The manic phase has begun. I'm a genius. I am so happy I could burst. Flowers pop everywhere, almost turning into sounds. Sounds turning into colors turning into words turning into lines that form Matisse paintings that bleed into Dali landscapes that make my arms itch with joy and it all brings me closer to the abyss, because you cannot fly to the sun and expect not to be burned.
Just think of all those people who never fly close to the sun ... I know the dark side is agony, but I can't imagine never once feeling that heat.
ReplyDelete