“In a world that is constantly evolving, who is to say what the right way to do anything is? What’s the better form of writing? Which form of art is superior? What is the best kind of music to exist?
And if you have an opinion, are you allowed to let the world know of it, lest they come at you with their knives and pitchforks? Are you allowed to say what’s on your mind without any fear? Is the world ready to accept you for who you are, as you are right now and how you want to be in the future?
Who’s to say what tomorrow is to bring our way?
Things might seem to be going downhill one moment and uphill the next. Who’s to say what comes next, anyway? There’s no way anybody has this life thing sorted out. There’s a lot to think about everybody who looks sorted on the outside– sticky notes, colour-coded journals sorted, but they’re a huge mess inside and they have no idea how to sort that out. There’s a storm inside that doesn’t seem like it’s going to go away any time soon, and there’s no way to tell if we’re going to make it out of that.
And who’s to say what is on anybody’s mind? You can’t tell their inner turmoils anyway. We don’t think about that, though, do we? It’s always the world we live in as we see through our own eyes. Other perspectives cease to make sense to us unless we have something to gain, but who’s to admit that it’s unhealthy at all?
Much to think about, isn’t there?”