its awful quiet in text-town. so that sucks. i was hoping to hear from him. i just want to talk to him so i can stop thinking about it. its not that im obsessed. i just feel inspired.
a muse is something that only another artist could really understand. so forgive me.
but a muse doesnt have to be A muse. it can be a feeling that you get from someone at a certain time. you may get that feeling from someone else at another time. ive had it before. there are people who stick out. they are colorful and dark and sticky. they cling to my mind like wrinkled tin foil. molded to the remnants of what was once cradled there. he sticks out. i can see his hair and skin and hear his voice and it makes me want to paint a battle of colors. its so weird.
and i love aaron. hes everything i ever wanted. and will ever want. but hes not my muse. he inspires me without being my inspiration. he loves me and i am passionate about him. but he is not my artistic passion.
and its better that way.
the problem with that, however, is that he probably would have quite the problem with understanding.
its hard to be me sometimes.
will you raise me up, will you help me down?
will you get me right out of this god-forsaken town?
can you make it all a little less cold?
will you hold me sacred, will you hold me tight?
will you colorize my life? im so sick of black and white
can you make it all a little less old?
will you make me some magic with your own two hands?
will you build and emerald city with these grains of sand?
can you give me something i can take home?
will you cater to every fantasy i've got?
will you hose me down with holy water if i get too hot?
can you take me places i've never known?
can you do that?