and all the beautiful things that make you weep but don't have to make you weak

Whats talent? Is it something tasty?

Alice came to a fork in the road. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" responded the the Cheshire cat. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "It does not matter."

I am the constant, the invariant.

I am the darkness of your dreams.

There is nothing more fun than to paint your passion.

Trivial information is accumulating every second, preserved in all its triteness. Never fading, always accessible.

my eyes, desirous of beautiful things, and my soul, likewise, of its salvation, have no other means to rise to heaven but to gaze at all such things- michelangelo bounarroti

all people are shit bad trip tattoed on my brain

Daytime orphans join the circus.

Line the rope, and walk the wire.

There are neither any terminologies nor designated labels for these kind of things, just complex intricasies and explanations.

"Here's to Freedom

Here's to Art

Here's to Having an Excellent Adventure

And may the Stopping never Start"

-- Jason Mraz

When darkness surrounds me, I will make my own light.

Depression is not more soulful and artistic than happiness. Goth is not pretty. Life is far too short to be a cynic.

"But there comes a point in life, a moment. Where your mind outlives it's desires, it's obssions. When your habits survive your dreams, and when your loses...maybe death is a gift. You wonder." - David Gale "The Life of David Gale"

~If you're going to be original, you can count on being copied.~

"People keep telling me I should try new things. And then they look at me funny when I tell them I like Shrimp Peanutbutter Cold Noodle."

...the music here is grating and arrhythmic. the smoke pollutes my optic sensors.

"Maybe there's a god above, but all I ever learnt from love, was how to shoot at someone who out drew you, well its not a cry you can hear at night, its not somebody who's seen the light, it's a cold and it;s a broken hallelujah" -Leonard Cohen

Let me help you to pick up your dead

As the sins of the fathers are fed

With the blood of the fools and the thoughts of the wise

And from the pan under your bed

"Beware all those angels with their wings glued on."

#When They Come For Me I'll Be Sitting At My Desk With A Gun In My Hand Wearing A Bullet-Poof Vest, Singing 'My My My How The Time Does Fly When You Know You're Gonna Die By The End Of The Night#

"the hardest part about doing nothing is trying to explain yourself to people burdened with a life full of somethings"

Too many thoughts enter my mind to be printed; thus, my philosophical uniqueness is more often than not thrown out the veritable door and into the wilderness of confusion.

“Sounds of eternal conditions are all around us - night cries of ecstasy, the whispers of the dying, promises being made, and soft, disappointed weeping.”

"I feel it as i force it, serated edge through my flesh, cant see blood, cant feel pain, for a moment im invincible, my world comes crashing down as i feel a warm down drip, scars of temptation blister my my skin, this is not my weakness within, crimson falls on snow white skin."

If I speak I am condemned;

If I stay silent I am damned.