Messy thoughts at 3AM
I have discovered songs and pictures and stories that awaken me, that plucks the strings of my soul beautifully and without skipping a beat. In intricate, dark and nebulous corridors and rapid twining passages, lyrics images words composed with heat haze dust and the colour Red. Written with smoke with ash with danger. With despondence, rebellion. Spirit. Desperation. Romance. Penned down with pieces of the Earth of the wind of the clay, something of grime and grit and at the core the center the matrix of something genuine, something unquenchable.
Is it selfish to be happy? It might just be. We are all suffering. But we are suffering together, in unison - even if we are struggling to see with all the dust and fire in our eyes.
Is it selfish to be happy? It might just be. We are all suffering. But we are suffering together, in unison - even if we are struggling to see with all the dust and fire in our eyes.