JudyBooty

So I am silly.

Hi my name is Judea and I am addicted to my own thoughts, and words, and sounds, and my own voice...I can't stop....I can't stop communicating...the thing is, it is grasping at smoke. It never occurred to me that the things that make me feel more alive also make me feel more human...But, (insert !!! behind "but") there is something deeper in that...Like somehow being base, being wretched, being broken is a terrible beautiful awesome mystery. Because at the end of tonight that is what I will be -a little more human-(rush through these words, as if excited), but by morning I will have died just a little more....and the more I die the more Christ lives...None of this makes sense...It all reminds me of the book of Ecclesiastes and another verse (someone more studious could reference it for you) that talks about how the spirit communicates to the Father what the brain cannot put into words...I just hope some spirit bleeds through.

to me "Art" is a visual aid for an internal conversation.