Art and Deeper

i wonder if it's too much to ask to be surrounded by more fashionista/os, photogs, music junkies and the ecetera. i feel silly dressing up for school sometimes (grad school!). i'm labeled as emo if i passionately enjoy and analyze what students are wearing, or when i look at a photograph and say, "yes, that's it."
something about being in a pool of passionate people strikes me. it lets me live another day. i don't mean to be so dramatic, but that's who i am. i like seeing you, for who you are, not for all that you are hiding behind. you're a tree, and im ready to get beyond your shallow leaves, i dig. that's who i am. and i don't want to be this way at times, it often isolates me for people are a peculiar bunch. they fear what they long for the most, to be real and be. but they raise up their fists, branches and all, waving to themselves to push against the momentarily drafts of purposelessness. im not inclined to tell anyone that i got it all figured out, nope i'm even worse, dealing with insecurities that many do not know of. but what i do know, and have gotten figured out, this life is short, why waste it with superficial jargon? yea, maybe art itself is a shallow distraction also, but it leads to deeper meanings. how can art in essence be superficial without insulting the piece itself? if it is insult, it rightly deserves its pain. it's only is a piece of crap, it deserves to be insulted.

harsh? i suppose. but superficiality is insulting. we all are, and we all insult one another with it. only because we're scared.


until we know we are loved
and is in love.

by one who isn't swayed by the weak structures of this place
we call life.