The collapse of reality is strong. Growing with intensity and will last very long. Listen to the birds as they sing their song. Beaming lights shine down upon the road. Reflecting a path to the bufo alvarius toad. But sadly it gets overshadowed. Walking along the structured paths of identity. With no sense of any serenity. Soon you are dead dying death coagulated flesh. You know the rest. Stop. Down in the depths of an abstract thought forgetting everything that society taught. Living for yourself and no one else. We shall not be just a puppet on a shelf. The thoughts of an abstract mind manifest the psychedelic imagery of reality.
“I don’t think about art when I’m working. I try to think about life.” — Jean-Michel Basquiat