Outside of expectation, of notions of what matters - away from the idea of who you think you should be and what that person should say -- somewhere there is where you reside and that's where you're playful fanciful crazy alive anything goes you.
Like a mixture of sad songs that only you know, a pick n' mix of feelings you didn't know you had and places you didn't know you wanted to see. You exist as a blank canvas, and the world can paint you any way it wants and vice versa.
Let go of what could should might maybe be and you're left with what is. And what is has never been the is before, so who cares how you paint it. It's brand new and it's you.
You're that live gig no-one recorded, you just had to be there. You're that in-joke between friends. You're the play performed in front on nine people. You're the mix tape that only one person heard. You're the short story some kid wrote and stashed in the draw. You're anything and anything and anything and if you forget, for a second, the idea of being judged, reviewed or approved, then what would come out of you? If the likes and comments didn't matter, you'd go back to being the you you started out being, where all that mattered were the things that mattered.
What matters isn't the reviews. What you think of what I'm writing isn't what's important, what's important is that I wrote it.
