I am tired of trying to explain to people the subtleties and nuances of creativity.
Why must everything be so clean?
To be beautiful, one does not need to rationalize
So why do you prioritize the normalcy
Of what is now and what has been?
It all just changes in the end.
I can see that not all things
Are so clear and so tidy;
So why hide in the illusion
Of your world of absolution,
When nothing is certain?
Over the rainbow,
All colours explode into ashen haze.
And the visions I see
From the gift unique to me
Can only be ignored and hated,
And later debated,
Then thrown to the dogs.
So my refusal
To do the usual
Is founded in your lack
Of intelligent thought.
I wrote this after having to defend yet another creative work of a friend of mine. They all kept asking questions like, "What's the point?" There isn't always a point. There doesn't have to be a point. It's from the heart and mind, it's not logical. It just is.
We are losing our humanity.