things aren’t always so black and white, or so they say. sometimes things are ink blotty and bleeding through the edges.

the people that surround us, whether they be friends or strangers, pose as reflections – a way to see ourselves mirrored, or projected. helps us improve or grow or move on to become. just become. what happens to a recluse though? i’m guessing… they just become an echo of their former selves.

I don’t really wanna be an echo. I just wanna draw it.