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Beau – Be My Baby

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When I began writing poetry at the age of five, I did so to be great. I wanted to be remembered for all time. I wanted to be grand and have people talk about me in schools for eons to come. I wanted to be a legend. In my head, every word that was written down on those blank sheets of paper was another upward step on the staircase to greatness. Every syllable, a keystroke in the concerto of eternity.

Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.
George Orwell

It wasn’t until I got into the music industry and began studying patterns that I realized that there is no such thing as “forever”. Songs get remade because the old versions become forgotten. They are erased the same way historic accounts get altered in Orwell’s 1984. Slowly, the truth is chipped away from all record and the new versions take their place. This happens everywhere throughout history. Writers become replaced by the greater writers of newer generations. Songs get sung by newer Sirens, and the people know none the better.

He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.”

That’s when I knew that I wanted to write for the simple act of creating. I didn’t want to live this life working for someone else for a few dollars that would only get spent on bullshit, in the long run. I wanted to leave pieces of me and my life behind that would last long after I was gone until humanity forgot and erased me too. The creation wouldn’t be the writing, but the curated emotion that I made you feel as you read my words; as I pull you in to a story that once was and make you hear all the sounds as if you were right there with me. As I make you smell every scent and feel every fabric.

Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.”

Like this remake of The Ronnette’s 50’s progression smash, my writing is to be taken apart by newer generations to be made their own. The power to assist in that continued creation was the only thing I was ever after. The influence over those who do not know that they have been influenced long ago.

Until they became conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious.”