Art puts food on your table;while your mouth still tastes like sandpaper, You shove your emotions down your throat with another gulp of "IT-IS-WHAT-IT-IS" Art is a laggard process;you are left with a question every single time to answer, "IF I WERE____"(art)
Art is the answer to every other question my mother puts my way, I do not wish to be normal, I built a sandcastle within a distant part of my memory land, I thrift shop sad memories to write about people who didn't love me, "LIKE DAISY NEVER REALLY LOVED GATSBY"
Art is a sum that l couldn't solve when l was still young;it makes me think if I'm really happy, I turn into a " PROTOTYPE OF VAN GOGH who drank yellow paint to feel gay" Art is a farewell I bid happily Unlike Mr Rochester I wouldn't utter "AND HOW DO PEOPLE PERFORM THE ART OF PARTING, JANE?TEACH ME BECAUSE I'M NOT QUITE UP TO IT"
Art is a red light that beeps thousand times a day while I hit my edge, "ONE STEP FORWARD, FOUR BEHIND is what I believe in" Like Theodore Finch would say, "I AM IN PIECES "(too).
Art is a cold cut of meat that comes handy whenever you're hungry;its versatile it drives you into the deeper folds of your mind, "THAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW EXISTED" Art is another name of adjustment;,you use " I CAN instead of " I'M TIRED "for no particular purpose"
Art is a madhouse;it makes believe " WE'RE PRETTY BIZARRE ANYWAY" Art is a brothel;"NAKED BODIES hide lesser truth than a NAKED MIND." Art is the answer to every "IF I WERE__" question that ever comes to your mind,