I wrote a song last night. It's the first song I've ever written, and I actually like it. I think it's beautiful. It's not the best song in the world, and the lyrics are not the most original. However, it is my first, and it makes me happy. Thing is, I tried to write it down, but I'm having a hard time. I took three semesters of music theory, but I haven't studied it in about two years now, and I haven't really practiced reading music; therefore, I can't write it all that well. I was never that fluent in it to begin with, so I'm pretty bad now.

The problem with that is figuring out the chords. I could hear them in the back of my head, but I couldn't quite get them on the piano. I tried all these different things, but they didn't match up with what I'm feeling the chords are. This opened several streams of thought. First of all, I've always had this philosophy that all music already exists, it is simply a matter of finding it. Now, when I use the word "finding" I mean that music and thought all exists within this inner universe, this other realm of being, this parallel dimension where our thoughts are. Think about what a thought actually is. You can't ever see it. It's in your brain, apparently, but if you opened your brain up, you would never find it with your eyes. You could probably give me a tireless list of scientific explanations as to the electrical work of the brain with all those other biological or chemical phrases that answer the question of "what is thought," but somehow, that doesn't satisfy me. Art is just a translation of beauty within our inner worlds. We dance, we sing, we write, we paint, we sculpt, we draw, we cook. These areall our attempts to get out whatever it is inside us that is so moving and awe-inspiring that we just can't let it sit in there. An artist's work is never done because there is nothing that could fully and completely grasp what is inside us. Songs are endless. They will be composed for the rest of eternity, and even then, there would be more to create. I use the word "create" even though I've just explained that it all already exists. So, know that when I say "create," I mean translate, the translation of beauty from our inner worlds into our tangible ones.

Okay, so, back to my point. This song already exists in my brain somewhere, and I can't get it out because I don't know enough about music theory, and my body is not fluent in any instrument. So, it is trapped inside, and that is a bizarre and terrifying discovery.

So, this made me think of another scary and completely realistic concept: Though there is nothing the whole world can agree on, a majority of educated individuals believe that Shakespeare was one of histories greatest writers. Stephen Hawkings is considered one of the smartest men to ever exist. Maya Angelo is supposedly one of the best poets. My point is, there is a best at everything (or at least what many people consider to be the best.) But are they? Maybe the wisest man to ever exist in this world has had one of those diseases where you're pretty much asleep for your whole life. Maybe the greatest and most eloquent writer in the history of man existed a few hundred years ago as a jungle native in a vagabond tribe. He never learned to speak any language outside of that tribe's language, and he never learned to write. No one has ever heard of him, and no one would have ever remembered him. However, he possessed the potential to write in such a way that he would be universally accepted as a brilliant artist. The potential was in him, but he had no way of getting it out. I wonder what his thoughts were. I wonder how he saw the world because he never had any means to translate his inner beauty to the outer world. If this example is too extravagant, then just think of a homeless man who was homeless all his life. He never learned to write, never learned to speak proper English. Who is to say that if he had had the opportunities that we have, he would not have been the world's most talented poet? No one. We call artists gifted. I assume that people mean a gift from God. What if God gifted them, but the cruel and unfair society did not?

Maybe if we tried something new, we would discover that we had a gift for it. Just something to think about.