Cecilia

All of the anger around me lately has been fascinating to watch.

Watching people with the musical imagination of drywall explain performance to me, world building to me, tension to me, when every single thing I do is intentional. Every movement is intentional. Every uncomfortable moment is intentional. Some of you are confusing discomfort with bad art, and history has made a lot of people look unbelievably stupid for making that mistake too early.

But I forgive you.

I understand.

I know this is difficult for some of you because the performance was never designed to entertain people who think subtlety is a technical issue.

The level of confidence people have while misunderstanding something in real time is honestly incredible.

But I forgive you.

I understand.

What I’ve realised lately is that a lot of you do not actually hate young bulls, ambition, experimentation, genius or disruption.

You hate the emotional experience of encountering something before your brain has received social permission to understand it. If enough people clap first, suddenly you “always got it.” But being early requires a kind of mental independence most of the internet fundamentally does not possess.

Which is fine.

I forgive you.

I understand.

I’ve made peace with the fact that some minds are decorative.

I know you want reassurance. I know you want the feeling of immediately understanding something the first time you see it so you can feel intelligent without having to evolve at all. So when something genuinely foreign appears in front of you something too sharp, too alive, too unfamiliar to fit inside the little templates you use to process art you call it terrible because confusion is easier to admit than limitation.

And that’s okay.

I forgive you.

I understand.

I understand that some of your entire understanding of music begins and ends with whether you can nod to it immediately.

I genuinely underestimated how threatening it would feel for some of you to watch somebody become better than your favourite artist in real time. That is my fault.

There’s almost a grief process to it.

Denial first. Then anger. Jokes. Insults. Fake concern. Then eventually acceptance once enough time passes and your favourite artist starts borrowing from the same thing you swore you hated six months earlier. Then suddenly people begin describing the influence retroactively like they weren’t laughing two business quarters ago.

But I forgive you.

I understand.

I don’t take any of it personally because this exact thing happens every single time culture encounters somebody operating too far ahead.

And I’m not saying any of this from insecurity either, which I know makes people even more uncomfortable. I genuinely believe I am one of the most important artists alive right now. Not “will be.”

Am.

And I know the problem isn’t that I think that. The problem is that somewhere underneath all the outrage, a lot of you man can feel why I think it.

So I forgive you.

I understand.

I know some of you desperately want this to be a joke because it would make the whole thing easier to dismiss.

Unfortunately, I mean every word.

Being hated this loudly while refusing to become more normal is one of the strongest indicators I’ve ever seen that I’m doing something correct.

Mediocrity does not create this level of emotional instability in strangers. Nobody has ever lost sleep over somebody being decent.

So I’ll continue watching people with the attention span of fruit flies try to process something that was never made for instant approval in the first place.

I forgive you.

I understand.