Brush (II)
I draw a line somewhere...
It's weird... Like I did this.
Hmm...
I don't remember when.
Or why, right?
Right...
Like a dream...
No, a nightmare.
Yes, that's it, that's what it was. All this time it was just a nightmare, a thing that I couldn't escape. Yet I forgot about it.
But why?
But why?
I don't understand, I mean, look at me... Why is this, this? Why am I asking these questions?
We all have problems, like that chip on your shoulder. Chip, chip, chip, look at me, I'm a chip. And now what? We're all problems bundled as humanitarian cases... Wild, dumb and dumber...
Who did this offend? Whose problem is it anyway?
Mine?
No? Yes? Yours... Yes, yours... It should be...
Should it be? I have no idea... This is rubbish, when there's nothing to do, nothing to control, nothing to save anything.
Then why am I asking this? What's the point?
Point.
Yet I'm rambling.
What was my point?
A problem, there has to be a problem, an idea, a something.
Gripping. Tight. Suffocating. Thought provoking. Something different. Something magical.
So, can I get some help? I would really appreciate some help. I mean, you can hear it, can't you? That voice.
What does it say?
What does it say? Hmm...
I say...
I said... I mean... There is something wrong.
That's the problem... Isn't it? I get confused easily. If it's not right, it's wrong, it's not for me, it's not for you, and if it's for someone, then is it wrong? I don't get it anymore. Why do I care? Why does anyone care? How do we care? When it doesn't have anything to do with any of us... Yet it impacts us all... It's stupid.
Extremely...
Extreme! That's it... Like everyone's the worst, the best, the Hitler, the savior of the world. It's tiring...
I'm sleepy...
But the nightmares...
Yes, the nightmares...
Which is worse?
Worse?
Between the open eyes or the closed ones...
Worse... Are both, equally...
Dread... That's the word I was looking for. Looming for...
Artistic, again...
Idiotic, maybe. There is no artistry involved in my...
My? Where was I going with this? I had something to say... Like it was wrong. Like it bothered me when I thought... Think, say, do?
Ha! Do... Wrong, again.
I know...
It's weird...
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