I've been thinking. After watching What Is Beauty? on the BBC it's finally dawned on me the pointlessness of art and the actual beauty of real life. A lot of the time I prefer art to life, but art fails completely when it comes to trying to create life. We can't write people because we are people. So then art only succeeds when we're trying to get away from life, but can't truly achieve that either. We are us. We are here. We are all I and no matter what we're reading or what we're staring at that never changes.