I've decided to only make this about passion and madness, because that's what is most important.
Maybe passionately angry.
Mad to live.
I could even be passionate about how indifferent I am to a given subject.
But I guess you already know that because you are also living, even if you maybe aren't fully alive.
Right now I feel mad for colors.
All colors.
Sometimes when I see a color I feel like I just ate a whole pizza, it's that rich and warm and full.
I don't understand how it's possible to feel overfull from looking at a fabric or the grass, but i'm so glad it is because that means that even as they tear fields apart and forests become few there will always be beauty. Even if its artificial.
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