this is the color of my room

there is so much to learn. but i am too craven to choose a path and let go of the other beauties of the world. should it always be that way? yes, because time is scarce.

which then do i choose

the field of art? to be always in the inspired, nirvanic state, stoned with human emotions. the self—sexed, deviant, self-destructive, starving. to fill my room with the smell of linseed oil and turpentine. and a-scattered on the floor are unfinished poems of pompous words and ideas.
i will be enamored with my creations. and my artworks will stare back at me.

or the other side? understanding rationality, singularity, and the philosophy in technological forecasting. learning and loving the rigidness of artificial intelligence. where logic is my poetry. and eliezer yudkowsky is my e.e. cummings.

or the simple happiness of a socialized life?

fuck time.