the cost of dream

The day approaches the night the same way as it did yesterday. Should I act likewise? Should I replace the awe towards the wondrous aroma of life with the trader's insights? Should I shift from joy to paint to the wisdom of self promotion?
I understand that such way could bring me some earnings, and the received money could enable me to purchase the desirable things I desperately  need today, but I do not wish to spot my canvases - I do not wish to lose self-respect (do not wish to become the liar) : I am not the creator of  the light but only its admirer.
I think the above picture portrays my emotions well enough, talks eloquently. Yet how to put such 'art' into the simple words? What do I do? Am I promoting the faithfulness (witness the spirituality), or just hide personal inability of the disabler to do provide for myself under the mask of the philosophy of the fine arts?
I surrendered hope to take a good camera one day  and became ashamed of myself - is that the cost of dream?
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