Today I'm going to a party a friend of mine has invited me. It is a graduation party. While getting dressed, I decided to sit down, pour some coffee into my mug, and start writing today's post.

And there's something very beautiful about being alive, suffering, laughing, and being tired of everything and everyone. I don't know why, I think it is just the nature of the human being.

Most people fail to understand that being alive is not about being happy, but about living a life worth living. A nice piece of art can only shine with the right contrast.

I am unemployed right now. I used to work at an art gallery, but the art market in my country isn't as heated as it used to be.

And therefore I wonder, why are we alive? What makes life interesting? Is it the story? The worldly pleasures? Sex, drugs, and money? Experiences? Mushrooms? Working long hours? Having kids?

May I interrupt myself, because my rant is not going anywhere today. My rant represents a journey to feel something right now because I am alive. And there is, indeed, some kind of beauty in writing nonsense late at night, knowing that 3 or maybe 5 people will read this post. But it makes me feel special.

I would feel even more special if I had a glass of wine with me, a nice suit dressing my body, and French music playing calmly. But that's not the case.

I have coffee. Cheap coffee, and normal clothes on right now. Also, I don't have fucking french music playing, because I lost my earphones.

But at least I have my small, rented department in the most beautiful city in my state. I have a computer, an acoustic guitar, and a goth girlfriend living by my side. I really can't complain. Women can truly bring valuable and wholesome experiences.

You know what would make me even more happy? What would make my life worth living? Having my own art gallery, hanging out with nice people, drinking alcohol, getting to know more people, having new experiences (if you know what I mean), and being fucking rich just by negotiating art. That would be nice.

Oh, and also, growing mushrooms.

But don't get me wrong, I am happy with the way my life is right now. Because I suffer so much, in such a romantic and poetic way, that even my sadness can mean fulfillment and growth.

Thanks for reading.

Stoots :]