The original

was afraid he couldn’t write


he had to kill the demons inside of him

or give into them.

It was easier, to let them have their own way

and not to fight them


he had so many fears, when the demons were restrained

but when they were given free range

they didn’t bother him—

nothing bothered him.

When the demons were there

he didn’t have much belief in anything

he didn’t care

and that was a relief.

The original wondered about

the truth in other people’s words

the sentences they said,

that sentenced them

to a certain interpretation of life.

He wondered if they really believed what they said

there was no way to argue with someone

who needed to believe

more than he did.

The original knew, that by doing everything new

people wouldn’t understand him

but he decided… better to be original, than to be understood.

Climbing a mountain, made sense to the original

even though, mountain climbing, is unoriginal—

it’s metaphoric

it means, to do something difficult, because it’s there

and the task, isn’t worth the status of accomplishing the task,

which makes it noble.

Maybe, people go to war, so they can tell war stories

but when they are there, they realize how foolish they were, to think that.

An original decides to do something, but it might not have any use, to anybody

it probably won’t gain acceptance,

and most people need that.

The original works really hard

probably for nothing

think about that.

All the right ways to go about doing something

are tossed out

because the original is doing

what has never been done before.

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