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So I'm not that old, I'm still very much growing up, but I'd say that finally- emerging out of the age where I was suitably characterised as 'angsty' and dare I say it... 'emo', I no longer feel misunderstood. At least, by myself. I quite literally let out a breath as a wrote that because I somehow, with only a very vague plan, (if that) a little coffee shop job and an artistic point-of-view (I'd also like to thank the 150mg of Sertraline I now take daily, bless up g) I have reached a stage where I feel that to be true, and I don't know how many people (my age and far older) could say that. I don't have a proper title for it or any kind of degree to back it up- but if I am now (semi)confidently calling myself an artist, then you could say that I'm trying to figure out what my masterpiece is. I have big dreams but I can't exactly say what. I have something to say but something my Mother once told me on the phone, (and in a moment of clarity I grabbed a rizla & a biro to write it down to keep and remember) sums this up best: "The soul is so rich and words are such a clumsy tool." It might go away but for now, I felt an urge to find catharsis in poetry. If you get what I'm saying this far then, you'll get that I'm not going to try and get you to see in my way, we'll never see the world exactly the same but that's the beauty of trying to express it to each other through art. Plus... my way is kinda cute if you wanted to check it out...
