I haven't met a person yet that deserves my level of understanding. The one deserving of this would first have to be conscious to some degree. Not as conscious as me, but at least be trying to see and understand some shit. Especially his own shit. What does hurt + hurt equal? A complete shit show. I need someone that at least understands that. If they understand that and they ain't about the drama. Not internal or external drama, they've already begun the work on themselves and have maybe even completed it. That's what i need. Someone in control of themselves. I'm exhausted from helping niggas find they way. And ain't even trying to think about all the many years we both were blind mice walking in circles. No clue about nothing. No destination. The heart had no real plan. Nor did the mind. Everything ran on instant gratification. And this is how I now realize I was out of control. As were they. How would that look? As a still visual?
|"Untitled." Created in Samsung Notes|
See? Chaos. I drew this shit and I'm still trying to figure it out. Many silent, staring minutes later and it just makes no sense. Is this considered abstract? The words are accurate, but they only come later. Not while in the midst of. They come much later. Like over a decade later. So I've merged past with present here. I think i know why i choose red. It's the universal color for anger and danger. That's fitting. But why did i choose blue? What does my mind associate that with? Blue for boy? Blue for feelings? Depression? Blue for the sea that I drowned in?