omniartist

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)

Tragic LOve I am a child of tragic love not a minute a moment a day, a year a life - did I ever live in such bright agonizing distain. So tragic is a love with regret. A love that tied my heart in thorns left beating with every pulse stuck and pricked with every breath... You said you love me and with every word - you struck me murderously. left bloody in the grammatical litany, of the simple words thee threw, and drawn on me. You'd say "love" and then "You." how you made old so new. Why must words speak. leak so tragically solid truth. bleeding out in the lies and deception. You slew me Slay

does art have boundaries? and the guy replies with his answer, yes it does... so here is my lengthy answer, of what I think.... or should I say? the essay I wrote. lol. (I'm such a dork) I would have to disagree... I believe art in it's purist form, should be limitless, is limitless, and therefore boundless, i.e. no boundaries. If we are talking about taboos, and whether or not animals or cells have taboos... well that's debated down to what is your definition of "taboo." because taboo is based in cultural normality (no matter what that might be in any given/specific culture your discussing) and/or societal moral standards... the taboo woul