26-07-04 14:20

On the bus to the beach. Helluva a day. Always a late riser when I can be.

The thought that prompted this meeting with space: I am on my journey to death. Don't know when it'll happen. Not necessarily trying to rush to the end or prolong the trip. Just thinking. I don't want to be on this bus ride forever. Get me to my destination. But I will love. I will cry. I will make a ruckus. But let me off this bus when it's time. Even if you have to pull me out. I don't think we'll have that problem. But it'll be nice to have that problem. I just hope that what I do makes the ride easier for others. And I hope there will be more to make a ruckus, to love, to sob uncontrollably.

I romanticize a bit much hah. But I guess that's the artist in us. We want to curate the experience. We want to go into it with a certain respect. Maybe it's control. But I think it's just another statement I want to make. Every moment is an opportunity to make a statement. And death is our final statement.

Listening to Blonde - Frank Ocean