for those who fear oblivion, i love you and i get you

people will remember
when you are ashes and bones
and all your relics left
were hung on walls
illustrated on libraries
frozen on museums
and passed era to era.

[ i swallowed that
LIVING is the best art
one can offer life
yet one must LIVE
Like a real poet
leaving world
itself a masterpiece]

i adore how brave
Woolf drowned herself
and "let the waves
broke of the shore."
She was brave!
to think that she
couldn't fight any longer,
to think that she
could have been happier
but death means the happiest.
she was brave
to wander crazily away
and abandon hope.

i adore how plath played with fire.
and admitted she was
a smiling woman,
"like the cats who have
nine times to die."
she was brave
to write the best of all ending
by annihilating herself.
she was brave
to die and say
that "dying is an art"
And yes,
She did it exceptionally well.
She did it so it felt like hell.
She did it so it felt like real.
she was brave to admit
that she's confused,
if it's heaven or hell
that decides
if it's heaven or hell
her fate.
"Herr God,
Herr Lucifer".

i adore how Van Gogh
painted his last gasps
and proved that
bullets can be art.
[Maybe] more beautiful than oil!
he was brave
to say that art is to
console those who
Are broken by life
and that he would
rather die with passion
than die in boredom.

[to dwell with human nature
and be extraordinary ordinary
are not viable options]

"La tristesse durera tojours!"

and yes,
i am such a nobody, too!
but your sunflowers belong to you.
and yes,
we are surrounded by poetry
on all sides,
and you are one.
you surround me.
Van Gogh, you surround me.

i adore you, Ozamu
you are well-brave
to admit that you had
never been able
to meet anyone
without accompaniment
of painful smiles,
the buffoonery of defeat.
yes, "the dread of human beings."

the dread of human beings...

so i will meet you all.
and i will be brave.
out there we shall meet.
and talk about art.
talk about poetry.
talk about everything.

teach me-
the ways of LIVING
teach me...

for i also
"Can't even guess myself
what it must be
like to live
the life of human being."

or if we cannot meet
whisper to me as i rage
and fling against life:

Be brave.
Be brave.
Long for art.
Long for noose.
Long for LIVING.

and then i shall say
and "listen to
the old brag of my heart"

"I am. I am. I am."