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MENTAL OPULENCE

I am a left-handed, right-brained artist, pianist, writer. I believe in the magic of the electric guitar. My faith in humanity is unbridled & rapid, unchanging yet filled with responsible pressure. When it comes to PASSION, I hold no punches. I embody convictions far more courageous than the reserved self I project. My waters, while respectively deep, rush constantly, without stillness.

Little more than subtle, a far cry from invisible. A believer in my sexuality being powerful. Cunning, sometimes.
Revel in your ART.


SEE MY PAST POSTS FROM:
December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 June 2011 July 2011 August 2011 September 2011 October 2011 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 June 2012







Dare to demand that which your heart conveys; I live for nothing less than learning all that I can possibly know. The crime is to believe in ignorance as a term in itself, let alone a lifestyle. Be that which intellect insists -- learned.




Commit TO LIVE & LOVE WITH CAUTION FREELY.


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Be happy with random things in life. Above all else, be whole.







Dividends of the Psyche, Matters of the Heart.
December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 June 2011 July 2011 August 2011 September 2011 October 2011 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 June 2012

4.13.2012 || 11:33 PM

Here I am.
This absence of inspiration is my last dollar in my wallet, my one and only coin.
Not magnificent, though not boring. Every corner of my mind's eye sees some form of graspable hope.

Blah, blah, blah. The pathological optimist, serial monogamist, habitual thought producer & idea machine. My dreams are as large as my hair, yet cloudy as my empty fish bowl.

I continuously experience tragedy, but can't find it within myself to stop believing that I'm chosen for something. To suffer? Perhaps.
I'm rarely ever loved as I should be. But to ask my heart today how it doubles in size at the mere thought of my ability to love... Orgasmic cognition, to say the least.


Yet all I could come up with for a pictoral representation of who I am at this very moment was this forced, hackneyed smirk.
I know what I'm missing, but I can't find it. I've tried. I'm exhausted upstairs *taps temple for effect* and forcing things has always felt like an obvious form of sabotage, to me. I'm well used to the abstinence, the "no, thank you's" and countless eves of solitude... But, now my mind isn't even compensating for what I can't feel. What to do?