Paprika, paint, and focus

When you think you are over something finally. Then something happens, something small and insignificant and dumb but it makes you want to vomit some and it makes you want to cry.

And a bad fucking song is enough to make you crazy.

Once I had a little plant. I loved it very much and cared for it. I had it for several years, two and a half I think. It moved with me I talked to it, I drew it, I painted it and I considered it a part of my strange little collection of things I considered my family. Then one day my little plant got a fungus. I tried to save it but there was no hope and my little plant died.