Broken pieces of my mind

If you don't exercise your right to think differently, then you never will.

Muse is just word. It's the idea that matters.

Brilliance isn't a thought. It's a natural reaction.

Who am I? It's a better question then, Who are you?

Beyond illness, is a place where the broken wander perfect, but forever flawed. Where tragedy is a state of being. Where beauty is non-exixtant, and pain is common place. Everything is horrific, thus stopping it from being. Everything is a pale shade of green, and nothing is clouded. The world is clear in it unhappiness. Hope doesn't exist, thus making it unnecessary. It is not hell because it is not punishment. It's merely sadness, and all it entails.

White is a canvass. It's nothing until acted upon and then it is what it is. Black is everything, while being nothing. It's an idea waiting to be thought.

Beauty is neither good, nor evil. It is pure devotional neutrality.

This is not a question, because it has no answer.

Sound is universal.

Odd. Crystals mean calm, despite any other persons opinion.