Have you ever seen painted smoke?

2:11 in the morning, jumping around dancing to my favourite tune in the universe, intoxicated on bittersweet red wine in the company of ghosts, phantoms and souls without mates. Paintbrush in hand, painting the most beautiful shit I have ever painted, throwing them in the fire and watching them go BOOM. I have paint on my face and fingertips and am as happy as can be. As they char and turn to painted smoke I realise I am free, never bound to anything that will not be bound to me.