You cannot **** the yearning of a soul,
nor it's nature to pour itself out through the artist.

You cannot stop the soul from sharing the joy that it is compelled
to share with the world.

The artist is not a machine, producing nothing twice.
Producing imperfections and unpolished thoughts.
Producing art in it's purest form,
directly from the soul.

If time does not change us, but rather unfolds us, unfold yourself for me so I may map you out.
I’ll put red push pins at the places I'd like to stop and enjoy the sites of and big X's over the places I want to pass right by.

It feels like I am drowning
Off the side of a passenger ship, and I am shouting
Calling out for someone's help
But most of them walk right past to the main deck where you can watch the dolphins
And the ones that do stop, must think I am treading water just fine.