Vincent

I am inside this painting called life. All around me the paint is drying. I long to be fluid and swim accros the canvas. Unrestrained and free. But the paint is drying, leaving me rigid in the confines of a society that will have me hardened. Hardened and immobile. Unfeeling. But before the paint dries entirely, I will break free from this painting. I will soar to the sky and make it my canvas. I will paint stars in the night sky.