catharsis … … …

when he scribbled, he was happy. happy not with a sense of glee or joyfulness, but simply happy. when he scribbled, he was at peace. not with the world, nor with the cruel reality encroaching, he was at peace with himself. when he scribbled, he was whole, not complete in a material sense, he was whole inside. when he scribbled, he cried, not because he was sad, nor sorrowful, he cried because he could. he cried because he could scribble on … … …

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