An idea

what is an idea

I am possessed. By an idea. An idea given to me by everything I've read, I've heard and seen. All I've felt and experience and have learned all throughout my life. No it was not given. It has always existed inside me. It was simply brought out and exposed.  

Fiction and history. Historical fiction. Combined and separate.

It's not a spirit. It's an idea. And idea is much stronger that any weapon, any threat, any power. And idea is the fuse for the power. Nuclear power is an idea. World power is an idea. An idea is everything.

Humor,love,mystery,money,debt,art,math,grammar,spelling,criticism,sin,happiness,depression,good,evil,black and white, red and black, black and black,family,standards,racism,equality,rats,kings,president,revolutionaries, hero's,monarchies,governments,oppression,depression,freedom,death,life,you,me,them. All an idea. And idea is never ending. An idea is complex no matter how simple it may look. An idea corrupts you, it defines you, it fill all of you, its in you but it doesn't become you, you become it. It can condemn you. And idea has no spelling or grammar although it could. An idea is written and spoken and harmonized, it can be colorless or full of shades. An idea causes pity, it makes you smile, it makes you think and hate. An idea is past present and future and all in between. And idea is proper and educated. And idea is free and rebellious.

God is real.

What is this idea that haunts me? What is this idea that has transformed me into this potentially made false hypocrite mad educated honest loving jerk of an artist I call my self.

It's not a simple idea. It's not even a full idea. It's a glimpse of an idea. It's a dream. A dream is an idea, I stand corrected by my self.

A master piece.

To be born and wait to realize- then realize to live for it- then to die for it. For the masterpiece. It's a one act play. A one life performance. It has everything it should. And like any show. The claps don't come till the end. If they even come. If the audience doesn't leave early. Some will that's for sure. It's all part of the show. They will all leave some day. Some clapped some didn't. Some understood it and felt it, some didn't fully get it, some got lost before during or after, some fell asleep. At the end it doesn't matter.

If it won't matter then what's the point of the master piece?

It's not for them. It's for you. It's for me. It's for the nature of the soul of the artist. Feed it give it purpose.

Its the reason for his living.

The masterpiece.

This is my muse and my block. This is my demon and my liberator.

This is my my life and will be my death.

Please have a sit. The show has already started. I don't think you want to miss this masterpiece. -AT