I have shed my thick armored plating that hides my ridiculous
True nature from the rest of the world,
Revealing my God-given form to everyone around me.
I have forsaken the comfort of obscurity, instead choosing to
Shout loudly and clearly “I am here!
Gaze upon me for all my mortal sins!”
I have suffered without my protection, taking blows to my carefully curated
Ego as people confront me about the things their minds just can’t comprehend.
“You have an issue,” they tell me.
I understand that. I acknowledge that. I move on.
They cannot seem to do the same.
Do you hear my voice singing the songs of a tradition long forgotten?
Do you hear the rising crescendos and the soulful melodies I croon
As I behold the world from my own corner of meaningless existence?
I don’t care that they can’t make sense of the chaotic wonder of music I
Compose with my own two hands and simple mind.
I don’t care when they tell me I should or shouldn’t sing.
It’s my voice, it’s my choice,
I don’t care.
They can’t even begin to understand the fabulous suffering of the
Magnificent and terrible universe because they do not try.
I don’t have the faintest clue of what it means either, but
At least I’m trying.