VvG

I tell you, if one wants to be active, one must not be afraid of going wrong, one must not be afraid of making mistakes now and then. Many people think that they will become good just by doing no harm — but that's a lie, and you yourself used to call it that. That way lies stagnation, mediocrity. Just slap anything on when you see a blank canvas staring you in the face like some imbecile. You don't know how paralyzing that is, that stare of a blank canvas is, which says to the painter, You can't do a thing. The canvas has an idiotic stare and mesmerises some painters so much that they turn into idiots themselves. Many painters are afraid in front of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas is afraid of the real, passionate painter who dares and who has broken the spell of 'you can't' once and for all.

My apologies for the length of that last post... but the memory has been haunting me quite viciously the last few days.
His words... that exchange of words where he mentions the red dress... reverberate in my head.
I can still see his eyes... so big and wide (he DID have pretty eyes... even if I didn't like him like that--even while I was his girlfriend), as he spoke to me.
I can still hear his scratchy voice... like that of a cartoon character... with a slight lisp.
I can still remember that game of hide-and-seek.
It pains me.

Often times, I get the urge to visit him... but... I've never visited anyone in prison... so I don't know how that would go down.
I also do that thing where I wonder what life would have been like if I would have cared more about him. He showed me his gentle side, yet I was that bitch who was too... embarrassed? apathetic? to associate with him.
Who knows, maybe he would have taken me down with him...
Can't think of the other possible outcomes... or else I bum myself out.
I just hope he's ok, and that he has found some sort of peace.
I'll always remember the sweet boy, that's for sure.

...
Speaking of being sad, I finally got the green light to get inked.
Yeah. Seriously. Ain't that shit crazy?
I was reading up on the life of van Gogh, you know, because life isn't depressing enough, and Mom came over.
I then read to her my favorite quote of his.
Me: Can you guess what this means: La tristesse durera toujours.
Mom stared at me with a frown on her face.
Me: I love that quote. I'm going to get it on my body.
Mom: ...
Me: Because... nothing rings truer for me.
Mom: ... I didn't know.
Me: I haven't gotten it yet, lady.
Mom: No, I didn't know you felt that way. You think sadness will last forever?
Me: In some part of my heart, yeah. Always.

We then sat there talking about the placement and stuff of that nature.
It was that simple.

Happy Mother's Day to her...