To the musician, the writer, and anyone who creates…You can have thousands of people who love you. They love what you create and what you stand for. They can't wait for your next album to be released or to read the pages of your new book. What you create will inspire them.
Then you turn your face and you look into the dark corner of the room. There is a man with a cigarette in one hand, writing things down with the other. Things he thinks about you. A dark shadow of jealousy and irritation cause his eyes to squint at you. He’s looking sharply into your eyes as he walks towards you. The voices of those who love your work and value your life fade into the background. All you can think about is the man with the squinty eyes, and the cancerous smoke he is blowing your direction. His tongue smells like stale nicotine as he hisses words that make you clench your jaw. Your heart beats fast and your face turns red. “You have nothing good to say. Your writing is cheap! No one cares, you have nothing new to offer.” He takes another drag of his cigarette and exhales with more words that rip you to pieces. Your heart feels trampled on, infected by this one man’s hatred.
The thousand are waiting for you, but one man is keeping you from them. There are a thousand cheering you on, but one who holds you back and shuts you up.
It only takes one hissing tongue to paralyze you. You were given melodies and lyrics to be used for good. Your book was meant to change people. So when the hater hates you, move forward, you are exactly where you’re supposed to be.
Sing to the ones who want to hear. Create, because that's what you were made to do.