At the moment, I am nothing. Maybe in a minute I won't be

This site at the moment for me is two things, one a last resort for any sort of mild entertainment and two; a painful reminder at how incredibly fragile my memory is. I have this sort of disease, this special condition where I tend to remember only in images. I only remember something by piecing together something else that reminds me of what exactly I wanted to do. I remember one night I had something I really wanted to say on here. I remember in one moment I was painting and I wanted to really write my thoughts down. My disease is being human.

I did, but not in any language that anyone can read. I can't even read it, its all isolated within this painting that I have been slaving over for weeks that I feel like will blow a persons mind for a second.

But just for that one second, it is very, VERY worth it. Time is much better spent slaving over something that looks appealing rather than a blog post that will appeal to nobody. Nobody more than myself. words are my immediate shout for exasperation, these shouts on paper may not eventually look like shouts anymore. Several slashes and stabs here and there. Vibrant emotional colors swirling together to create an ultimate image. The image ends up being my resolved conflict.

The image ends up being my answer to my question, try this sometime. Paint or draw an answer to a question that has been screaming for an answer. Don't scream too loud because the answer may be no louder than a whisper.

But this is not what people want to see, the hero that died trying is not worth telling about to future generations. Every noble sacrifice of a martyr always produces a wanted effect afterwards. we push a child away from a car because that is noble. People want to see conflict resolved and battled, not just by itself.

But what if both you and the child die? Sure the gesture was probably the greatest sacrifice you could make. But if you hadn't of jumped in front of the car one person would be saved. Utilitarianism at its best. I would jump regardless, I am a hero without a cause. An apple ripening on a tree just to eventually wither on the branch and fall to the ground to rot for the ants. At least in death I can serve a purpose for something besides myself.

Have you ever felt like you were meant for something more?

Have you ever felt like maybe if you could just be heard you could actually make a difference?

Stagnation can only be broken by a rock. Tranquility is a fine goal, freedom ever the better. But first we must endure the rapids if we would ever want to become a still lake. Freedom even on paper is an impossible goal, everything comes at a cost. It is the cost that yields the benefit, we know this. We knew this from the moment we stole our first breath of air. we know this as we take every breath afterwards. I know this when I sit in the limbo between work and school. In the darkest hours is when I shine, brimming with desire to do something well.

I just have to build up this energy, this potential. Take all my energy out of simply moving through time and actually move through space, through my brush and pen, through my fingers onto the canvas. I feel my cup filling up once more, What will happen when the meniscus breaks? The cup will become empty again.