"i can't understand why people are frightened of new ideas. i'm frightened of the old ones."

the point of avant-garde art is almost always to challenge the idea of what it is (eg. is this a sculpture? is this a play? is this a song?). in other words, the point of it is to get people to ask, "is this art?"
so, people always doubt that avant-garde art is, in fact, art. but i think that the question is more, "is mainstream art art?" because, like, those paintings from the 18th century of lords and ladies who have paid the artist to make them look good, they're not really art. they're more a service. isn't the point of art to expand the viewer's consciousness?
therefore, if art follows all of the popular conventions of its medium of the day, but its only purpose is to entertain or to gain popularity for the artist, is it really art?

"they always say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."

you know, there are five billion people in the world. that's 5,000,000,000 people. and every single one of those people could do as much good in the world as martin luther king, jr. did. the only reason we don't is that we are fixed and bottled up into a situation where only quote-unquote "really good people" are supposed to help people they don't know. but that's not the case. i mean, there will always be problems. that i won't deny. there will always be catastrophes and desperate people and horrifying, near-apocalyptic situations, but people can actually help.
american teenagers look at the world, become disillusioned, and crawl into their bedrooms to smoke weed and worry their parents. THAT DOESN'T WORK. this does.

hands on ears and rocks back and forth in fetal position.

i can't decide whether or not it's okay to be happy.

i know, i know, as soon as you se that sentence you immediately think, "that's ridiculous. of course it's okay to be happy. what is the point of life otherwise?" but...
there are a lot of really, really really awful things in the world. and i have a kind of amazingly perfect life comparatively. see, i like to read cynical people's work. and cynical people love juxtaposing people like me with people like this. and it makes be feel realy badly about my life, because i don't WANT to be the one who escapes the horrendousness as others fall into the fire, but what am i supposed to do? survivor's remorse, i guess.

know what i'd like to do ("do you" is implied)?

lie on the cement in the middle of a thunderstorm, look up, and see a renaissance sculpture of madonna, only moving, floating above my head with all of these white robes floating around her as though suspended in space, then have everything around me explode and go swimming in lemonade.

would anyone care to interpret that?

this blog is really kind of devolving.

so if i were to do as i know you wish, what would become of me? how would i ever be able to face my beloved clown-friends ever again ? i know you do indeed hate the words they speak. this i know. i know you want to crucify us and eat us, but...sometimes i wonder if there is more to life than salt. why are you doing this to me? how could i possibly get you what you want?
very weary-looking woman pushes her stringy greasy hair out of her face and bites down on her old cigarette, looking out the window as weak blue light drifts onto her face.
what do you want with my life? i am not a silly human. i am a PERSON. i have a backstory.

UGH.......