ink sans!

(Hello! Have a great morning/day/evening, good luck)

You were an artist, you loved painting, drawing, and painting, but you had few ideas and no motivation. When you drew something, you were lazy and often abandoned it when starting a new project, but history only repeated itself. You also considered your work disgusting and ugly, and you might even ruin or throw away some. You lost the desire to draw and be an artist; nothing inspired or motivated you anymore.

You were walking through the park one day, and you saw it as "gloomy" and colorless. Tired from the long walk, you sat down on a bench, pulled out a notebook and pencil, and started drawing something. But the same story. You didn't like your drawing, so you tore the page out of the notebook and threw it on the floor, clutching your head in your hands. You stared at the ground, emotionless and depressed.

Ink was walking past you in the park. He was happily strolling through the park, striding boldly along the asphalt, but as he passed you, he noticed you and your expression, which didn't look happy. He wanted to know what was wrong and offer his support. He sat down on the bench next to you, and at his feet lay the sheet of paper from your notebook you had long ago discarded.