The Atelier of the Soul

Where are we going?
Who guides us?
We are an empty canvas,
seeking an expressive art.
Am I enough for myself?
Am I enough for others?
Where are we going? Where am I going?

Blue sphere, I was swallowed by your beauty,
a single lens would suffice to behold you.
But as I saw you from within, I realized I had fallen for an illusion.

Like science fiction, I relive the same day.
Am I weary of myself or of those around me?
The empty canvas has just received its first paint�"a fervent red.

My blurred vision clouds the perpetual motion around me,
but like an eagle’s eyes, I can see my target miles ahead.

The breath in my lungs has taken me far,
or have I yet to begin the journey?
Now, I receive the brush, and with no reason, I spill the paint.

Yesterday, I lost count of how many “selves” dwell within me.
Conveniently, they only reveal themselves depending on the setting.

That makes me wonder�"who am I?
Between smiles and pain, where am I headed?

Looking to the side, I notice a black paint with a strong stench,
disturbingly intriguing my mind.

Will my path immortalize memories, or must I abandon the map?
Fate pushes, I resist.

A homunculus, blended with emotions�"where do I place them?
The experiment has failed.

Time, how about we become friends?
If I get to know you, I fear I may remain trapped in the past.
What have I allowed to pass through me?

Above me, I feel drops of paint falling.
Are they transparent?
Ah… seems like I forgot to dry the floor upstairs.

Sometimes, darkness visits my space,
trying to understand its own existence.

At times, my soul materializes, and I see how human it truly is.
Is this how a man is formed?

Solitude has kept my room always tidy,
its jealousy of others pulls me back in.

Fleeing from praise and criticism,
it only feeds my dualities.
What should I accept? My reflection lies in those I judge.
I’ve grown used to both hating and loving.

I am already submerged, yet the surface still seems so far.
Should I stop? My arms have lost their strength.
Is it me who is diving deeper?

When did I buy this canvas?
What exactly am I painting?
Why is there fear and panic in it?
Perplexed, I reconsider�"
Do I buy a new painting or continue my own art?

Hours pass, and I notice the sunlight invading my atelier.
I had forgotten this warmth.

Surprised, I look around�"so many paintings on the wall,
each one holding stories, memories.
Did I create this?
There were also countless paints, so vivid
that it seemed as though a rainbow had descended from the heavens.

I don’t understand�"has someone been here with me all along?
This gentle presence pointed toward another blank canvas.

I leave behind what I have painted.
Now, following this being,
I dedicate this blank canvas to my true art.
Without purpose, I had wandered at the mercy of my fears.