It is our duty to reconstruct possibility. We must redefine capacity so others know they can as well. Formulating emptiness is our destiny. Adversary is inevitable. Pacification is futile. The world is a line filled by canvas, treacherously crying for color, neurological function are our florescently dipped boughs compelled to convey infinity. Poetic justice must be obtained for salvation. The children of days need leaders, not repetitions of failed policy.

Empty dreams of monotony.

What if Beethoven only made remixes? What if Da Vinci only made trivial copies? To do as though they have done would be to insult the evolution of thought.
Accepting a mold is the role of play-doh. Recipes should be malleable and distinguishable. The desire for repetition is inescapable but deniable. Trends are for the simplistic, unwilling to tickle explorations insatiable skin.
Freedom whispers in my ears a thoughtful melody of peace. I, no longer may reject as the seed that is me germinates, I corrupt and defy the mounds of my plantation.

I pick the lock that is culture with clarity.