Goodbye to the yearnings in which I fixate my fate to. Art, the means of expressing the horrid and beautiful dwelling things of the mind. That which we may falsely try to correct, yet stand defeated with the realization that we cannot erase the flaws created in the process of transferring thoughts to paper.
I must give up, and by giving up to say I will eliminate these barriers built up by pain and self-comparison to false perceptions of idealities. I am giving up on trying to be whatever unrealistic version of myself I have yet set my tracks to.
And these walls must be torn down without care of what stands waiting, hungry on the other s