lots of paint

completely overcome by actual moments. actual possibility.
the ability to perceive a moment. to experience it in a balloon, time being the air inside...
it pops. it goes and it's gone. and then your life consists of just trying to breathe that air. to taste those things again, to see that one, smell this..

a feeling of being stuck inside powers instead of standing above them, wielding them.
there are distractions everywhere. i can't see things in plans, in outlines. it's becoming more difficult to visualiZe.

but i can operate
inside constraints.
even better - one's i set for myself. that i create. that
i create. that

the reach of possibility is infinite. the only way you can operate within the infinite without being torn to pieces is by being.

This means to dance,sing, play. and when you play that means that you are setting up rules around you.

things are getting so blurry for me that i can't really understand what is and isn't "ok"... simple things are hard to grasp. too many choices, tabs open, places to go.

in the end all things die away and you really only loved the people around you.

don't hide the brush strokes, you're painting a masterpiece