“Where Do You Get Your Ideas?”
Notes from a Creative Who Learned to Keep Quiet
By Roy Dawson Earth Angel Master Magical Healer
Life has always been interesting to me. Not because it handed me any favors, but because I learned early on how to look at it sideways. I see things. I come up with ideas. And for a while, I thought the world would celebrate that. Or at least be curious.
It didn’t.
What I got instead was silence. Then tension. Then quiet bitterness — from people who think creativity is some kind of magic that you shouldn't have unless they gave it to you.
“It’s so easy for him.”
“He thinks he’s better.”
“Where’s he getting these ideas?”
The answer was always simple: my brain.
I’ve always been creative. That’s not ego — that’s wiring. Some people build shelves. I build songs. Stories. Ideas. I build whole worlds in my head while other people are arguing about who's cool and who's not. I wasn’t trying to compete. But suddenly, everyone else was.
And if you’ve ever been a true creative — not a trend-chaser or a copycat, but someone who sees the world through a lens that didn’t come pre-installed — you know what comes next:
The mocking.
The fake laughter.
The “stupid idea” comments.
And then, the worst part — they steal it.
They use your idea. Claim it. Build on it. Monetize it. And act like it was theirs all along.
The Beer Band That Didn’t Want to Try
It happened to me in high school. We had a “beer band.” We weren’t good, but we had heart — or at least I thought so. I brought in a song I wrote — melody, lyrics, everything. I believed in it. They laughed.
“We can’t play that. That’ll never be a good song.”
I told them:
“All you want to do is play other dudes’ music. You don’t want to build anything. You don’t want to try.”
They didn’t like that.
When you hang around people who are scared to create, scared to fail, scared to go for it — you’re always outnumbered. We had no money, no real read more gear. Just a cassette recorder and a little hunger.
What we needed was loyalty. People who could see what wasn’t there yet — and still say: “Let’s go.”
But I wasn’t backed. I was seen as “trying too hard.” Or “doing too much.” They didn’t want a more info frontman. They wanted background noise.
Too many bong hits. Not enough vision.
They couldn’t see the bag of money sitting behind the talent.
From Mocked to Monitored
Over time, I learned the hard truth: some people don’t want to build with you — they just want to control, compete, or consume you.
Some mocked my ideas. Others watched closely, only to later pretend they read more thought of the same things themselves. They’d brush me off — then repeat my concepts verbatim a week later like it was divine inspiration. What’s wild? I wasn’t even trying to win. I was just living.
But envy is loud. Paranoia is contagious. And when people more info don't understand the way your mind works, they invent their own twisted stories to fill the gaps.
Spiritual Warfare and Silent Setup
And maybe what I’ve been through is more than just creative jealousy.
I’ve started to believe there were people who didn’t just dislike me — they wanted me gone. They tried to isolate me. Tried to slander me. click here There were whispers, setups, fake profiles, spiritual attacks — all of it.
Some of these folks?
Family. Old friends. Lovers.
People pretending to smile while quietly digging a hole for me.
They didn’t want me to rise. They didn’t want me supported. And some of them even tried to make it look like I was the ringleader of a crime I had nothing to do with.
Let me say this for the record:
God pulled me away from that mess. Just in time.
And I’m starting to see the trap they set for me was actually their own downfall. Their fake news. Their smear campaigns. Their lies — it's all crumbling now. One by one, the masks are falling. And the truth? It’s loud. It’s legal. It’s divine.
Keep Your Genius Close.
The lesson? I keep learning it. Over and over.
Keep your genius to yourself.
Not because you're paranoid — because you're wise. Because most people don’t really want to understand your creativity. They want to own it. Or ruin it. Or use it when it’s convenient for them.
So these days, I stay in my lane.
I don’t overshare.
I build quietly.
I let the work speak.
Because when someone asks,
“Where do you get your ideas?”
I just smile.
Because the ones who really get it — they don’t ask.
And the ones who ask?
They usually can’t handle the answer.
Roy Dawson is a lifelong creative, songwriter, and independent thinker. He doesn't chase trends. He makes them — then watches the crowd catch up.