Creative Insulation
The way I see it is that there is this plasma, if you will, of creative insubordinance surrounding us. We walk through it whenever we move, near that of walking through a very calm stream. Some can feel this fluid when they walk, they sing, hum, whistle, tap, all the while barely realizing what they are really skipping to. Maybe you realize it, maybe you don't. That's the whole point of this ideal, you never know where your imagination is coming from. What if it was already there? What if everyone's ideas were already there in a great magnitude of plasma, does it make sense that these ideas, maybe they don't come from nowhere maybe they come from everywhere.. the fluid of creative insulation. Every thought we think gets sucked into the vortex of this fluid, and then spit back out. Have you ever had a really fucking cool idea, but just dismissed it, or forgot about it, and then the next day someone is doing the very idea you had? Maybe that idea wasn't quite right for you, maybe it was just perfect for someone else. Hmm, where could that be coming from? Original creative flow. It's there, but really, the progress has been slowly declining lately, maybe there aren't enough people in the world trying to tap into their creative selves and are to overtaken by work, money, corporation, commercialism. It's taking over, man. That river of creative flow that used to drown us in uplifting oblivion is now being sunk, dried up by the heat of boredom, and the necessity to do what it is that everyone else wants, instead of what you want. Boredomosity is a sickness that can only be cured by tapping into this flow. Can't draw? Paint. Can't paint? Sing. Can't sing, dance, or make music? The fuck you can't, do it anyway. Do something to override boredom... anything. You fuckbags that lay around feeling sorry for yourself because you can't figure out anything to do are killing off the rest of us. Creative insulation, it's the ultimate insubordination.