Hello Everyone and Happy Tuesday 🙂
Let’s talk about creativity for bit. I know a lot of people who tend to put themselves down before they even try and see if they are good at something.
“I would not know how to do it” “I won’t be good at it” “Nobody would be interested in what I do anyway”…
All this unnecessary self-loathing and lack of faith in yourself blinds you to the best thing about being creative: It brings you joy.
What other people think of your art, your song or your writing does not matter when creating something makes you happy. The sheer joy of giving back all the little things that makes this world beautiful to your eyes is enough.
Creativity comes from a caring heart, one that has connected with life and people to a magical level. What you create, what you built with your own hands is always a masterpiece, simply because you made it, whether it is with love or anger, you made it because you cared.
And just for that reason, you cannot know that it won’t inspire or save the spirit of someone else. Remember that beneath our appearances, the color of our skins and our different clothes, we all have the same heart, one that beats harder when it is touched. We all have red blood that rush quicker through our veins when we are happy.
There must be a song that pulled you out of a dark place once, a poem or a book that changed your life for the better, a painting or a drawing that left you speechless. This is creativity’s blessing, the thrilling joy and the fierce love that it can give. Why on earth wouldn’t you want to be a part of it?
Today, I want you to try and doodle something that you love, write something silly or heartbreaking and sing a song at the top your lungs. And then, if you can, share it with someone.
And if you are sad or alone or lost whenever you are… I hope this Shatzi will light your heart.
Quote of the day
Picture of the day
Song of the day
Flatsound “You Said Okay”
And a feeling in my gut telling me
I need to keep them shut the whole time
‘Cause if they opened, even for a second, and I saw your lips
They’d suck me in like black holes when they bend light
And it was then I realized you were not my world
You were my universe. Sometimes when I look up, I see stars
That cut through the sky and fade quickly into nothingness
And I pray that you aren’t as fleeting
‘Cause when we’re lying in roads, I get the same feeling
That gravity will just turn off and I’ll fall endlessly
Into something much larger than I am
And I wonder if that’s what it feels like to die and
If I’ll ever understand god in my lifespan
‘Cause I wanna see god
I want to know what god feels like…
And repeat, my dear Eve, you do not take after this
You were not made in a man’s image
But if that’s the case, why do you feel so lost
In the empty space that his hand isn’t?
Why do I wait, wondering how long it’ll take you to admit it?
I’d rather keep my mouth shut
Then start to say what I can’t finish
Baby, I have limits
I have limits
I’m singing ‘la la la’ in empty rooms that carry sounds like hollow caves
‘La la la’ just to prove you’re not the only one that can occupy a borrowed space
‘La la la’ for every ship that was set to sail, but got washed away
I’m singing ‘la la la’ in desperate hopes that when it bounces back, I hear the octave change
So if we could just pretend
That your voice exists inside this empty void within
Then holy shit, holy shit, holy shit if you spoke
Insomnia might loosen its wholesome grip on my throat
And I could begin to forgive you for admitting the hoax
Instead of learning to hate you for every minute you don’t
‘Cause I sit here, wondering if anything you said was true
And who it was that taught you to speak bullets
Without considering the exit wound
Tell me who
‘Cause I still think back to the first time you called me with nothing to say
That morning you were more than just my friend
And we’d both noticed something had changed
You drove to your parent’s house
And we talked about everything
We talked about how much it sucked
But no matter what, we had to remain
And in that deafening silence
I asked if I could still call you my snowflake
And you said okay
You said okay
You said okay
- Featured Image Header: A Bangladeshi Hindu child with his face smeared in colors participates in Holi festival celebrations in Dhaka, Bangladesh, on March 28, 2013Credits: AP Photo/A.M. Ahad, File