The urge to create beautiful things is so strong in me. Letters and words, pictures, postcard, shapes, colors, curves, and praise. I want to leave a beautiful mark. Explode into the sky like a firework blossom, and sparks of light float down everywhere.
Delirious with hangover right now, lack of sleep and too many tears. My eyes are dry and burning swollen. But my heart is set to burst. Pen to paper, and I could go for days, unquestioning. To-dos be damned; I want to FEEL, to taste. I want everything delicious, and beautiful, all art.
Maybe these are my death throes. I’ve considered that. But this is what I must do to stay alive. Send it out of me, everywhere, every which way, and be free.