Today I existed.”
I’m tired of being scared, nervous, distant. It gets old pretty fast. And I’ve been really impatient lately.
Funny I write all the stuff I do out here for anyone to see. I don’t know who reads it.
What if we could all crack open eachothers’ diaries to read.. Yea, maybe there are secrets worth keeping- but I can’t say I have any. They all tend to bubble up to the surface anyway, like some volcanic landscape.
Anyway, what I wanted to write here is a consolation to myself, and to the artist:
If it has come from your heart, it’s a certain kind of purity; never allow yourself to be embarrassed of it. We’re socialized to belittle or hide it all. Stop it.
Artist! Person! Whatever you decide to act upon, create, express- if it comes from love (the unselfish, positive, expansive kind),
it can’t be bad, it can’t be wrong.
I break down sometimes thinking, “all the love in the world can never be enough, can never alter this reality, can never change this; or what has happened, or is to happen..”
Some things won’t ever be alright. But here it is..
My own and very best truths echo from the most mysterious core of a thing that keeps me alive.. The ways I’m drawn to beauty as if it were a vortex.. Moved by a progression of chords.. Happy, however momentarily, by simply being here.
A few of my greatest purposes:
-remind people to stop and smell the roses
-long term exposure to starlight
-expressing myself alongside this whole trajectory