bullets and butterflies

2 of my favourite things… they make a good picture when put together.  BANG!  and out come the butterflies all so pretty and flying freeeeeeeee.  fuk my life.  well right now.  sometimes i wonder if the big guy upstairs will ever give me a break…?  surely i cant be that much of a sinner?   lol.  of course i am.   fucking bullshit all the people who are in ur life but not really in it, why cant we have more connection with each other.  speaking to myself right now.  was never much good at relationships haha.

listened to a speaker tonight at church, he was talking about being a hippo… and wallowing.  lol i think thats wat he said anyway.  well i feel like a big fat hippo now, wallowing in my own self pity wondering where my life is going and if there is any chance that some good will come out of it.  sure i paint pretty pictures and take pretty photos-  i also take shocking photos and paint ugly pictures… not bad- just dark and depressive.  cos thats how i always seem to feel.   so much in the dark.  nite times creep up on me so soon everyday and i wonder where the sunshine has gone.  those warm rays of light that soak into your skin… yes those ones.  they are swallowed up by the darkness of the night, leaving me with nothing but a cold wet and dirty dark environment.  everything is black. or gray.  or white.  theres no colour when the sun goes down, thats how light works supposedly.   or matter of fact. 

if only there could be sun and rainbows and flowers and butterflies all the time so that i could sit and stare at them and drift off into my world of euphoria and feel the peace and the love of the trees and living creatures that breathe into the earths very being.  we are so small, our life span so short… a tree lasts hundreds of years and its roots go so deep into the ground.  we as humans however, dont seem to last that long.  we live, we die.  if ur lucky u mite make it to 80… maybe even 90.  but why the hell would u wana be around on earth for that long anyway.  the sooner the better.  ill go back to the garden of eden and live in paradise and all things will be beautiful.  no more hurt, no more pain, no more suffering or sickness or disease.  just a waterfall of love……….    i would like to go there soon.  i feel myself getting impatient.  have i not served my time on this earth, in this prison for long enough?  No. I haven’t.  Because its a life sentence.  bitch.

The sky is falling and i float up towards the heavens

The days and weeks and months have continued to go on. 

Time does not stop for anyone.  Or anything. 

I wonder when this never ending cycle will be broken, if it ever will be, and if there is really an eternal purpose in all of this. 

my heart does not stop beating though sometimes i wish it would. 

friends have come,  and then gone.  some have stayed on and bravely soldiered on with me in the battle, whilst others have given up the fight and left me at the front of the battlefeild to fend for myself. 

Apparently sometimes we can get a little bit too messy for people’s liking.  and thats when they go.  I dont blame them.  In the name of god they preach with their mouths and yet they speak contrite to the word.  i wonder if their own heart has been so damaged it hurts them to look at others who seem so defiled. 

what makes someone defiled?  too much for another human being to stand the sight of them?  We look at others and are disgusted by their actions, yet we dont realise that we are looking straight into a mirror… and we dont like what reflection we see. 

So its not a pretty picture….what to do, what to do? i ask myself that sometimes.  and i think well right about now would be a good time to hit up the psychs and get me a script.  Because of course, by societys standards, if we’re asleep, or perhaps just stoned off our head on meds, then we’re all ok. 

I did an art piece in 2007, my first year of uni- it was titled “Prozac Nation”.  my god it was an amazing piece of art.  its a pity it was destroyed from the rain and cold which ran the hundreds of pictures of prozac ink all together creating one big mess.  I wasnt smart enough back then to take pictures of my work… or document it.  maybe its time for “Prozac Nation #2″…. that would be fabulous.

So my time is ticking away and yes im wasting it writing on a computer… something that only a few people will ever read… unless i died then got famous- thats how it seeems to work for artists, only God knows why.  no one appreciates their work until no more of it can be made.  LOL.  how ironic.

the seasons of life are just washing over me.  passing me by like waves hitting the sand.  and each footprint forward i make it is erased by the water’s tide that constantly flows in… a metaphor for my angels and demons i suppose. 

I miss the old times.  good memories were made and terrible ones too.  but at least the people i made those memories with were a part of my life.   they are long gone now.  ‘caring’ from a distance, as they say.  I do not hold much knowledge or hope for the future memories.  they are blacked out by a darkness that is so comforting to me.  I know they are there, they are just covered, unrevealed and unknown.  another decade of hell?  or maybe i will see a little bit of heaven. 

AND NOW- the present.  it is this moment.  and i am floating through the clouds hovering over myself in this time.  watching, waiting, for the next thing to happen.  I see myself from above and below.   I am a stranger looking in.  And yet i am a prisoner looking out. 

i wonder when my time will come.  come for what, im not sure of.