more sensitive than I’d like to admit.

my brain, my workspace

both a mess

I’m so ready to just unravel.  

Let this plane swallow me whole.  

Either way this destination is certain. 

mood

I guess

I thought after a quarter of a century things would start to make sense. But I still don’t know who I am. Maybe I’ll give it another twenty five years. 

Disappointed

But not surprised.  

It’s all about balance

I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. From the moment of creation starts decay. Nothing lasts forever. Not even me. Maybe this is what the art is for.