Would you ask a writer about what their writing means? First, hear (or read) what I have to say. If you ask a poet what their work is about, what sorts of questions do you think they hear all the time? 'Whats this mean? What's this about?' The artists get sick of it. Writing is a form of art. Art is meant to be not the same for everyone. Most artists want their work to be left to the viewers interpretation. Quoth one of my favourite writers:
"Does it mean this, does it mean that, that's all anybody wants to know. Fuck them darling. I say what any decent poet would say if you dared ask him to analyze his work: If you see it, dear, then it's there." - Freddie Mercury.
Artists need their privacy. They'd rather not get asked questions they've answered hundreds of times, or questions they don't wish to answer. There's sometimes a hidden meaning to a piece, but it's not always something they'd like to share. Maybe they fear of criticism, maybe they're embarrassed, maybe they won't tell you just to keep you guessing or for fun. Maybe the meaning is way too personal. Maybe the piece was right out of their imagination, or has no meaning. There could be other reasons too. But if an artist doesn't want to tell you the piece is about, don't pester them. Art is art, and it's meant to be enjoyed. Sometimes not knowing is part of the fun. It's mysterious, which the artist just might've wanted it to be. You can have any theory about a piece, and that's your interpretation.
Written in honour of Freddie Mercury and all other artists.
"Does it mean this, does it mean that, that's all anybody wants to know. Fuck them darling. I say what any decent poet would say if you dared ask him to analyze his work: If you see it, dear, then it's there." - Freddie Mercury.
Artists need their privacy. They'd rather not get asked questions they've answered hundreds of times, or questions they don't wish to answer. There's sometimes a hidden meaning to a piece, but it's not always something they'd like to share. Maybe they fear of criticism, maybe they're embarrassed, maybe they won't tell you just to keep you guessing or for fun. Maybe the meaning is way too personal. Maybe the piece was right out of their imagination, or has no meaning. There could be other reasons too. But if an artist doesn't want to tell you the piece is about, don't pester them. Art is art, and it's meant to be enjoyed. Sometimes not knowing is part of the fun. It's mysterious, which the artist just might've wanted it to be. You can have any theory about a piece, and that's your interpretation.
Written in honour of Freddie Mercury and all other artists.
It's sad
It's the truth
Fighting through what it is
But I'll be stronger
I've gone through
Mounds of pain
I've been through
The deepest waters
Nobody can change my past
It's the truth, and it changed me
Sad to even hear the truth
Sad to...say the truth
Reality's always sad
And no one's gonna escape it.
It's how I became who I am today
It's how I didn't brag.
Why does this have to happen?
Why did it have to end?
Why does the world have to be so confusing?
Why did the fun have to end?
The world's just a crazy place
And no one's gonna stop that thought
Cause I'm broken for good...
Because of...the truth.
It's the truth
Fighting through what it is
But I'll be stronger
I've gone through
Mounds of pain
I've been through
The deepest waters
Nobody can change my past
It's the truth, and it changed me
Sad to even hear the truth
Sad to...say the truth
Reality's always sad
And no one's gonna escape it.
It's how I became who I am today
It's how I didn't brag.
Why does this have to happen?
Why did it have to end?
Why does the world have to be so confusing?
Why did the fun have to end?
The world's just a crazy place
And no one's gonna stop that thought
Cause I'm broken for good...
Because of...the truth.
Tell me darling why you cry,
Your tears stain the bed you lay upon
Could it be you miss the ones you clung to so tight,
Nothing but a scared little fawn
The flames burnt away your past and future,
The hate did nothing but balance your grief
What now? That’s presents question,
Something so fragile like a branch being clung to by a leaf
Where is your mother little dove?
What happened to those loving others who filled your empty nest?
How many word of the world can you rhyme with love?
Perhaps someday we will know with, proper care and rest
When pursuing dreams take chances and strive for nothing less than best
Then only then can you be sure you’ve completed life’s most demanding quest
Your tears stain the bed you lay upon
Could it be you miss the ones you clung to so tight,
Nothing but a scared little fawn
The flames burnt away your past and future,
The hate did nothing but balance your grief
What now? That’s presents question,
Something so fragile like a branch being clung to by a leaf
Where is your mother little dove?
What happened to those loving others who filled your empty nest?
How many word of the world can you rhyme with love?
Perhaps someday we will know with, proper care and rest
When pursuing dreams take chances and strive for nothing less than best
Then only then can you be sure you’ve completed life’s most demanding quest
Soar, soar
Soar beyond your wildest dreams.....
There's no limit
On how much you can soar
No one can
Break your wings and kill you
Soar for the skies,
Don't let the feelin go
Just soar, soar like never before
No one's gonna stop you
From believin
There wasn't a time
When nobody could never soar
But there was a time
When people never believed
And tomorrow
Isn't the day to fall
And nobody's gonna push you down
Oh almighty eagle
We're gonna be the powerful eagles
We're not gonna let anyone
Be our ruler,
We're not anyone's slave
Almighty eagle
Oh soar, soar towards the sky's height
And soar toward your dream
Let nothing keep you away
Almighty eagle
Soar beyond your wildest dreams
And we're gonna fly tonight
Let nobody keep us down.
Life can be hard. Especially for me, Lily West, your almost-average 16-year-old girl. Most people think it's weird I'm bald. Others think I'm going to die. Then there's the occasional person who tries to take pity upon me. I'd rather they not, because some say it like I'm a helpless little turtle on its back. Sometimes I wish I die already, and sometimes I wish that I was a completely different person. Yes, it's tough having cancer. I just wish that they would respect me for a person instead of a helpless little bug.