My name is Work

So sometimes I look at these and I think hey why not a different color?  Well of course that would take some effort.  I'd have to open a new bottle.  I'd have to decide which bottle to open.  I might not like it when I did that.  I'd have to argue with myself about it.  No, this is a good color I guess.

Well, you could change the composition, what about doing that?  I'm not exactly sure what you are saying.  This isn't a composition.  It doesn't have one.  It doesn't approve of them either.  

Hey. Come on.  This is the same as the last one...!  Well I don't think so.  I think it's better.  And it was painted later, like maybe 10 minutes later. Or maybe it was earlier.   In fact it is telling me something.  I'm not quite sure what though.

And this is a tiny bit different sort of.  Ah no it ain't.  it's part of the endless procession of these guys.  They tell me, each moment, to keep doing them to keep making them,  that though the future doesn't exist, that though each inspirational moment is followed by crushing defeat,  that even though they exist only in some transient moment of keeping sadness in abeyance, it helps somehow, it keeps corruption an death away for another second.

Hello my friend.  Where did you come from?  And who are you?