Do we not all dip our pen in the fountain of collective consciousness? Is not the infinity of all thought bound by the one mind we share? If only ever one thought was allowed to exist as an expression of itself, then what a strange world we would live in. We don't call the lily an impersonator of the rose, nor is the owl a mimic of all feathered beasts. Perhaps this is an opportunity to understand, not by means of comparison or competition, that your mind is on the right track. You know, you feel, you sense, you desire what is current, of course, for you are tapped into the pool of everything and everyone. What if you didn't drop your pen from fear but instead simply wrote what you saw? Every expression of everything is always beautiful, desired, and needed. The paper needs your ink. The world needs your voice. The consciousness needs what only your soul can say. Write on. Right on?