arts for my void

Because I build weird stuff, I talk about batshit crazy things in the universe, and then I space out.

I will become one with everything.

Yet I, and you, will also live and die as alternate variants, in an infinite cycle of births and deaths , as every universe, multiverse, Omniverse and the transcendent of the field of space and time follows this principle.

Like where did all that time go? In my process of rebuilding myself and being alcohol-free, I've found I want to feel alive again.

I thought I lost it forever when my father died, and my dog Bela.

The best method of recovery i recommend, is cut off the booze, spend lots of time alone with yourself. It feels like fucking hell at first, but you begin to find a bottomless well of strength inside you. And workout regularly.

The feeling of being alive. Aspects of life will still suck sometimes. But instead of overtaking you, you find your power to turn the volume way down. So big problems... become little problems.

And when I leave for good, I'll be mourning all my missed chances. I'll bury them in the ground. Then set fire and burn everything, everything everything. And I will say goodbye to New York.

Happy new year. The truth? Life often really sucks, except if you're a billionaire and they deserve to be eaten!