huh?

Lets call a friend.

Oscar Wilde

HE artist is the creator of beautiful things.
To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim.
The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography.
Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.
The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.
No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved.
No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.
No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything.
Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art.
Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art.
From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type.
All art is at once surface and symbol.
Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.
When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself.
We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.

let's write a story

there once were two boys who were driving across the country. one was going to school far far away, and this was the last time they were going to sit in his car and listen to music for hours on end with nothing else to do, but drive. so these two buddies had been driving for a couple days and they had met some amazing people, and had had some amazing adventures, involving lost phones, tires, and cops. so this specific evening they were getting into alabama. and they were getting tired. so they pulled over into a rest stop, and looked at the expanse of the alabama sky. they walked around and enjoyed the fresh air. they talked about how fast the cars were traveling on the road. then they pee'ed and got back into their little toyota corrolla with perfect alignment, put on some mayday parade, and kept driving through an infinite alabama night.

a million years later one of those boys danced wth the other's girlfriend and her mom to "all the single ladies" broken hearts are healed slowly, but simply

best friends make the world better

so here i is

with crappy grammer and even worse spelling.how is it that i feel so alone? i'm around more people. i feel better. i get the answers i need. i'm doing things right for once.i have a good selection of poeple with which to share my day to day life with.
but when i get in my car.and it's all over.i feel like i'm all alone.me and the world.
with god looking out for me.but it feels like it's just me and him.
and sometimes, most of the time, i'm not even as close as i wouldlike to be.
cuz i still feel all alone.and it's no good.i guess i long for those people that wat to hug me and be with me just because they want to
i miss you
all of you
you know who you are.



i feel like walking through this life single file
just looking at someones back
and feeling someone behind me
but i can't turn around
because were all on a tightrope
and if we stop concentrating as hard as we can
well fall off
and i don't know whats below me
and what i'll fall into
i want to jump in but it might be bad
but it might be what i need
cuz there is no end on this tightrope
and everyone knows it
it's just go til you lose your balance
and fall into wathever it is
that awaits you below