Art wasn’t personal.

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This is an original abstract made with oil pastels. (I am changing it up a bit right now but this is the background of what is to come! Stay tuned.)

My rambl3 po3try answers the question:

“That’s what I think when I look at you.”

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ORIGINAL FREE VERSE POEM //
VOMIT ALL OVER YOU.

I said hi, “Here’s a poem.” [And before I could ask them; bubbly yellow goop splashed {all} over those dressed-code approved black shoes.]**

“I am sorry
I am an artist
I don’t belong
In school”
I said.

Somehow; someway —
I realized that this whole life
painted around me
was an illusion.

My parents painted my bedroom wall.
Then I got other people too.

Life is —
An impermanent wave
of people, places and things.

(Lifemovesthrough)

growth > genetics

Life is spirituality
((plus evolution.))

Because if it’s all not real,
Why not do and believe
W h a t e v e r t h e f u c k
I want?!

Seeing is believing
Believing is seeing.

So do I believe in fairies?
Whythehellnot?

Greek mythology is not a myth;
It lives in the consciousness.

Religion is science
— it’s as personal
and it is systemic.

I only create my own boundaries.
I alone say what I stand for;
I alone speak with lips every so flummery.

Bold, dramatic
I love my life.
I live my life.
I own my life.
I choose my path.

I choose my way
by the channel
of internal guidance;

I choose my way
Through writing songs
Of rambling
poetry.

Art.
It breaks the rules so well;
While wearing a mask.

Who am I?
A moral
Anti-religious
Beauty school
drop out.

Fuck.
I’ve never felt better.

((((((:::((((( What I used to think:
** I asked them to cup their hands in front of me as I vomited truth into their clasped fingers. )))))))))::::::)))))))

♥️