EpicPhailure96

Answers to take up the time. Words to take up the space. Empty and meaningless, how long will they matter? Did they ever?

It's raining outside. The TV isn't working too well.  Ryan is reading now. Roy's on his Mac. I am too of course. Or else I wouldn't be writing this. The paintings that I'm facing are lovely to look at. Modern art in hues of red. Colors of the sunset mixed with splatters of white, red, golden yellow, plum purple, and forest green. Hues of pink look like tornadoes on two of the paintings. The background (what seems to be the background) is in shades of purple. A cloudy purple blue colors the bottom corner of two paintings. One in the bottom right, the other in the bottom left. I don't know how people come up with such art. It's extraordinary.

A couple nights ago, questions came up. Laughs over ballet or hip hop... Quiet moments in which brains were racked about how to enter a question. Times in which there was no clear answer. And today I sit, pondering over what I couldn't answer... what I didn't answer... what I wish I had said or what I wish I had done instead of what had happened. But the moments have passed. But the concept of wishing to do something again sparks a bit of inspiration for me. And, right now, as I leave myself in the past, reliving moments, I ask: What would you have done differently? Without consequence. Regardless of how anyone or anything reacts. If you cou