The nameless audience in my head vs Me.

Some reason I've been hyper critical of work I've done that has no intended audience. I definitely see flaws and faults someone more considerate and conscientious wouldn't write, I got sexist at one point, but I did at least try to avoid "this is what I think teenagers" sound like. My dialogue is stronger than my general prose still. I've gone back to a script I might flesh out  but the point is, I don't know why I'm questioning any decision I make when I'm not showing anyone. I can basically do whatever I like and yet I still doubt the angle I take. I definitely can't go through another publication. I literally don't give a fuck about that magazine submission, especially considering the Twitter account doesn't have a heck of a lot of followers. So it's of no consequence to be ignored by them. When I was questioning what I wanted out of the picture book, I don't even know anymore. I can put up a link at work without really advertising. I stupidly realised I could stop distributing the first copy so at least if anyone goes to the link, there's no option to buy until I can delete it.  I'm also getting mail from "companies" who can grow my follower base, which is bullshit. So I've ignored every one of them. I should be happy I'm out of the promo game, off grid, doing my own stupid shit. I haven't been so about me in ages. I feel like people would think authorship was me following my bliss. That was the shitty part. The part I like is the one I don't talk about.