Sad

In the moments of sadness I feel that the Earth is for steady workers and freaks. And I'm neither one. I wish this all wouldn't function as rationally as it seems. 'Cause abundant rationality is sad.

abundant rationality is sad

I'd call for more imagination in reality. Irrational details. Unexpected events. Having the power I'd make the Earth a softer place. More like misty dreams.

So that's a call for art? But getting started requires determination, and for that sense of direction is needed. Or should I just crawl aimlessly like the most?