The Underground Resurrects

For as long as i can remember, good art never stayed underground when the Artist was ready. He'd show the world, the world would then choose to either accept it or reject it. This gave birth to Hip Hop and sustained it in all its glory. How lyrists would carve sculptures with words. Putting you in their shoes, in their stories with the delivery of each bar. I was talking to a creative today. Hence why i write this despite the burden of academic pressure I'm enduring. 

As a creative, my one pursuit besides the normal day to day looking for a means to survive, is to tell a story. Be it mine or the next person to me and provide all the necessary facts without bias. The most gut wrenching feeling is putting it out there (your truth) and failing to find an audience. Knowing your story would relate to many but being unable to reach the many. Enter, marketing and other forms of brand exposure. I can assure you that's not what I'm doing. Well yet. As long as I've got enough to eat i can guarantee a level of level headedness in my analysis. 

Living in Zimbabwe is a mission on its own. The youth barely have opportunities if any. And if you don't align yourself with a side you're a broke problem or you're broke njee. So it's a testy time we live in, but I'm not here to write politics. It's the creatives I'm worried about here.