I guess this had been a long time coming. I mean, even though I have been writing more these past 6 months than I have in a long time, I haven’t really done this. Share my thoughts on a public forum. Partly because I developed the notion that doing so was a foolish idea. Why do we want to talk about our feelings and write them down in beautiful words so we can share them with everyone. Like going to the supermarket naked. It makes you vulnerable. It should make you vulnerable. And why would any decent, self-respecting individual do that to himself? I’d wondered about this for quite some time; and then something happened.
Well, life! Life happened. Or shit happened. Whichever sounds better to you. Life is shitty, people are shitty, what’s shittier is the stuff most people talk about. If you’re an average person, like me, you’d be subjected to incessant rants about mundane, ruthlessly pointless issues most of the time. Mostly there will be nothing that you could do about it. Soon, you’re so neck deep in everyday life that you become oblivious to this chatter. But what was my point? Ah, yes. Life! See, life is shitty, no doubt. But what makes us love it behind a facade of righteous loathing is the wonderful amazement of its workings. Most shitty situations end in teaching you an important, often but not always life-altering, lesson. But you already know that, don’t you?
What happened with me was that sometimes on days of undying chatter, I’d be gifted with an opportunity to come across a wonderful thing. A wonderfully amazing person maybe, sometimes a wise-cracking kid on the streets, a touching sight that you can only witness on a detour, funny graffiti.. There’s millions of amazing sights out there in the world. And that’s my point. Life only seems shitty. But beyond that, beyond what we have defined for our conveniences, lies beauty. We all love appreciating things of beauty don’t we? We look beyond the mundane, the “right and normal”, we bring life to the arts.
We are the misfits after all. And that’s when I stopped wondering and realized that art, no matter how much pain it causes, or how vulnerable it leaves us, must always be nurtured. Because the point of making art, making yourself immortal through your talents is not fame, or sanity or redemption. The point of art is to inspire. A second’s look at a splendid graffiti could turn my shitty day around. So take on the vulnerability when it strikes, because your art soothes someone else. Some magnificent soul in some part of the world. You shall have touched him, reached out to him in a manner you cannot fathom. In that, lies your redemption.
So this is to us misfits. Please, nurture your art. It is your child, your first-born. You must forget about everything else when you’re with it, on it, in it. You would lose some friends, yes. But you owe it to the Universe. It was here first.
Let your gift consume you.
That is all.