shades of postbox red to deep purple
add some water and the drops seep into each other and create veins like trees or rivers seen from space.
what is it to be alive, is it to have a pulse, to go to work, to have obligations and responsabilitys?
is it the birth of new children or the beauty of mother nature whom will ultimitly be destroyed by us.
they say destruction is a form of creation.
after these questions i ask, is self harm really destroying yourself, or is it what it is to be alive, just from another point of view?
after all the world and everyything in it is all just opinions.
who was the one who decided right from wrong?
ultimetly time is all time, it wont change, it wont warn you and me, or explain things, it simply just is.
take it moment by moment, blood drop by blood drop and like me you will find we are all of us just another bug in amber.
just another ant in a feild, another person on a planet, another star in the universe, another universe in a universe and then just another fish in a fish bowl.