Picasso and Friends

Could it be a figment of our imagination, a space in time where you can never see them but you just know they’re present?  Could they be simply something we can’t live without like water or the air we breathe, could they be the very subject that hinders us from ever becoming what we set out to be? This unknown entity seems to plague us endlessly, where we lose our own identity. We compromise our thoughts, rationalize their faults, we justify their SIN as crutches, holding their CAIN to walk knowing that they are ABEL. We hold value to this, we them hold over family, we famish over acceptance,  the gluttony behind being wanted we flaunt as the woman of the night do, but do we actually care for such acceptance…do we care? Are friendships really what Picasso painted them to be, then if so… we will never know.