Ritualistic self-destruction is the lifes blood of any artist.
We create because were not content. We create because we have to. We build things people dream of, on canvas or paper or with a musical instrument. Its a need that drives us, a need to improve something.
Or a need to change something, a need to fill a hole, but youre not sure where exactly the hole is.
People who create see the world in a far different way to everyone else. We cant fit in with monotony, we dont fit the mold that the rest of the cookie-cutter world would want us to fit.
The urge to create pulls a lens over our eyes that causes us to see the fractures of our society. As a result, we need to suffer. Because when were not suffering, we start to slink away, we forget we can change things. We forget we dont have to do or say or be whatever everyone else wants us to.
Going through three months of anguish seems worth it when youre dashing the colour across the board, or pouring more words onto the page. Its in creation that we find our happiness. Completing something that makes us feel content is perhaps our greatest joy.
And its sad that we have to bring something into the world that didnt exist in order to smile genuinely.
The creators dilemma is that the worlds we dream up so often seem more like home than everything we can touch or feel or smell. Wed rather live in dreams because in our minds were not so fractured.
It troubles us when we start to feel happy. We forget that we can change the world with the stroke of a pen. If we start to become content with whats around us, then we lose that spark that makes us so unique.
Sometimes I have nothing at all to trouble me. And so I start to think of something that might pain me. Im an emotional masochist, because after a while that blood will drool onto the page, and gravity will pull it correctly into words of the world I want to live in.
I want to write about the things that trouble me right here, but Im frightened because Im not sure exactly who reads these posts. I want to curse those who dont understand my mind. But I dont want anyone to understand my mind, because then I risk becoming just like everything else around me.
I dont want to be a stem cell for the rest of the human race.
These people who see life in such plain, simple terms make my heart bleed. People who cant possibly comprehend breaking societies bonds.
There is a girl I work with who I truly do adore. Shes cute and funny an most importantly, interesting. Shes different, and thats whats attractive about her. Im happy really just to have her in my life, and Id like to get to know her better. If she didnt have a boyfriend, Id probably ask her on a date.
But in the meantime, Im happy to be her friend. Happiness is troubling.
Shes different, like me. Im not sure exactly how or why, but its there. Im not sure if shes a creator or an artist, but I know shes not a clone popped out of the baking tray like all the other black-and-white slips around me.
Another person at work speculated in private that this girl must like me. Their reasoning was the way she speaks to me, the occasional physical contact that happens between us, and the flirtatious laughter.
It didnt occur to this person, that perhaps the thing they were witnessing was just how two people who are different may interact. Were testing waters, pushing boundaries.
Were knocking down walls.
But this person was so sure the girl had a crush on me. They kept telling me, and I kept waving it off. But then the person took it all back later that day, and said I was wrong, she has a boyfriend.
Id never told the person that, -it didnt really seem relevant to what the person had been speculating-.
But my point is, this person had been so adamant about what they had observed, and then they dashed it away all at once. You know why?
Because how could a girl possibly like be romantically interested in someone if she already has a boyfriend?
Thats what society says. And that hurts my brain.
Its a stupid concept, and another one that I hasten to ignore. Being in a relationship doesnt render your sexuality or romanticism inert. Why do people assume it does? Why do people stop flirting or talking with someone when they find out they have a partner?
Does that person have nothing to offer you? Does that person cease to be an interesting exploration? Does that label break chances of romance?
Thats not a world I want to live in. And Im a very jealous person by nature, I shouldnt say things like that, but I will.
As an artist, as a creator, when Im with someone, that self-destruction kicks in, and all I can tell myself is that eventually, this is going to end. Its not important to hang on. You only do so as long as you can. As long as youre inspired. After that, whatever happens, happens.
Suddenly, the a life of polyamory, a life of the ethical slut, become far more interesting.
People exist to inspire us. To learn and to fuel one anothers passions. Why should it be so hard for me to just be alone with someone who isnt my girlfriend, regardless of her relationship status, so long as my intentions are only to explore her for what she may have to offer my life?
She might have within her the answers I need. My desire is only suffering. Pain and tears for a while, and then an island of artistic expression within a sea of agony.
I dont understand the world.
I just want to have you here, while I want you, before I destroy my lust for exploration because it frightens me. I might want to hold you, I might want to kiss you. But I wont.
Because Im not supposed to.
But all I need from you is whats inside. Open up and let me see your scars. Let me feel your pain and show me a what you want in the world so I can make it for you.
Maybe then, youll see inside of me.
But you dont want to. None of you want to.
Youre all afraid you might fall in love with it.
We create because were not content. We create because we have to. We build things people dream of, on canvas or paper or with a musical instrument. Its a need that drives us, a need to improve something.
Or a need to change something, a need to fill a hole, but youre not sure where exactly the hole is.
People who create see the world in a far different way to everyone else. We cant fit in with monotony, we dont fit the mold that the rest of the cookie-cutter world would want us to fit.
The urge to create pulls a lens over our eyes that causes us to see the fractures of our society. As a result, we need to suffer. Because when were not suffering, we start to slink away, we forget we can change things. We forget we dont have to do or say or be whatever everyone else wants us to.
Going through three months of anguish seems worth it when youre dashing the colour across the board, or pouring more words onto the page. Its in creation that we find our happiness. Completing something that makes us feel content is perhaps our greatest joy.
And its sad that we have to bring something into the world that didnt exist in order to smile genuinely.
The creators dilemma is that the worlds we dream up so often seem more like home than everything we can touch or feel or smell. Wed rather live in dreams because in our minds were not so fractured.
It troubles us when we start to feel happy. We forget that we can change the world with the stroke of a pen. If we start to become content with whats around us, then we lose that spark that makes us so unique.
Sometimes I have nothing at all to trouble me. And so I start to think of something that might pain me. Im an emotional masochist, because after a while that blood will drool onto the page, and gravity will pull it correctly into words of the world I want to live in.
I want to write about the things that trouble me right here, but Im frightened because Im not sure exactly who reads these posts. I want to curse those who dont understand my mind. But I dont want anyone to understand my mind, because then I risk becoming just like everything else around me.
I dont want to be a stem cell for the rest of the human race.
These people who see life in such plain, simple terms make my heart bleed. People who cant possibly comprehend breaking societies bonds.
There is a girl I work with who I truly do adore. Shes cute and funny an most importantly, interesting. Shes different, and thats whats attractive about her. Im happy really just to have her in my life, and Id like to get to know her better. If she didnt have a boyfriend, Id probably ask her on a date.
But in the meantime, Im happy to be her friend. Happiness is troubling.
Shes different, like me. Im not sure exactly how or why, but its there. Im not sure if shes a creator or an artist, but I know shes not a clone popped out of the baking tray like all the other black-and-white slips around me.
Another person at work speculated in private that this girl must like me. Their reasoning was the way she speaks to me, the occasional physical contact that happens between us, and the flirtatious laughter.
It didnt occur to this person, that perhaps the thing they were witnessing was just how two people who are different may interact. Were testing waters, pushing boundaries.
Were knocking down walls.
But this person was so sure the girl had a crush on me. They kept telling me, and I kept waving it off. But then the person took it all back later that day, and said I was wrong, she has a boyfriend.
Id never told the person that, -it didnt really seem relevant to what the person had been speculating-.
But my point is, this person had been so adamant about what they had observed, and then they dashed it away all at once. You know why?
Because how could a girl possibly like be romantically interested in someone if she already has a boyfriend?
Thats what society says. And that hurts my brain.
Its a stupid concept, and another one that I hasten to ignore. Being in a relationship doesnt render your sexuality or romanticism inert. Why do people assume it does? Why do people stop flirting or talking with someone when they find out they have a partner?
Does that person have nothing to offer you? Does that person cease to be an interesting exploration? Does that label break chances of romance?
Thats not a world I want to live in. And Im a very jealous person by nature, I shouldnt say things like that, but I will.
As an artist, as a creator, when Im with someone, that self-destruction kicks in, and all I can tell myself is that eventually, this is going to end. Its not important to hang on. You only do so as long as you can. As long as youre inspired. After that, whatever happens, happens.
Suddenly, the a life of polyamory, a life of the ethical slut, become far more interesting.
People exist to inspire us. To learn and to fuel one anothers passions. Why should it be so hard for me to just be alone with someone who isnt my girlfriend, regardless of her relationship status, so long as my intentions are only to explore her for what she may have to offer my life?
She might have within her the answers I need. My desire is only suffering. Pain and tears for a while, and then an island of artistic expression within a sea of agony.
I dont understand the world.
I just want to have you here, while I want you, before I destroy my lust for exploration because it frightens me. I might want to hold you, I might want to kiss you. But I wont.
Because Im not supposed to.
But all I need from you is whats inside. Open up and let me see your scars. Let me feel your pain and show me a what you want in the world so I can make it for you.
Maybe then, youll see inside of me.
But you dont want to. None of you want to.
Youre all afraid you might fall in love with it.