An Artist’s Soul

It hasn’t been always that I have known my place in this world.  Many a time have I been lost.  Uncertain of who I was or who I was supposed to be.  Only has it been through years of trial and tribulation, experimentation, failure, and success that I have found a way.  I wouldn’t say I have found the way, but I have found something.  I have found a part of myself.  I am certain there is more to be discovered, but for now, this is what there is.  As time goes on, I find more and more my appreciation for the arts.  It is perhaps in part because of this that I feel that maybe, perhaps, perchance, I possess the soul of an artist.  I am not what one would typically call normal.  This is the natural disposition of the artist.  I always have been and continue to be an observer.  I see the world around me and my thoughts run wild with imagination, hopes, dreams, and critiques.  I see beauty everywhere I look.  I also see pain.  I see where humanity is at its best and where it can be better.  I hold the world up to a higher standard.  This is my torment.  The source of my suffering.

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