I Paint My Own Reality.

I Must Fight With All My Strength So That The Little Positive Things That My Health Allows Me To Do Might Be Pointed Toward Helping The Revolution. The Only Real Reason For Living.

I Paint My Own Reality.

You Loved A Man With More Hands Than A Parade Of Beggars, And Here You Stand. Heart Like A Four-poster Bed. Heart Like A Canvas. Heart Leaking Something So Strong They Can Smell It In The Street.”

I Paint Flowers So They Will Not Die.

I Hope The Exit Is Joyful And I Hope Never To Return.