

I think we stop creating when we realize that it doesn’t “make sense” to do it anymore.
Why do you waste time writing cruddy poems? Why do you spend your free days drawing terrible pictures no one will ever see?
No one’s ever going to buy your books or see your art in a gallery, so why do it? It doesn’t pay the bills so what’s the point?
And so we “grow up “ and leave the art behind. Musicians, painters, poets, writers, sculptors- we all stop our art because we have always been told it’s a waste of time. If you’re not a prodigy or making an income from art, then it’s futile.
We lose ourselves too. Losing imagination. Succumbing to society.
Everyone is always talking about having plans. Financial plans, medical plans, weekend plans, future plans.
So pointless. Nothing goes as planned. Can’t predict the end.
So much talk about fate. “Fate led me here,” or “fate brought us together.”
I don’t know belief in fate is good or bad. On one hand, I think it’s good to take responsibility for everything that happens. On the other hand, it’s nice to have the comfort of “fate will work this out.”