(no subject)
Another picture I took awhile ago and decided to play around with recently.
I think I can feel myself just... losing it, really. And I think there's so much irony right now. Like... I love to create. I try to make beautiful things with everything I have available to me. But I don't really change myself. I can't really manipulate myself or make myself seem more beautiful, or rewrite things that have happened if they're too dramatic or depressing or don't fit. Existence is pure improvisation. There's not a chance to revise anything. But that's a little irrelevant, because what I meant to say is, I'm still sort of wretched no matter what I do change.