oh fiddlesticks. :/


i keep having wonderful posts planned out to do but i never really do manage to get around to them!


i suppose i'll just have to accept this is the way I am.


ah well.







someone wise once said:

Your art suffers
when you don't.

and I thought: that's true.
and I thought: so...now what?


be wise
have quality
have the chance to own a lyrical soul and be both kind and cruel by invading others' hearts without asking but with 'felt emotion,
and suffer
oh ache






OR




live on the other side of the gun
which is no gun at all
which is happiness
which is life
which is joy
which is the reason we're here











which also explains why my teacher isn't an art geek
and why she has always a smile on her face and her ability to cheer me up inexplicably just by smiling.




which also explains why I am so easy to cheer up
because i am an artist
and artists breathe, exhale, photosynthesize, process, analyze, embrace, sorrow.








we are the artists
we are god's army of relievers
we will take your sorrow from wherever we find it, on the ground in the sewer in your closest in your diary. we will take it without knowing who it's from (because it's so much easier to disappoint when you don't care about the receiving end), we will attempt to vent out the melancholy, we will express, or at least we will try.






we are ... what are we?
other than backpacks of sorrow, that is.



ah.

that, shakesphere my friend, is the question.





for artists are but an occupation.


and we are but human.


but while we do our vice
we do our time
our self-inflicted time
we live our time
and we help the world in it's processing, packaging, publishing of pining. pining longing wishing.








and i will slap some bones on this argument now.



We are artists.

Whatever genre, we are artists.

As long as we're in the game, whatever we feel, we are artists.

We will do your time for you, we will help you.

We will inflict this beautiful burden on ourselves and say, words, because sorrow is a mantra sorrow is a word That is a Law of Nature and we will adhere to that only one law

because that one Law is our life.

We will carry for you without asking, all your fucking sadness.



He's not heavy.
He's my our brother.















i'm not sleeping, and that hurts.
one half of the world cannot understand the other's pleasures,
I KNOW THAT.


I wish I didn't have to capitalize my I's to make myself feel supported
because I need support.



And I need you to stop telling me what you don't like.
Please.