there are a thousand things I want to do, and I am doing them as I live. Sometimes I feel like I’m not living hard enough, like I’m somehow wasting my time. However, I’m in portugal doing my thing, making art, but why? everyone I know is back home, everyone I love is back home. Isn’t that life? Living it with the people you love? I don’t know. Societies view on what it is to “live” is fucked up, makes people believe that leaving everything is leaving, but that’s such a lie. Finding what you love, and doing it with the people you love is living, not escaping it.
So I sit in my bed, writing this blog, thousands of miles from people I love, and want to be with. I’ve learned without higher learning, I’ve prospered without a degree. People yearn for dreams that I have accomplished. Yet, I wake up in the morning thinking, here we go again. I want to fill my brain with information, and my room with art.
Give me all you have, and I will give you all of me.
