In the end, it is just an unsteady, unsure line from one point to another,
it intersects, merges, diverges and at times just fades away, but it is still just a line that tries to grow, build a pattern maybe, and hide from the meaning that takes shape, yes you may call it art, as if we are an artist, no we are not we are the tools that is used by the real artist, and that line is just a faint shadow of the soul that the artist has drawn;

And we just stare in awe, feeling good and feeling bad, at what we saw…

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