I'd love to live in an art gallery. Among all the brilliance. I'd be in awe and dumbstruck. So then the only consequences will be the art being inferior to me and nothing else. No one will get to me. The only thing faltering me would be the brushstrokes, the mediums, the colours. Prophets would cease to exist. The art out of thin air. Walking half drunk of tiredness is weighing me down and your overcast downward looks don't help. Why are we so scared of the unknown. religions come from our deepest fears of the unknown and from then we begin tales to help distinguish the black hole that is unwillingness. Is that why we as a race are so into labels? I ponder. I'll continue that thought later. We only think these thoughts to pass time to the day we die. We do not exist for ourselves but for each other. Because in the end we are nothing. nada. zip. So we behave and seek to build onto the others who are on the same fatal trail as us. Because without others there is no you and without you there is no others. We exist for them to exist. Vice versa. But then to them they just do what they do because it's what they do; but then to others we are affected. Everything is rhetorical. everything is redundant. everything is in a circle.
I'd love to live but
are nothing in the end.
are drowning me
are making me want to seek
no it doesn't. but it passes the time.
Created: Jul 10, 2010Document Media