"Creative", check. "Imaginative", check. "Stimulating", check. "Challenging", check. "Meaningful", check. "Serious", check.
I'm sorry, it's hard to take any of this seriously when you're obviously here to please someone else.
"Creative" and "Imaginative" submissive zombie. Anxious, blind, bored out of your mind... and you keep telling yourself it will be for the benefit of mankind.
The principal thing you've managed to establish is an organised form of self-hatred. The self-indulgent spectacle of you punishing the shit out of your own posterior.
It's hard to respect an artist who's gathering worn-out ideas like a paranoid, pathetic, sick little creature. All the things that worked before. All branded with the sense of importance.
Speaking of importance: nothing says creative freedom more than slavishly filling out your social awareness bingo card. You might as well singe a stigmata on your forehead. Or how about "It Worked Before" tattooed on your ass.
What you have is a temporary sense of efficiency. Perfectly efficient until something shattering comes along and blows away your precious little lists and cards. The panic in your eyes. Check and check.
No comments:
Post a Comment