The last time I sketched with ink in the Black Sketchbook was the first time. I used pencil as the outline structure because I didn’t want to make any mistakes. Ironically, I ended up making an irreversible mistake and couldn’t finish it. This time I didn’t care. I did not use pencil as the outline, in fact there was no outline. I just went with it.
In Pursuit of Happiness?
If I was ever to smoke,
it would have to be a cigar or a pipe.
I’d dye half my hair grey and the bottom half emerald green.
I’d turn my speakers to the loudest and dance on my bed.
I’d make it rain confetti.
If I was ever to swim in the ocean, I would dive into the very depth, until I was literally running out of air.
If I was ever to cry about the same things as before, I would do it loudly, in the streets. Wrecking havoc in the open markets.
If I was out again at 4am with nothing to do, I’d skate right in the middle of the highway… backwards, until sunrise and until the grit on my deck considerably erodes the soles of my converses.
If I was ever to run away, I would run so fast and so far. I would never come back, simply because I wouldn’t know how to.