In the here and now; are we all just looking to be different? In the here and now when nothing seems to be shocking as much as it used to be. Maybe shocking to the untainted mind but for the rest of us everything just belongs to life and this is what we claim it to be. Life is shocking and if it wouldn’t be; would we be satisfied?
I’ve been searching for sanity and the more I discover it, the less I write. Do we need our past to haunt us to get inspired? There is not much to write if your mind seems content. Even if it isn’t, the urge to be sane pushes the creative mind to a halt.
What we dare to say or not to say. Or maybe it is the urge to be understood. What we write requires to be commonly understood. Or maybe this is death. We ought to draw outside the lines to survive and stay sane; our own sanity and not the commonly understood sanity. For the commonly understood cannot be reality but a false construction of what may be seen as comfortable enough to be ignored.
Shallow minds, no thoughts, no questions, no passion, no desires but false happiness. Empty bodies feeding on commonly understood reality. Lies. Deception. False happiness. The majority.
Suddenly I am petrified to be understood.
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