As time flows through the generations it varies the people of art, culture, believe, and gods.
Writing, acting, along the world of art.
Suppose that is the case, then where do we fall as?
Human drench in its own feces, no right given of individuality, Slave?
Words, go unheard, and unread.
why make art if there is no point to them?
Do we need to go further to make a point?
Question the reason of the method
Dose art make you angry, dose words hurt you, in the end
We feel, we dislike, we love, despite the laws against art we as humans are work of art.
sorry just some words to say
I read random books so random I have no clue where to begin.
One book title I have to say is "Kingdom of fear" by Thompson S. Hunter.
inspiration
