At the end of the day we all long to be heard at least once. Look up and hope in a sense that someone is listening. We desire to be relevant, even if it is only to at least one, hoping to be understood to some degree.
We never long to be alone, we long to be understood. By any means necessary at times we find that the world captures us in a whirlpool of emotions. Never knowing what happens from day to day, but living the dream as if we were asleep.
As a natural born artist I see, and comprehend colors differently. I don’t hear music I feel music. I don’t take a picture, I visualize with out doubt. And that when I press on the shutter, you see something new each time.
More times than often, I have no clue what I am doing. And in that sense I am always correct. I know what 2+2 is. But life is never that simple. We cling to a sense of “self” because that is all we know. Falling in love is but a mere equation of adding a half to a whole, but with more frustrating means of so called arithmetic.
But I’d rather use a pencil, because if I get the problem wrong, ill erase and try to figure it out again. I’ll doodle on the page to keep my mind at ease because sometimes I just might not get it the first time. But I will keep trying, because I am not a fan of failure. I will write out the problem until 1+1=1 and believe me it will make sense at the end of it all.
