I'm splatters of paint haphazardly flung across a dollar store canvas. I'm empty, curled up aluminum tubes scattered across a cluttered room. I am stains on the floor and an empty bottle of cheap red wine. I'm a cup of once clear water, now muddled with browns and blacks. I am a dirty, crusted up paintbrush. I'm a half smoked cigarette with a lipstick stain on the filter. I am ugly and chaotic and meaningless. I'm splatters of paint on a canvas. And I am priceless.