It was the accumulation of the background, the clothes, the smoke, and the general physique of him. I had to go up to him. I had to take a picture. I felt the overwhelming urge to do so, or else I couldn't call myself a photographer. Appreciate this, because I almost got punched to get it.
"What do you regret?"
He rambled for a bit, his answers scattered and much more sincere then I could possible suspect.
"Err, that's kinda a loaded question. What do I regret the most? I mean-...we all regret stuff, right? That girl you didn't talk to in school...the fact you didn't work hard enough at something. Don't you think it's a bit-..I dunno. A bit of a negative outlook to ask something like that? Why not the thing you regretted least?
But-...anyway, sorry. Tangent." he knitted his brows together as he tried to think further, brain racking around his head before he parted his lips to speak, "I...suppose the most regretful was...being born to a pair of artists." he muttered, "I love being a creative person, don't get me wrong...but shit. It was a rough childhood." he said with a shake of his head, "I guess I have them to blame for me wanting to make my body into a damn canvas too."
(ft. Nitroxin)
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