Life, What Does It All Mean?
Published Tuesday, August 17, 2004 by Marcus | E-mail this post
Life is art, or a dream, or both, or disapeering clouds. I dream of open spaces, but sometimes my mind is closed. Sometimes I feel boxed inside myself. Sometimes I feel freerer than a bird. Sometimes I wish it would all go away. Sometimes I wish it would never end. Sometimes time goes too fast - months pass like seconds. What the hell, is this some kind of drug trip??? Yes, life is like a drug, maybe just as dangerous, if you overdose, or underdose.
It's like, weird, man...