During the times where you lose yourself in agony, you become antagonistic toward everything you aim for. A piece of parody of what art stands for today. What is art now? Is it the colors? Is it the message? Is it the language? Is it the thought? Is it the spontaneousness? Although not a fan of curse words it seemed necessary to make any sense for the message. Apologies to anyone offended, but it is a look into my own past so I learn from it. The piece is getting help from the words, in a way I am cheating, I am cheating to make sense with my expressions, but is it the right way? It seems to be only an act of giving up in front of a big wall and a cry for help.
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