by Saint Dirty Face

Chaos everywhere.

Glitter explodes on the cat—

Some people chase meaning in the stars.

Art? Or just Thursday?

Some in spreadsheets.

Some in the quiet between prayers.

Me?

I find it in the mess.

In the broken lamp.

In the spilled coffee.

In the glitter that had no business being near a living creature.

Because life doesn’t arrive clean.

It kicks the door in, knocks over your plans, and leaves sparkle on things that were never meant to shine.

And we still ask—

Is this a masterpiece…

or just another night trying not to fall apart?

Here’s the truth they don’t print on throw pillows:

You don’t need a vision board.

You need permission to laugh when the universe trips.

So if tonight feels loud, ridiculous, unhinged—

good.

It means you’re still here.

Still standing in the debris, choosing wonder over bitterness.

Still breathing.

Glitter on the cat.

Chaos on the floor.

And you?

Still creating—

even when you swear you’re not.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Saint Dirty Face™

Stay Dirty, Stay Human™

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––