Tuesday, April 7, 2009

We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.

On well i've deleted some of the emotional posts, dont feel like keeping them here, in my secret bin; they often turn my mind to an 'on' button when i start scrolling down while reading through; all kinds of thoughts will start popping out; and soon i will have to close down the blog.

So far everything is going pretty fine (i think), i'm glad with it.

All my life i had been looking for something, and everywhere i turned; someone tried to tell me what it was.  I accepted their answers, though they were often in contradiction and even self-contradictory.  I was naive.  I was looking for myself and asking everyone except myself questions which i, and only i, could answer. . .

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

My latest piece of art; its thrown away because i wasnt satisfied with it; leaving a pic.