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Mood: Tireddd
Song: Perfection Through Silence; Finch

Painting pictures is such an easy task.
Make the lighting all nice and bright.
Use warm colors.

Some believe art to be nothing but pretty pictures.
Fake pictures.

Hardly.
Art is anything in my eyes.
Humans are art to me.
Their actions are the paint.
They paint the picture to their everyday life.

The interactions they run into, that's the paint mixing.
The people interacting with one another.
Couples - Secondary colors.
On and on and on the paint continues to mix.
Until death it becomes white.

I'm starting to wonder why we're connected.
Of all people, why do we always talk?
Why do we always mix.
Its a disaster. Our personalities should not get along.
Ever.
Every road we take, we collide.
A car set out to crash.
A boat set out to sink.

The fool and the liar.
That'd make one hell of a tale.
You paint the truth, the ugly destruction of our connection.
I paint the lies, the pretty heavenly side to this disaster.

It irritates me no one else seems to understand.
I have no one to get advice from.
I have no one who'd give advice worthwhile.
I don't even care what happens much anymore.
My emotions with you have been pissed or just okay whatever.

You know where to poke.
I know where to hide.
You know how to play.
I know how to run.
Your words are a disease.
Mine are a beautiful tragedy.

Reading into this too much causes even more chaos.
Just letting things go with the flow is the best road.
You burn, while I wither into sand.
You're the fire.
I'm the hourglass.

Ticking away.

Step off the plank -
Paint the way -
Let's not mix -
We never made a pretty color.