I am ready for life. It is time to stop worrying about shit,
it's time to start reading books
and get inspired do art.
BE BUSY TO THE
POINT WHERE NOTHING MATTERS.
MAKE MONEY.
MAKE ART.
MAKE A LIVING.
MAKE A LIFE.

Let's get back to those old days of stressful carefreedom; sticking my head out of the window to watch the heat of the room distort the view of Philadelphia's roof gardens. All nighters and watching the blue haze of the morning be dashed with the red streetlights while the kids snore in time with the music being played. Aural and visual space and time be the only things that one can grasp.
I hate it and love and it and want to make it.
White walls surrounding vibrant minds.
I've come to terms that the people we meet are mostly fleeting, save a handful.
Can you believe it? We're at the dawn of our potential lives.
How exciting is that?

I'm gonna go upstairs now and read Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs and then dream until Anatomy class alarms me. Art will come later.