[ so what happens when you wake up early, get lit and go outside for a morning walk on the beach for your daily inspiration? you start seeing the world like a canvas and get thrusted a paint brush with your favorite color. is this weird? no, this is gamzee being so effortlessly detached from reality that this is all just another day of THE LORDāS THOUGHTS BEING POURED INTO MY BRAIN.
looks like the little paint dude wants him to go somewhere. freely, gamzee lets the brush lead him to a blank wall. and then he just sort of
stands there
for two hours
before finally taking the brush, closing his eyes and clapping his hands together before muttering a single word of mirth: viva šš». and thus, proceeds to paint. he probably didnāt see you there! or if he does, heāll hold his hand up in a lazy sort of wave, managing eye contact for . . . an uncomfortable period of time before finally dragging out: ]
[ letās be real: gamzee wouldāve painted all day. he wouldāve painted until he fell asleep again, but his little brush dude was just so tired (ātiredā) it ran away from him. aw. maybe he had some other motherfucker to enlighten. thatās okay. you go spread the lordās work, lilā man, he totally gets it.
in the mean time, itās time to paint the face and space out on all the colors for a little while longer. everythingās just so perfect today. gamzee counts himself blessed every five minutes, every minute when he forgets he already said blessed a minute ago. this inspiration has been the best one heās gotten since he was a chico. ahā
ahhhhh, ahhh! aha.
he feels words coming, a beat so slick people are going to start slip and sliding right past him like crocodile mile. with his bass guitar slung over his shoulder and his case open for tips, he starts up on a little warm up tune that sounds eerily like circus themed jams, he then immediately switches into the grand act: a song about fucking the system.
cash in some change for this performer? thereās a paper in his guitar case that reads: request your heart out and iāll give it a spin :o) gracias ]
ļ¼¢ļ¼Æļ¼®ļ¼µļ¼³
[ hello poor soul, you are now connected to GAMZEE MAKARA. say hi! ]
heyyyy what is good my whimsically chosen hermano and or hermana my compadres from other madres which we all share the same in our hearts a million and ton birthdays that paint our lives with holy arts hahaha
gamzee makara šŖ #2b0057 :o)
ļ¼© ā ļ¼°ļ¼”ļ¼©ļ¼®ļ¼“ ļ¼ļ¼„
[ so what happens when you wake up early, get lit and go outside for a morning walk on the beach for your daily inspiration? you start seeing the world like a canvas and get thrusted a paint brush with your favorite color. is this weird? no, this is gamzee being so effortlessly detached from reality that this is all just another day of THE LORDāS THOUGHTS BEING POURED INTO MY BRAIN.
looks like the little paint dude wants him to go somewhere. freely, gamzee lets the brush lead him to a blank wall. and then he just sort of
stands there
for two hours
before finally taking the brush, closing his eyes and clapping his hands together before muttering a single word of mirth: viva šš». and thus, proceeds to paint. he probably didnāt see you there! or if he does, heāll hold his hand up in a lazy sort of wave, managing eye contact for . . . an uncomfortable period of time before finally dragging out: ]
Isnāt it beautiful?
ļ¼©ļ¼©ļ¼©ā ļ¼°ļ¼¬ļ¼”ļ¼¹ ļ¼” ļ¼³ļ¼¬ļ¼Æļ¼°ļ¼°ļ¼¹ ļ¼¢ļ¼”ļ¼³ļ¼³ļ¼¬ļ¼©ļ¼®ļ¼„
[ letās be real: gamzee wouldāve painted all day. he wouldāve painted until he fell asleep again, but his little brush dude was just so tired (ātiredā) it ran away from him. aw. maybe he had some other motherfucker to enlighten. thatās okay. you go spread the lordās work, lilā man, he totally gets it.
in the mean time, itās time to paint the face and space out on all the colors for a little while longer. everythingās just so perfect today. gamzee counts himself blessed every five minutes, every minute when he forgets he already said blessed a minute ago. this inspiration has been the best one heās gotten since he was a chico. ahā
ahhhhh, ahhh! aha.
he feels words coming, a beat so slick people are going to start slip and sliding right past him like crocodile mile. with his bass guitar slung over his shoulder and his case open for tips, he starts up on a little warm up tune that sounds eerily like circus themed jams, he then immediately switches into the grand act: a song about fucking the system.
cash in some change for this performer? thereās a paper in his guitar case that reads: request your heart out and iāll give it a spin :o) gracias ]
ļ¼¢ļ¼Æļ¼®ļ¼µļ¼³
[ hello poor soul, you are now connected to GAMZEE MAKARA. say hi! ]
heyyyy
what is good my whimsically chosen hermano and or hermana
my compadres
from other madres which we all share the same in our hearts
a million and ton birthdays that paint our lives with holy arts
hahaha