Post

the world in my lifetime used to be a really beautiful, strange, occasionally cynical but always new, place. it's been difficult in the last year to feel like that world has died, replaced with nothing but a recycled version of itself. most of us sleepwalking, the few of us awake perpetually crying.

i have family members who pretty deliberately bury their head in the sand about the state of the world but the same unhappiness exists within us all. we're human, our senses let us know the air is poisoned one way or another. our perception of the world is different but neither of us are happier

i used to like the gentle balance of thinking forward as much as i look back. so many things formed the person i am today, how beautiful. i wonder what lies ahead that will make me think the same 10 years from now. i don't think forward much anymore. it's like trying to see through a thick fog.

in the end, all i have is my art and the people in my life. the former the result of years of living, an intangible expression of self that is desired by those who never lived. it will be with me 'till i die; i will never let it be silenced.