The world is Monet.
At night.
When colors slip into the sun.
And the lights glow like Christmas.
It’s an Unfinished Picasso.
With people.
Trying to put their confused shapes together.
And make themselves feel whole.
Sometimes it’s Van Gogh.
Angry red.
Drowning in a sea of human ignorance.
And cutting myself to pieces just to stay sane.
The world is Van Gogh
I have a terrible need of — dare I say the word? — religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars… – Vincent Van Gogh, Arles, 1888