Drinking a bottle of Dorian Grey
Competitively melancholy, he aged like Charles Bukowski. He learned how to tie his tie, from Hunter S. Thompson. He took notes from Hamlet and dreamed he might be the next Kurt Cobain. All the sadness he could muster couldn’t make him frown, Because unlike all of them, he felt he knew the problem. The solution could be quite simple if we all stopped living as if alone. We just had to start living as if we were all in one painting together.
That doesn’t mean we have to all get along. Quite the contrary, because the grim reaper is in our painting too.
