A Small Paragraph About How to Feel Okay / Written On A Sunday Night

There is no definition. I am human and I get angry. Don’t tell me how to dress or how to cut my hair. Don’t tell me how to be. Don’t tell me how to be an artist. The very fiber of the being that is ART is undefinable. There is no definition. For anything. There is no limit. No rules. No one to answer to. Morally, of course, there is right and wrong. Don’t hurt. Be good. But don’t be ‘good.’ Be crazy. Be unpredictable. It’s midnight. Let’s drive to New York City. Always talk to strangers. Buy something new at the grocery store. Pick flowers on the side of the road and bring them to a friend. Write a book. Watch the ants on the sidewalk. Keep a clean house and a messy life. Or a messy house and an even messier mind. Remember, no rules. So you want to make music but you don’t know how. Bang on something loudly and hum along and then bang on something else and hum louder. You’ve made music. So you want to be a painter but you don’t know how. Get the nail polish out of you dresser and pour it on your mirror. You’ve just painted. No rules. Always dance. Dancing is just a body that does something new. So dance. Alone, in a bar, in the streets, with your lover, without your lover because she is definitely going to leave. And that’s okay. All you have is yourself and even that’s not a guarantee. So love, very strongly. Love everything as much as you can for as long as you can. There’s no limit. No limit to love and laughter and hugs and handshakes and stupid jokes and sunsets and all that cheesy stuff that doesn’t seem important but it really is.

We, all that we are and everything around us, is just a series of painfully glorious accidents.

As long as you are good and nice and kind, you have the universe’s permission to do whatever you want. Work hard, always. Don’t grow up. It’s useless. Always know you are still a child inside that pounding heart—let every beat remind you that soon you will end, as will everything, but soon is not as soon as you think and that inevitable end is not a reason stop. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.


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