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.
I'm cheerful on the outside yes, but under this huge hyperfilled, cheerful girl is a fragile antique.
On the outside some see me as normal or energetic maybe the one apple with a hole in the barrel.
I'll plaster a smile every now and then to show the me-the fake me- to disguise the actual one pulling the strings.
As I stand before the mirror starring at myself I see that figure looming behind me his hand on my shoulder.
And at that moment my mask breaks and I'm stunned at my actual self.
I'm filled with depression, sadness, anger and haterid.
Never did I want to ever see the true me.
The mirror breaks and the man next to me whispers "Your mine." I look down in defeat.
Dropping to the ground-on my knees-I begin to cry.
He got the better of me and now I am no more.
"I'm a monster." I say to myself through a sob.
On the outside some see me as normal or energetic maybe the one apple with a hole in the barrel.
I'll plaster a smile every now and then to show the me-the fake me- to disguise the actual one pulling the strings.
As I stand before the mirror starring at myself I see that figure looming behind me his hand on my shoulder.
And at that moment my mask breaks and I'm stunned at my actual self.
I'm filled with depression, sadness, anger and haterid.
Never did I want to ever see the true me.
The mirror breaks and the man next to me whispers "Your mine." I look down in defeat.
Dropping to the ground-on my knees-I begin to cry.
He got the better of me and now I am no more.
"I'm a monster." I say to myself through a sob.
I am a broken-winged eagle
Who cannot fly
Because I have set no goal for myself.
Other people laugh and scoff at me,
And I know that I must quickly find something
To hope for.
Everyday I think,
"What's the use? Nothing is my talent. Give up."
People think I am nothing but stupid,
But I can see that light within myself.
I have not yet soared.
I have not yet found my dream.
One day, I find something unique to dream for.
Writing.
Something that can take me to faraway places
Anywhere, beyond this universe.
And now I can soar.
Far, far, faraway
Where no one can catch me.
Where no one can disturb me.
Where I can be free.
Where I will no longer be
A broken-winged eagle.
Who cannot fly
Because I have set no goal for myself.
Other people laugh and scoff at me,
And I know that I must quickly find something
To hope for.
Everyday I think,
"What's the use? Nothing is my talent. Give up."
People think I am nothing but stupid,
But I can see that light within myself.
I have not yet soared.
I have not yet found my dream.
One day, I find something unique to dream for.
Writing.
Something that can take me to faraway places
Anywhere, beyond this universe.
And now I can soar.
Far, far, faraway
Where no one can catch me.
Where no one can disturb me.
Where I can be free.
Where I will no longer be
A broken-winged eagle.
Let us hold hands in joy
Let us sit on the warm white sand
And let us watch the sun set tonight
We're gonna be a pair
We're gonna fly away
And let nobody go into our minds
Toni-i-ight
We're gonna slowly stand up
Listen to the waves
Roar and wash into the sand
And I'm gonna lean on you
Oh where were the times?
Where were the moments?
It seems like last year
When I kissed you and locked eyes
The sun's settin
But we're never gonna leave each other
Not if we stay together
Like ever...like forever
Watch the sun set
Watch the waves roll into each other
Oh my dear,
We're gonna never be separated
Sun sets,
Waves roll,
We're gonna sleep...
Side by side.