my room that i couldn’t bring myself to turn in or finish may agree with that, on top of the time i cried to my roommate in fear that a teacher i looked up to would have to see said undone work even one time. Maybe i should apply more testing to the theory although idk if testing a theory based on not turning in hw would be great for my grades, welp ta ta, sleep well dadadadada...