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Liberated Deception

I don’t even really know what I get out of lying to myself. I say I’m going to ‘clean a room’, when in the back of my mind, I know that I have absolutely no intent to do this. It’s a dysfunctional, leftover, auto-response, I used to give my ex-girlfriend, while I was doing art. It turns out, Whenever I plan on any level, to clean something: What I actually mean is that I’m going to make a mess, and a masterpiece. When I look around, after the day has passed, I feel terrible. My sense of self worth is harshly defeated by the fact that I haven’t accomplished any of the tasks I even made myself believe I set out to accomplish. The part of me which controls the passion, deceives the part of myself with a desire to be of practical worth. Though my art is undoubtedly amazing, it also holds little to no monetary value. Maybe when I told myself I was going to clean, what I actually meant was that I was going to de-clutter my mind of all the ideas that have formed, and are bouncing all around inside my soul, begging to be free.

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Eyedea
wrecktangle
Kismet Witstatic
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