100 Colours

Watching my thoughts go by and by, like a work of art constantly evolving in a chaotic structure, to nowhere specifically, with no sense apparently.

I put down the brush and look behind the canvas. And as I look, 100 colours drip from my fingers and colour my soul. They dance. This is the first work of art that I can truly call mine – not a copy of my favourite impressions, but my own visceral creation.

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