The world isn't pretty but it's beautiful. Really beautiful. It's full of surprises, both good and bad; full of ascents and descents and deaths and births. All at once. All for something and all for nothing. And I think of Eve over and over again. On the way and on the way back. When I'm sitting. And I keep walking.

Don't stop living because you're afraid of death. Life's too short for that. Death will meet you no matter what, so take the risk. I guess I'm glad that the gypsy left me and that the flower let itself be uprooted by that wanderer. I wouldn't be living like I am now if they hadn't. I wouldn't really be living for myself and only myself. Tough lesson, I guess. But life isn't pretty. Well, I've known that. The angels are merely companions. They aren't tyrants anymore. Mainly because I don't allow them to be. I'm in charge. Art is an animal but I hold the reigns. Life is beautiful.