i ask my self who am i and i ask who any of us are the answer is simple we are nothing well not in the grater scheam of it
all anyways even thoes who atained a place in our history books even they are nothing for what did they atain? cloumbus and i laugh they say he discovered america most of us know this is false can the meaning of life ever truly be understood? i hope for your sake and mine that the answer is yes do i
know the meaning of life no i have a theory that it is as simple as eat fuck and die but that is a little more nilalistic than i like to be. i have a terible habbit of being controled by my passions i love all things beautfull first among all beauty is the woman never have i seen anything which could come closer to devine than a smile on a womans face even the slighest smile could ALMOST convince me that God was actualy out there then their is
music i am a slave to music i have a violin that tortures me with sound in my soul and my mind that i cant seem to get out yet i know no other tool could come close to freeing the sound of soul not my flute nor any drum only the violin can sing the chords freedom my third vice or passion is poetry all the world is a poem and nobody can under stand it where i am and what i do, have and will always be determined
by what passion has taken over my soul for the time
