Art speaks from the soul. A lost memory found.

Art speaks from the soul. Suffer it a voice. It stands to reason:

I need to get out of this fear bubble someone has put around me. Don’t ask questions. Don’t question god. Who told you that shit and made you afraid of your own mind? Is my freedom bothering you? I am here as you are. When I hear the advice of those who I do not share a foundational belief with all I can do is accept it and move on. Never have I told anyone they were wrong. Truth is, you don’t know just like I don’t know. All any of us can do is believe in what we believe in and base our lives upon it.

Is it so hard to believe I exist on another plane of thought? Why is everyone so impressed until I cannot put a label on myself, then they are scared for me? I am fine with being free – what I am not fine with is always having to explain it. I see a world of talkers and not doers. I am guilty of not doing. Nothing else I would rather do than NOT DO. But this has to change – I see this in myself because my life is so very uncomfortable. Something has to change or I will not survive. That is not unreligious nor religious. It is just a reality I do not have to be pious about because my piety is my existence in itself.

My spiritual life was founded on ghosts in pews screaming and dancing and I will always love that. What those ghosts and dances told me was that I could think and then know anything I wanted to. That I came from a god who made no mistakes and therefore I was saved! Let the choir sing! My teacher alone corrects me so I do not feel I need a church full of ghosts these days to convince and shape my thoughts. When I was young I was innocent and that’s when I got my gift, I don’t need anything else.