The Inner Monologue of an Artist

Art shouldn't be limited by anything more than the vastness of your imagination.

Often times, it wasn't the big things that cried out in my mind.  No. The demons were more subtle than that.  Creeping around every joyful moment.  Waiting to strike.
There must be a way to fight these monstrosities. 

• Art
• Expression
• Colors
• Motivation
• Release
• Expose
• Give
• Compose

You exist within this universe for a reason.  Don't let others extinguish your inner fire.

It was as if the morning would never come.  An infinite, all consuming night.  The sounds of night, thick in the air. Close your eyes.  You could be almost anywhere.

I'll wait for you in slumber,
no need to say my name.
One look into your eyes,
the feelings never changed.
Always open,
I've wasted away.
Visions of futures.
Almost yesterday.
Zodiac lacking,
if fate exists.
Serendipitous slacking.  

If you can hear me, does that mean I exist?

I can make sound too.  Just like the universe. Harmonious vibrations exist. We can't always hear them, but our hearts respond to something we can't quite explain.  Consciousness. 
How aware should you be?  How much knowledge will set you free?
Open on the outside,
dead somewhere deep within. 
Your merry un-utopia, and imaginary friends.


To understand an artist, you must first understand this: You'll never understand.

A rage that burns like the brightest star.

No shelter from the heat.

Guessing where you're going,

Expectations showing.

Reasons we try to ignore.

Can you comprehend?

Are you lost in your own mind?

Gravity holds us prisoner here.

Escape isn't practical.

Death.

                                                                            Cycle and repeat.