I have all these bits of inspiration in my head but every time I sit down to let them flow out of my fingers I have technical difficulties, probably somewhere around my shoulder. I have all these words to say and no way to say them. I feel like I'm talking but no sound is coming out. What am I even trying to say? Do I even know? I have such a mess in my mind right now. It's all lines, shadow, and life. It's like a used painter's palette, with colors swirled and splashed together. It's a beautiful mess.
That's what life is, a beautiful mess; but we rarely see the beauty for all the mess. We see clashes and tangles instead of mixing and merging. What if knots were beautiful? What if all our gashes and bleeding wounds were beautiful? What if?
What if, instead of dwelling on the scarring mess of things, we tried to plant new seeds in our piles of dirt? What if we took the old and made it into something new? What if?
What if, instead of standing strong and solitary like lighthouses, we came together? What if we became a community blooming into a beautiful garden? What if we let beauty come from our pain?
It'd be a glorious thing if we could do that.
But being a community that grows together means sharing our weaknesses, fears, and pain. That's the problem, the first step. The first step is admitting you have a problem. That's how it always works, with anything.
It'd be a glorious thing if we could do that.
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