Creativity is Dead

Unimaginative and fake. Disgusting. I hate every bit of it. Who was the man who wrote the language of music? Who was the lemming who thought that it would be a good idea to disregard all creativity and practice scales for hours? The industry is fake. There is no money in creativity. Who is it that thinks that they are really being artsy when they just sit in that stupid posture, and recite another man's pieces day after day? It's all about technique and efficiency. Who gives a damn about creativity? It's all a joke. If there were no language, the uncreative man would not sit in my office and criticize me for being 'unskilled'. If there were no language, there would be no practice. If there were no language, I could finally sit on the bench and let my mind flow into my piece, and not hear some goodie voice from over the way ask "What key are you playing in?".

FIND IT YOURSELF

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world

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