What’s Free

There’s so much of artistry
Where can there be a place for me?
With bitterness I lace my words
To quell the death I’ve chosen
As if it puts me with the birds
To lace my quill with poison
But I know myself afraid of heights
And that we create our greatest plights
Yet I don’t know what to do
When everything that I could be
Always seems to look like you
And I have no clue what would look like me
So instead I merely take what’s free
And try to turn it into artistry.

14 thoughts on “What’s Free

  1. Sometimes the thought pulls one in like quicksand – of the dozens of billions who have been here before us, surely many have had these exact same ideas about this same situation. So much for our vaunted original thinking, huh?

    Hold on, though! Exactly these thoughts about these exact circumstances? Probably not, actually. When you consider life’s astounding complexity, and the infinite variety from person-to-person, the odds are that lightening does strike in our lives. For some, of course, more so than it does for others.

    Even when we’re predictable and even trite, so what? Nothing to be ashamed of it those thoughts are genuine and that they arise from us being true to ourselves.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Maybe. For me, triteness is a kind of kryptonite. I loathe being cliche; novelty, some slight degree of uniqueness, seems my only redeeming quality. And yet, I’m not half as unique as I might hope. But neither am I as sincere as I should be. My identity has long revolved around accepting and being mindful of others; But from what I can tell, you cannot do so without disfiguring your own soul in the process.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Your only redeeming quality…or just one of many, Rachel? What of your creativity, your sensitivity and your kindness? Then there’s lyricism and your ability to craft poetry that don’t rhyme. Loyalty. Oh, of course – your intelligence too. Allied to that, yet distinct, is your wit… Shall I continue?

        If you aren’t all that plus a double-chocolate cookie. what have I been doing all these years? Wouldn’t I have made friends by now with one of the other 37 trillion other people on the internet? Don’t misjudge yourself, Rachel. After reading my recipes since earlier in the century, you should know I’m all about sourcing the highest quality.

        By the way, I share your disdain for triteness. I’ve been known to take a contrary course merely because “everyone” is doing the opposite. Sometimes, doing so serves me poorly, Nonetheless, losing myself in the herd totally grates my nerves.

        That said, I do distinguish between those who are hackneyed in reflection of their genuine yearnings, and those who are trite because they’re too lazy to think. Those who use shopworn phrases merely to pump up their verbosity’s quantity and volume.

        I’m talking about you (among others), Family Tree Guy.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. You give me much credit indeed. If only I had something of will; the virtues you so kindly ascribe to me do not often survive direct contact with humanity. At least, I don’t think they do. Admittedly… it can be very hard to see oneself with clarity, and I may not always do so.

          Ah, a follower of the road less traveled! You are braver than I; I may rail against in my heart, but more often than not, my feet find themselves treading in others’ footsteps.

          Heh… My sister would empathize — greatly, I suspect — with your distaste of those who use cheap phrases as cheaper tricks.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Whether the Rachel I see here appears also the face-to-face world, may, or may not, be the case. However, I think she does. For one thing, the qualities cited definitely are part of your portfolio. They’re not inventions, so they exist.

            Their materialization in the real world depends on them being properly encouraged. You’re shy and, not surprisingly, your attributes are too.

            There are nine billion people on this planet, and thus, there are nine billion different personality types. In all this time, one or two of them must’ve unlocked the vault, right? Question is, did our intrepid explorer realize the treasure he/she found?

            As for my bravery, I appreciate the compliment, but there are no traces of distinction. Fact is, I follow the herd’s footprints too. Just in the opposite direction sometimes. In most regards, I’m thoroughly conventional.

            Like yours, my heart reigns supreme. If I like the herd’s direction, sign me up for the cattle drive. However, when the goal is unclear or if it’s wrong, nothing sets my jaw more than for someone to declare “everyone’s doing it.” That’s one of the reasons I’m probably the only person left in the northern hemisphere who hasn’t seen any of the “Batman” movies. The initial ultra-hype, way back when, left me totally cold.

            Ah, I think I would like your sister — greatly, I suspect — given your descriptions so far. Annoying, wouldn’t both of you agree, those who are the tritest tend to be the loudest too?

            Liked by 1 person

            1. Rebellion for its own sake can be foolish enough; but there is folly too in assuming that the herd leads only to places of plenty, and wisdom (yes, and bravery) in acknowledging that it is not so. To make your own decision, and form your own opinion, can be the hardest thing of all — whether you do it 100% of the time or not, is irrelevant.

              As for convention, that’s not always the same as the latest fad. One sometimes has a basis; The other often does not.

              And yes, I think we would both agree. 🙂

              Liked by 1 person

  2. Hmmm. Laughing Otter speaks the truth.

    Seriously, there is much wisdom in what you wrote, and you covered quite a bit.

    You’re right, of course, in that it’s foolish to follow or to defy the herd simply on principle alone. Being rather conventional, I do tend to walk with the others, but the radar’s on ’10’ the whole time. Not that I hope to be misled, but I do scan the horizon for…incongruities.

    From what you’ve mentioned so far, it seems you take a similar approach. Not surprising.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Laughing Otter is your Algonquin name, right?

        As for the radar, everyone’s gets static on occasion. Jiggle the antenna. If that doesn’t work, try yelling at it. Either works sometimes.

        If it still won’t function, and the danger is upon you before you can avoid it, chalk it up to Experience. Uh, yeah, it’ll give you…character.

        Liked by 2 people

        1. Hah! Well, certainly — but how did you know? 😜

          Oh, that’s how you get *radar* to function. Funny — I could’ve sworn that was something else.

          That’s the best way to define a disaster: a thing that gives you character. And if you work hard at it, it’ll be true.

          Liked by 2 people

          1. Uh-uh. Making that effort requires some idealism too, does it not? Without some faith the situation can be mitigated, maybe resolved even, the attempt never would’ve been made in the first place.

            Inevitably, there are times it would’ve been better not to have tried, but just as often, our hopes are rewarded. It’s a gamble, but just the fact we’re willing to take our chances speaks well of our aspirations/

            Liked by 2 people

              1. Oh, for sure. Despite optimism’s determination, and notwithstanding an impulse to root for the underdog, there are a couple areas unrelieved failure has condemned to oblivion. Alas, in these instances, experience has shown life to be not at all as it in movies.

                No soundtrack welling to buoyancy and the protagonist grasping a thoroughly unexpected triumph. Hey, this ain’t Hollywood, pal.

                That’s a needlessly wordy way of saying I know exactly what you mean, Rachel.

                One way idealism has made the situation better, at least, is that such losses only besmirch their specific areas, instead the whole endeavor. There was a time once when those shortfalls would’ve led to doubts about the whole thing, but now it’s obvious happiness still is available elsewhere. An improvement, no?

                Liked by 2 people

                1. Heh. One could argue that books are just a needlessly wordy way of entertaining or educating people. Or heck, words are just a needlessly wordy way of saying things.

                  Which is just a needlessly wordy way of saying that it’s hardly so. 🙂

                  Huh. That is a definite improvement, and a good point. Sometimes I forget that being bad at something just means being (currently) bad at something, and not that everything is bad.

                  Liked by 2 people

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