I write too much,
In my Facebook profile, I keep posting
About many things, love, hate, hypocrisy
Death, happiness, friends.
Someone said I am frustrated,
I need to deal with it out of social media
And fix meself.
Someone said I should stop writing,
And rather use that time and energy to
Make stuff, like what I do professionally,
I make jewelries.
Is a confusing state I guess,
I Love Neil Gaiman,
He said the only thing exclusive we have,
Is our mind, our thoughts.
And we should write about it, paint and draw, or sculpt and design about it.
But we are only one of it.
Either a poet, or a designer, or a painter, singer.
The art itself is rigid too
If a singer stops singing, an artist dies
If a designer stops producing, or a photographer stops clicking, we are no longer producing art.
We are no longer free from the cage of art,
No one wants to know the other side of our minds,
Where sometimes we cannot produce those commercial stuff we do,
But our minds never stop thinking,
And words come instead of products.
But words are just frustration I guess
Lose of energy, lack of creativity
Our minds are our own to bear.