star-eaters:

Honestly, this might sound cheesy but make art. Bring the random words together that does not mean anything to anyone but you. Call it a poem. It is a poem. Cut out pictures from grocery leaflets, paste them on the same paper. Draw dogs with wings, people with wrong anatomies, draw something ugly. It’s fucking art. It belongs to you. You’re the God of it. Write raw words coming from your heart, paint vague shit only you can name, just do it. Art is a way to survive. You can survive. Don’t forget it.