I Don't Paint

Everyone is retarded in certain ways.
And I don't paint, I cant.

It's not about "don't be humble, it can't be that bad" or "everyone can paint, just look at the pictures and follow".
I just... can't...

I would look at any pictures, any objects,
imagining to have this tenuous relationship with it,
and I would pick up my pencil.

I could feel it, I could feel the energy that comes through creating with my hands,
the urge to discover,
the urge to capture,
the urge to create,
the urge to convey,
that I could express so much by starting to leave lines, colors and shades on the paper.

But...
it got stuck, the energy would just not be released,
it all got stuck at my wrist.

I do no have the ability to wisely twist my wrist to know where to place the first dot;
I do not have the ability to artistically flex and extend my fingers to make sensible connections between inks;
I do not have the ability to... make any sense out of this...

Frustratingly, tonnes and tonnes of images would play and play and replay in my head;
All the flawless images that could help to better express my flattened emotions, would only be obsessively painted in my head.
I, can never get it out.

I am retarded, that I can't paint.
I do not have the privilege to connect with people through this gestural doing of art.