Clouded Clarity

I hope that I can make it. I’ve been hoping for a long time now. I see what is being done, what the “right way” to do things is. It much like a pilot’s checklist, ensuring me that I’ve got all that I need. Or do I need more?

As I stroke my ego with every stroke of the pen on my to-do list, I am more and more disillusioned by the sheer amount of work I have set forth to undertake. However, I had stumbled. I had reached an obstacle which never came on my list. Ever. Not in the years I have been conforming to society have I seen this new task. Was it a task? Have I already made progress into completing this task?

The task was simple. Be more creative. But I was never told to do so. Even then, I had composed music, took new approaches to assignments, and, well, that’s it, really. Nothing really amounted of my compositions. My perpetual hammer was taking all the self-critical hits it could get. It still is. So maybe I do have a scapegoat for this lack of creativity, lack of bold, risk-taking voyageur attitude.

It seems fun, however, to be bold. I am not confined to some arbitrary constraint imposed by myself. There is no saying if one way is better or my way is worse. I take all the brush strokes I want with any colour I want and paint a grand masterpiece of absolute stunning beauty that I can appreciate in pride. It’s for me, not others. I learn for myself, not for anyone else. And from that, I should do work for myself.

I can no longer be restricted to this “arbitrary constraint”. I will dance. I will dance through the lines of words, not fixating on the position of a “that” or the phrasing with commas, or the subtle syllabic meter, or not using “” in a sentence because I can do so in creative environments and I do not have to be, by all means, through all plains, across all planes, through the deepest midst of the universe, “constrained”.

Yes, it’s an art. And with art comes discipline. Though I must be careful to separate this discipline from rigidity. When all becomes static is when life ceases. That’s why calculus is not a static math discipline. Even paleontologists are not static. They probably imagine this colossal timeline coming to life with all their dinosaur friends yipping and yapping to their heart’s content. Then I should be less static; even the people into rocks are doing it.

Dynamic. What is this word? Movement. What is this too? I do not understand. If I could, I would. But I could not, so I cannot. Therefore, I will not. I suppose so then, if I may, that I make this work, I do this, with some ingenuity I can, and I should. But then I may not, for the detriment of happenstance, happen to bump into my fate, my calling, my inevitability. Then I cannot and never will. Never will. So be it, I will be it, carrying on towards the distance, dreaming of something, anything, everything, so powerful and yet distant, onwards, bright light shining at me, shone, has shone, maybe too it will shine, it can shine. It is definitely shining. Oh yes. Yes it is.


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