Debauchery
The arts. A powerful, exaggerated, often colorful way of expressing oneself.
At least, that's what I thought when I took that paint brush in my hand... I never thought it would lead to my own undoing, lead to my very death. Ah, how could I be seen as a heretic, by the very god I worshipped?
Art is a powerful, exaggerated, often colorful way of expressing oneself.
It is also a tool that leads to one's own demise.
She stared past me, I could tell she was. I don't know what she was seeing, but it wasn't me. It was somebody else. A firmilliar face, or a stranger, there was no way in hell I was gonna turn around and look. No way, no fucking way. She could stare all she wanted, but I would never look at the person that stole her from