1:30 a.m.

It’s getting ugly inside of my mind, so I am gonna turn all that junk into art.

Art that you might not like,

and I might not care because that’s the whole game.

 

I am sick and tired of the negativity that you carry,

the victimhood patterns, and the not enoughness cluster.

I have walked in those shoes and hid in that hood way too often,

so let me tell you something:

 

It sucks when I drown in the murkiness of your judgments.

I’m fed up with the limitations that you impose on me.

With the lack of originality of your advice,

conformism and resigning are my only choices.

 

In your eyes, I am never graceful—

I am always too much, too little, too fat, too savvy.

Your f*cked up opinion is that we should all be quieter,

hiding our genius in case it is perceived as madness.

You know what I have to say to that?

F*ck you!

 

I am done with you taking the driver’s seat;

I’ll accept you as a passenger, that’s alright.

But, from now on, I am gonna get loud, messy, and fearless.

 

I’ll cheer up my weirdness because I am a freaking artist!

Dali never apologized for his madness.

Mozart made symphonic history of his access.

Martha Graham let her body dance what it wanted.

 

And I choose to live my life with the same parameters.

One woman’s art is another woman’s madness.

And that’s okay, thank God!

We have art to clear up the spaces between self-love and self-hatred.

 

Showing up for my own authentic expression in whatever way I fancy

is my birthright and my freaking responsibility.

I will leave this world a bit more colorful,

a bit more musical,

more danced out,

and a lot messier than I found it.

 

I celebrate my madness!

Allowing myself to create the life my inner genius desires,

because I am a creatrix!

 

Painting last night’s madness,

triggered by my self-editing b*tch

going crazy after I dared

to jump on the mic on stage

and share a prayer from the rawness

of my wild inner artist!

 

Layla el Khadri.

Published in elephant journal

Editor: Leah Surgerman