i

i

think my hands were meant to create art. there is an uncomfortablility in silence and stillness. like i need a distraction or a reason or something to make my hands shake and perspire from working too hard.

the other day i came to a realization that i have no purpose on this earth. no wife or no husband (still unclear) no kids or a job. i realized that my own existence is so uncertain that the universe could make me disappear in an instance.

i had paint on my hands and i thought of your smile. i don’t know what about it but i was brought to a time where life was easier and my biggest problem was going a day without holding your hand. but yesterday i thought i had a heart attack and i think tomorrow will be hard too.

i wonder when i will see you again? are we together on another version of this reality? did i wise up and never say good bye? did i not make that mistake? is there another planet where i realized how lucky i was to get to be the reason you laughed? i guess we will never know huh