"There's nothing to paint anymore.
We've seen everything from the classical to the absurd.
There's nothing to write anymore.
As many books are shredded as read.
There's nothing to sing anymore.
The once avant-garde is now background music."
I have faith in my new beginning, and yet, as always, there looms the fear of the unknown. Who doesn't experience this? Sometimes I look ahead and think, "Well, what's the point? I'm just...done." At the same time, I look back and tell myself, "Who knew I would have made it this far?" It helps to remember I was created for a unique purpose. I would like to believe that, anyway. Most of the time, I still do.
We've seen everything from the classical to the absurd.
There's nothing to write anymore.
As many books are shredded as read.
There's nothing to sing anymore.
The once avant-garde is now background music."
I have faith in my new beginning, and yet, as always, there looms the fear of the unknown. Who doesn't experience this? Sometimes I look ahead and think, "Well, what's the point? I'm just...done." At the same time, I look back and tell myself, "Who knew I would have made it this far?" It helps to remember I was created for a unique purpose. I would like to believe that, anyway. Most of the time, I still do.
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