I was never one for visual arts.
nor was I ever good with words.
my understanding of music is rudimentary, at best.
while I cannot say the same for dance.
there is so much going on inside.
and not one bit can I express with pictures, actions, or pieces.
I cannot even begin to articulate how I feel.
but go past that. look beyond my inadequacies at expression
and perhaps, therein lies the greater reason for this inability to express.
everything is simple. yet nothing ever is.
simplicity compounded, leads to complexity.
nothing is ever as it is. as it is said,
the flap of a butterfly's wings here, and a tornado is triggered there.
all a tangled mess. a mangled web. a wangled tess.
there is no comprehension.
hence, there is nothing.
but a mess.
