Victor's poem is a string of small, quiet questions, each one about a private habit: listening to music, drawing or painting, spending time alone to think. None of these is dramatic. That's what makes the poem feel honest. The speaker isn't describing a crisis, just the ordinary things that seem to keep them steady.
The most telling moment is the correction in the second line: "not want." The speaker moves from wanting music to needing it, which suggests these activities are closer to a lifeline than a hobby. Drawing brings "relief," and being alone makes them "happier," so they seem to use these things to recover or breathe.
The final lines, "does anyone feel these things? / or is it just me," carry the poem's real feeling: loneliness, and a hope to be understood. The mood is vulnerable and tentative, like someone speaking softly to see whether anyone answers.