Activities of atticus denny

I am falling apart.
I yearn for nothing more than to use my strong legs to push off the ground once more,
Growing faster with each step, my heart soars with my body.
I wish for nothing more than his.
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I emptied my soul out so I could fill the void with yours
And I thought about you when I brushed my teeth,
I thought about you when I looked at the muddy shoes I used to sneak over your fence in the rain
I thought about you when I drove home from work,
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My mind has been showing reruns for years now and I think I'm starting to get bored of the episodes.
I read books, I consume art, and I study philosophy,
But still I sit in the theater of my headspace ignoring new films in favor of lackadaisical bleak pieces in the name of nostalgia.
I'm yearning for an intellect that can only come with time, a wisdom only gained through experience.
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I'm jealous of other artists.
How can blanket text compare to something as elysian as a visual piece, depicting what mere words simply cannot convey?
Their brushes caress parchment, their pencils lovingly etch beauty into sheets.
The offputting tumult of mashing keys juxtaposed to the relaxing noise of soft brushes making contact with a blank canvas.
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Why Does Life Have To Be So Wonderful?
I wish my life was terrible
I beckon all manner of atrocities into my life.
With every moment of anguish my writing hand grows more steady.
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