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it’s strange how life imitates art / isn’t it?
the things that sound so beautiful in poetry & lyrics become our reality – we love like the poets describe – fiercely / passionately / messily / we fight like heroes / proud & defiant / & sometimes we even die like tragic figures in stories like juliet or tristan or icarus / trying to fly too close to the sun /
it’s like the world has some grand performances / & we are all the actors /playing our parts in this strange / beautiful tragedy / or maybe it’s vice versa – maybe the poets & musicians & writers are simply describing the world / as it is / in all its messy / complicated glory /
maybe it’s both / maybe life and art are intertwined – the messy reality of existence mirroring the beauty of art / & the art itself reflecting the messy reality of life /
i find it both exhilarating & terrifying – this idea that life can imitate art / & vice versa. it’s like living in a never-ending spiral / a cycle of creation and destruction / birth & death /
but in a way / it’s also freeing / if life can imitate art / then perhaps anything is possible /
