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Half There, Half Here
I already wrote about confronting chaos. I wonder how many people dwell inside themselves to engage with the sea of the unconscious. Not many, I suppose… there is this fear of being dissolved and disappearing.
Though nothing happens with the genie, he just becomes free from the bottle…
No matter the case, still everybody maintains the desire to be perceived as they truly are… and by truly, I mean honest and free; or at least they keep the desire to be connected to whatever these words represent. Everybody wants to be in tune with the infinite. Yet, they painstakingly, sometimes to the extent of inner and outward violence, try to cling to the opposite. I guess its the space of nothing that scares us the most.
But here comes the artist. *by artist, writer, of course, means arrogant self.
He borrows the flute of your imagination and plays the tune. The tune belongs to the artist. But you as a flute experience it all the same as your own. If the artist is genuine enough, he can feel how the tune of society, culture, and even your mind can develop in the future. He can extend the melody and lead you into any realm of unknown and undiscovered yet by you. Sometimes the flute helps the artist discover something he otherwise could not discover alone.
