A Letter From Your Potential

I understand the universe, and so, I can take you away with a sculpture. I can twang the antennae in your mind with a picture of a lie. The ideas you’re afraid to think, I see them. I can paint a picture of yourself on a canvas of me. We’re all just dancing animals looking for the most complimentary mirror, but I can alter your reflection and show you the ‘me’ you’ve always wanted to see.

I figured out the controls behind the curtain and I’m using my knowledge to slam you full of self-actualization. I don’t want a sideshow seat to the tragedy of your life, I am your potential, and I want to copilot you into a brilliant future that would make your parents cry in the best possible way.
Keep going.

There’s a lot going against you, but compared to what you’ve got with you, it ads up to just enough of a breeze to ruffle your hair as you sail toward your true destination. Ride the waves, fight the monsters, they’re what make the books interesting in the first place, so enjoy the fight scenes even when you’re in them and you’re losing.

Put up a fight worth putting on the big screen, because you are. You are God dammit, even if you’re not ready to see it yet. You’re fighting a god damned war within you that would make your parents cry in the worst way. There’s no need to be ashamed of the artillery you’re letting roll off you like water on a duck’s back, smiling in the faces of passersby so they don’t have to bear the brunt of the chaos in your mind, but instead you’re saddling them with the illusion that there is no war in you. That they are alone in their war. Condemning them to this locks you in the same prisons you guard. We are the gatekeepers in the panopticon, but we are also the prisoners.

We can break free.

I can show you the light through the keyhole I’ve made in my cell. For I am an artist. I am a writer of things felt, I speak the words that turn to bricks in your mouth. The singers scream for those who can’t, and for those who don’t know the words, I will write. I will fill the forests with my creations and let you choose the ending. Control isn’t a thing others put on you, it is a yolk you accept because the alternative is effort.

Dance in the shadows, play in the light. There are monsters, but they’re not under your bed, and they like to dance.

We all love to dance.