Method of Beauty
What I thought was foolishness was music.
What I thought was a mind in chaos was a mind at play.
What I thought I needed to find outside was inside all along.
What I thought I could control was the thing that needed to be free.
All illusions of a mind that wants to know the truth of the world and to tame it to its will.
But music comes whether called or not—you are a function of the world, taking input, producing output. You are a method of beauty. You are an instance of the pattern that takes reality to make new reality. The pattern of standing around and accidentally writing a song.