No one else like you.
No one else pays attention.
No one else believes the things you do.
No one else sees what you see.
So what, if you have a grand vision but no one else ever gets on board or sees what you see? Do you stop writing the vision? Do you stop speaking the truth?
Till the train is boarded?
What if you write and write and the people closest to you can’t see or hear it? If you speak and no one is listening? What if you seem to repeat and repeat -yet without them getting it down?
The person you love the most, doesn’t thirst or really desire to read or take in your passion, your work, your art. What then? Does it inform it’s mere existence? Or is it created nonetheless? And when created, how is it valued?
In spite of.
Maybe it’s the wrong person. And your art is your sole companion on a wilderness journey and not meant to accompany anyone else.
Are you the delusional artist? Despite any one else’s opinion or lack thereof, you continue to create?
Is your art merely tolerated or celebrated? And what if it is ignored? Can you really be a genius that no one else knows about?
Does it not exist until it’s heard? Until it’s repeated? Or till it’s understood.
What if it never finds an audience? Is it only born upon discovery?
How much does one affect the other? The notion that in order to be considered great–it is a comparative scale. It is not in a vacuum. It is a result of others’ opinion and interpretation of who you are? What you do?
Is the value only measured in its affect to the world?
What if you do one thing for the world and another in private? Which is the real art?
Which is real?
What you do through the lens of everyone else? Or
What you do regardless of no one else?