Styles of Expressionism H.S

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derailedthoughts

He was a tattoo artist by day, a painter by night. He possessed what is commonly known as an addictive personality. Perhaps inherited. He had always been like that. He liked to ink his body. He liked to coat his lungs in smoke. He craved adrenalin rushes. He certainly enjoyed hot cups of coffee. Oh, and his paintings. No one would ever understand how much he loved to paint. And then, one night, a new sort of addiction walked into his life. One that would be more detrimental than any before, and yet none had seemed quite so captivating.

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