Does he?

Swirling confusion
swirling like a spoon stirring marshmallows into hot chocolate
whirling like a blizzard
filling my eyes, ears, and nose with ice cold snow
questions spin around me
"maybe"s circle and taunt me
they laugh at me
they fill my every moment

What is the answer?
Where can I find it?
When will I find it?

Does no one care?
Does no one see
That this is killing me?

I need to know
I'm so confused
What is the answer?

Does he?

strangers meet

She is an artist. Her life is just creating.

He is a person without much sense of relating.

She loves what she does and does it a lot.

He walked in and at once she was caught.

He glided right by for only a second.

It only took a second for her cheeks to redden.

It took him awhile but at last he saw.

He asked and she said yes.

They exchanged an idea. They both seemed compliant.

They tossed it around and then they were silent.

He said no. She said okay.

He said sorry and they parted ways.

Two strangers have met and exchanged a mutually shared idea. That's all they do: simply, share a small something. They meet. They exchange. They part.

empty

    Have you ever felt like you'd rather just not? Have you ever felt like there was air flowing through your insides; like there was nothing that could make you go? Have you ever wanted to just go in a clean white closet and close the doors to the noise? To see the clear, soft light streaming through a crack and to just be simply fascinated by it for what seems like an eternity, is to feel time pass you by. As time swirls around you, you close your eyes and don't care...do you?
     It's like you're in a daydream. It's like you can't wake up. Out of this stupor comes only a thin flow of something. That glorious stream is called, "creativity". Words, colors, and sounds flow freely and begin to form ideas. These rapidly formed ideas flitter around but briefly and then disappear...
     But you don't care...do you?
     Because, you're empty; you are merely a shell through which ideas fly.

Expressionism

    I am enamored with Expressionism. I am fascinated by emotions and the human reaction to emotions. It is such a vital part of being human and many times it can be overlooked and passed over for impressions of the external world. Expressionism being a style of art focusing on the emotional experience, I find an interest in this style. I find an interest in examining my own emotions and in studying other's reactions so that I might catch a glimpse of their emotions as well.
     It holds such beauty in that our emotions can go anywhere and in a world where many things are so confined, freedom and space are what I crave. I like to believe that emotions and imagination go hand in hand. What we can believe depends on our emotions. Our emotions are reactions and our imagination is a reaction to these reactions. Thus, it is also true that imagination influences our emotions as well. What we imagine creates an emotion by our mind reacting to what we have created. It continues on and on, emotion and imagination, imagination and emotion, etc.
      Thus, when I see other's reactions to myself, I can see what they are feeling as well as imagining. If emotions are reactions then, other people's reactions can give a glimpse of what they are imagining.
       Enough of this intelligent mumbo-jumbo...
I enjoy exploring and employing Expressionism because I am fascinated by emotions.

Creation

I want to create. I want to grow things. I want to plant seeds of thought in people's minds. I want to express a single feeling in a multitude of words and a multitude of feelings in a single word. My words spill forth in a burble as if an exuberant stream. I can't stop them. I can't stifle them.