the painful truth is that no matter how good I may be feeling, I am eventually going to decline back into a dark place without knowing when (if ever) I am going to come back out of it. I feel I am fighting against myself as the darkness swallows me. I cannot help but question my existence because this feeling makes me feel as if I am only existing… not living.
I choose to wear my heart on my sleeve. virtually, everyone has labels hanging over them. I would like to remove them, but the truth is, we are all larger than the labels people give us to confine and define us. my soul speaks through images, words, and art; every shutter captures another piece of the soul, converting fragments of my life into memories. I draw lines to cross and wear clothes to take off. I live with friction in my bed and fantasies in my head. I am living an eternal fairytale where everything is coated in love, love and more love. I am flashy, I am deep, and my heart is the centerfold. passion is essential in my life. too many people are simply living but very few are alive. forget about the plastics and the superficial. I want classy, I want trashy. give me anything that breathes with conviction: thinkers, lovers and leaders; people who turn love into paintings, people who turn tears into sonnets, people afraid of life but never afraid to live.