It’s ok to be harmlessly pretentious give your ideas and life some credit & venerate your ideas with research don’t browbeat others with negativity or a misjudged sense of intellectuality but don’t be afraid to aim for lofty ideas perhaps ideas that are hard to fully grasp even seemingly beyond your comprehension the most interesting ideas usually work that way immerse yourself in the terminology of your interest until you can understand the language of their glossary eventually writing new sentences that become paragraphs until what seemed like a pretense becomes the present tense.
My little friend is now gone My tragic life must go on; despite that His evil eyes and his cheeky smile still burn in my mind He no longer exists except For my memory of him And I rejoiced When I heard the news Still I can recall how I sobbed When he gave me his evil eye for the first time When he hurled glass and other projectiles at me when he was hungry When he spent hours upon hours pondering the fabric of society I hated him I wished For his death I was depressed It was like paint peeling off a wall It was like finding a dead leprechaun at the end of a rainbow I was expecting some sort of remorse when he left Funny how heartbreak works
Now read this in reverse Because sometimes all you need Is a little change of perspective To truly understand someone
Dedicated to the goldfish I had when I was little who accidentally died. This is for you sweet fish <3.
I need to express myself For my mental health Not to melt But I don’t make art Because it’s torn apart Like a bleeding heart Eaten by seething sharks
In a match of the friendless Versus the defenseless It’s the pretentious Who condescend us
They hit all The pitfalls With wit small But sit tall Behind thick walls Of vitriol
They see examining art As a way to prove they’re smart By blindly rejecting what others like And enjoying the obscure As if being different makes them right Which is obviously absurd
On a plane where opinion Is treated as fact They claim dominion Over the artistic track By shooting black flak Until I angrily react And flies I attract
You might take the angle I think everyone is painful I’m not saying there aren’t angels But there are definitely demons With no explainable definite reasons Why they call some artists heathens Based on the nonsense they believe in
Pretension and ignorance Have a large difference But both are carnivorous Most of their comments Aren’t very honest Nor are they modest They just burn the hottest
Their judgment stuck On calling everything putrid The best filmmakers **** The best musicians are stupid They can hardly be called lucid Trying to be the negative Confucius
Their hate reaping Gatekeeping Breaks peeking Artists seeking One day reaching Public preaching
I start to withdraw Once they’re near My heart won’t unthaw Frozen in fear The crowd is suggestible and fickle So one negative trickle Causes an avalanche of icicles Knocking me off life’s bicycle
They discourage people from putting themselves out there As they turn culture into a doubt fair Only producing shout air To reroute stares Away from emotional expression And toward themselves With their rhetorical aggression They put us in hell