I think everything in life is art. What you do. How you dress. The way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality. What you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea. How you decorate your home. Or party. Your grocery list. The food you make. How your writing looks. And the way you feel. Life is art.

Poetry is the world behind the world.

I wonder who’s gonna be by my side in 10 years

I can see a hundred people a day who have given up entirely. I can see thousands that feel for nothing or no one and get no feeling back. I do not understand why these people do not vanish I do not understand why these people do not expire why the clouds do not murder them or why the dogs do not murder them or why the flowers and the children do not murder them, I do not understand. I suppose they are murdered yet I can’t adjust to the fact of them because they are so many.