A Horrible Choice ft. Your Muse
What happens when there's nothing left to say. When all that was to be said has been spoken and all that was never spoken would be a secret. The death of art occurs at this point. The point that's not to be crossed at any cost. Where there are no ideas, where innovation is an impediment to survival, where death inhibits the living. The place where imagination and unreality turn true. The true definition of a writers block, death of an artist, or a post apocalyptic world where the people lose their minds because they're not able to create.
Creativity is not just a job for people, for some its a matter of life and death. If they don't create, they might die. Not because of any romantic claim towards their work but purely because the ghost of the muse haunts them day and night. Refusing to relieve their hosts until they're satisfied. They come in the shape of ideas, situations, inspirations. All the work of these demons trying to possess the souls of countless innocent people. They don't spare anyone and they live long enough to completely possess the individual in such a way that he or she is no longer able to live, as they would not do anything but create .The only way a creative person's demons can be exorcised is by listening to them. Doing exactly as they ask us to do, or else they will kill us, or worse, they won't.
Sometimes though, they leave us. To take hold of some other poor soul. Most people would believe that they have been freed and now rest in complete peace, but what they don't realise is that they have been stripped of their prosperity that they could have achieved when their soul was possessed by the muse. Now, when they finally realise this mishap, they sit in consternation, vexed and dismayed by the desertion of their demons and they finally come to the conclusion that they can't live without them.
This is the irony of creativity, as long as the demon within us forces us to think and grind it out, we hate it but when it decides to pack its bags and leave us, we beg for its wisdom and ideas just as a baby begs its mother for food in soft cries. We can't live with it nor without. Although it is all-consuming and possessive, its necessity is inarguable. We don't chase accolades and success. We want to walk hand in hand with our demons in the park of life, observing, learning and expressing only to later realise that the hand we held was that of an angel's.
Creativity is not just a job for people, for some its a matter of life and death. If they don't create, they might die. Not because of any romantic claim towards their work but purely because the ghost of the muse haunts them day and night. Refusing to relieve their hosts until they're satisfied. They come in the shape of ideas, situations, inspirations. All the work of these demons trying to possess the souls of countless innocent people. They don't spare anyone and they live long enough to completely possess the individual in such a way that he or she is no longer able to live, as they would not do anything but create .The only way a creative person's demons can be exorcised is by listening to them. Doing exactly as they ask us to do, or else they will kill us, or worse, they won't.
Sometimes though, they leave us. To take hold of some other poor soul. Most people would believe that they have been freed and now rest in complete peace, but what they don't realise is that they have been stripped of their prosperity that they could have achieved when their soul was possessed by the muse. Now, when they finally realise this mishap, they sit in consternation, vexed and dismayed by the desertion of their demons and they finally come to the conclusion that they can't live without them.
This is the irony of creativity, as long as the demon within us forces us to think and grind it out, we hate it but when it decides to pack its bags and leave us, we beg for its wisdom and ideas just as a baby begs its mother for food in soft cries. We can't live with it nor without. Although it is all-consuming and possessive, its necessity is inarguable. We don't chase accolades and success. We want to walk hand in hand with our demons in the park of life, observing, learning and expressing only to later realise that the hand we held was that of an angel's.
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