Beauty
Beauty. It isn't about shiny hair, trendy clothes or the piercing blue contacts. It's about big colorgul caterillars evolving into magnificent butterflies. It's aobut dreaming. Dreaming of rainbow colored stars and swirled and tripped-out planets. It's about fields of wildflowers and a large vivid sun over-head. It's about mushrooms and ferns, aliens and dragonflies. Beauty is dreaming of nature. Dreaming of rainbows invading every aspect and creating great fantasy. It's my version of utopia. Peace, rainbows, love, mushrooms and butterflie. It's my inspiration. But don't confuse me with some strug-out hippie, labels are for fake society beauty. Bo out to a big field with a pen, some paper and and open imagination. Then yu will feel more beautiful than some super model with moreeating disorders than there are colors in the rainbow. Bring along some magic mushrooms or go out sober, but either way - go alone. You will not grasp the whole dream is someone is trying to make you go back. Lay back in the grass, listen to the crickets' song and just daydream. It's better than any drug out there. But then again, dreming and writing is my drug of choice.