long inhale. longer exhale. i choose.
i choose solitude, complete and ultimate desolation. i choose creation, i choose hard work, i choose the hard way.
i choose the colours, i choose the characters, i choose drawing.
i choose to be fat, i choose to smoke, i choose to be whoever the fuck i want to be.
i close my eyes and i see weird and beautiful things. they overtake my conscious once i let go of control.
i think of stories, and communication, and simplicity, and further i go, less i understand.
it is true what they say - you think you know everything at 16, and the older you get, the more lost you are.