Wild Beasts

I started to realise that I could only function as a human being for maybe half of a year, three quarters at a push. After that I am taken to the world of the dead. Like those zombie movies but everyone kinda just still sees me in this body with my smile, my kindness, my weak heart…

I need to paint. I need to let the brush take me away on my journey. Some other place, a quiet place my own private underworld where my wild beasts are..

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