And so I find that a big part of the creativity is replaced by the in-taking of sounds, pictures and words. But it doesn’t fit. It is too much. It charms me, then overwhelms me. Like a bulimic, I just eat and eat without restrictions. And then I waste it. Start over.

The world has so much beauty, but I don’t know how to select. Everything around me is patterns and colours and light and potential inspiration. I’d like to cover my walls. I’d like to wrap it around me when i sleep, I’d like to stir it into my coffee in the morning.

It is so much I would like. To make sense for example.

Also, I’d like to dance breakdance like this six year-old does.
I’m telling you, this world is outrageous.



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