My mind’s hardware is outdated, this I know as fact. I want my paranoia to leave me. Its data encrypted in every cell, dwelling in every thought. With each new day, another attempt to install something new, but to no avail.
I know you’ve spent a great deal of time crafting your walls and building them towards the sky of your mind. Keep them all in their fortified beauty; I only hope, that somewhere within, you fashion a magnificent door that leaves those who find it breathless, and if I am lucky enough to find it and capable of proving my worth, that you entrust me with a key. I will not let strangers in, and promise to leave everything inside alone. I would be a humble spectator, and if asked I would be there to listen, comfort, and help. Each time I leave, you can be certain the key is in safe hands with the door locked tight.
Useless, waste of fucking space;
an old toy left under the bed.
I see your suffering, I cannot help;
no purpose, no need, nothing.
Inadequate, dark feeling
unsteady breathing, caving lungs
what matters if anything
can be broken, is broken
from inside to false smile
I doubt you along with everything
Everything you do for others ultimately helps you, it’s in the way you go about it. When you have a brief moment of compassion, and when you feel compelled to simply help because you know the other person needs and deserves it; when that moment happens, you have helped them which ends up helping you, but when you intentionally help yourself by helping them, that’s when you have failed.
I have an update for all of you lovely people! Currently I have three pieces from the Jones Street series up in a shop downtown. My studio space is a go, and I will be receiving the keys within the coming week or so. New prints on the way, finishing the Jones series, and then working on some paintings! Also, designing some shirts for a local company. Life is good, much love guys!