Epiphany.

Connoisseur
Connoisseur of Color.
Connoisseur of Clarity.
Connoisseur of Contemplation.
Connoisseur of Questions.

What’s your connoisseur? Is a connoisseur a thing, anyway? Is it supposed to be used as a person, instead?

Is it just me, or is the creativity squished out of us at a young age? What about when we were told that things like dragons and fairies and spirits and demons and goblins and wicked things… didn’t exist? Why would they say such things?

What is beauty? Physical? Mental? Emotional? Everything? Natural? Fake? Does love really make something beautiful? Is brightness beauty? What about darkness? Where does it begin and end? Why are you so beautiful? Why is that girl over there… so very bland? Will Beauty really dance with anyone who is brave enough to ask? How do you define ‘beauty’, anyway?

What is ugliness? Overbearing? Irrelevant? Boring? Painful to look at? Suffering? Is it not there for you? What if you decided that ugly was really beautiful? What if I said I thought ugly was beautiful?

Is what you see what you need to do about it?

Can you make it to ‘more curiosity, and less security’? Can you make it to where you can see things you can’t do anything about? What if you wanted to look away, but what if you felt you couldn’t? Do you know everything about beauty and ugliness? What about curiosity?

Does gravity work every time?
Can you see everything I don’t see?
Can you please point them out so I wont miss them?

Why is the sky blue? Why does it turn red and then black at night? How come rocks are so gritty? Why cant cameras capture life? Why do you think we thought cameras stole a bit of our souls? What about mirrors? Why did ancient alchemists think that mercury would have the powers of the Philosopher’s Stone? How come our imaginations can go anywhere it seems? Why is ugliness so beautiful? Why is beauty so ugly? Why is selfishness so very good? Is the brain really like a computer? Why isn’t it like a rainforest instead? Is the body really a temple? Why isn’t it a fiesta? Why is writing so free? And drawing, too? How come there’s at least one flaw in every religion? Why can I always find those flaws if given time? Can you bring something to life? Is killing really the greatest sin? What about resurrection? Don’t some people deserve to die? Who gave me my eyes? Do you help me see for myself? Do I help you? Why do you keep saying I’m beautiful? Why don’t I believe you? What about windows? What are they? Why do you think I can survive in a windowless room? Who was it who decided that birds were completely free? Would you believe me if I said that the ordinary, plain, beautifully ugly, beautiful, extraordinary normalcy saved my life? Not changed, but saved?

How can everything make so much more sense when you ask questions?

Epiphany’s are like being dinked in cold water, don’t you think?

Hush.

Enjoy the silence.

PIC : \Google/..why the fuck i dont own a better camera than my shitty 6300 :@ :@