It bleeds...
Blue, brown and green. One hundred and eight shades of everything. Sky high, but down low. Heart beating and no flow. Basic and simplistic, absolutely fantastic.
Where do you get these ideas?
I wish I knew how it worked.
Where do you get these ideas?
I ask myself that every day.
The unholy cliche of the dreams I've been having, the pallets I've been using, the taint that this is.
But what's the point?
I keep asking this too.
I absolutely hate it. The narrative I've created, the problems that I have, the stupidity I dwell on. I can't stand it. I wish I knew how.
It's confusing...
I know it is.
It's profuse.
I know it isn't. All I'm trying to do is save my skin by pretending I have something to do.
That's sad.
I've been thinking that too. I've been thinking a lot... When the abundance is beautiful, but it's drowning in the shadow of others. I have to ask, who is this for? Red, blue and violet, who goes and riots? I see nothing but gray, letting life live just in my imagination.
It's sad.
And when you can't see yourself, no more. When you know that everything will be gone to dust, sooner or later. It gets sadder.
But then again...
Yes? I'm listening.
Do you know what makes sense? The fact that you can still do it, a brush, a sketch, combined with all that pain, it goes a long way.
A brush, a sketch, combined with all that pain, you die, there's nothing, there's nobody... The long way that it goes, doesn't make sense. When after you're gone, there's no one left to ask you a why or how.
But pink, yellow and a little bit mellow, is what it’s about.
In a way, maybe. But when you have a rainbow, why would you go for something that's far below? While you can create wonders with just white, black, yellow and brown, why just limit yourself to what you have?
You forget the pink, red, and all the shades to come.
Yes, but I am none of them. I am me, and I don't want to be less.
That's pretentious, arrogant and stupid.
Then so be it, when it's all said and done, we're going where there are no shades, no brushes or sketches to be drawn. If I could change it, I would, but it's not that simple.
"What was I doing? I spaced out there... What was I doing?"
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