Sometimes, I Muse

The Search for Originality

Sometimes I feel like everything I write just reminds me of something else I read, or heard in a song, or a movie, or somewhere else. And sometimes I just feel like everything is one giant conglomeration of all the art and stories we have shared across time and history. Just all morphing together like a giant deformed monster. Everything just copied and pasted, sliced, diced, edited, and slapped together like a f***ing behemoth chimera sitting in the desert laughing at all of us fools trying to find something of value to piece together from the chaos. Something original, some truth to what we think and say - to what we feel, to what we do. And sometimes all I can seem to pick out of that damn pulsating collage of a chimera statue are little tendrils. They spiral out like spiderweb silk and then evaporate before I can grab onto anything that feels real and tangible.