Finding Purpose Through Creating : twenty one pilots

twenty one pilots is a duo of Colombus, Ohio natives, Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun.The band began in 2009 as a trio of Joseph and two others. The original three members released one album before splitting in 2011, which is when drummer Dun entered the picture.

The pair has stayed strong since. They signed with Fueled by Ramen in 2012 and released their third album, Vessel in 2013. This album helped them gain popularity with songs like House of Gold and Car Radio, a redone version of a song off their second album, Regional at Best from 2011.

 

 

Their two most recent albums have had the greatest success. Their 2015 release, Blurryface, was the first album where every song was certified gold. Six of the 14 songs even reached platinum. Their most recent album, Trench, was released in early October of 2018 and has been on Billboards top 100 album sales chart for 26 weeks. The album peaked at #2 and is currently #88.

Despite the popularity, their songs are not full of meaningless fluff and many contain themes of depression, anxiety, and more. In Trench, Joseph writes from the perspective of a fictional world which he created to, among other things, represent depression.

Writing in this way is one of the ways that Joseph has said he has found purpose, which has been a resounding theme throughout the bands albums. Kitchen Sink from Regional at Best discusses this directly. In the first verse Joseph raps,

“I’m a kitchen sink

You don’t know what that means
Because a kitchen sink to you is not a kitchen sink to me
Okay, friend?

Are you searching for purpose?

Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
Then paint something, and it might be wordless
Pointless curses, nonsense verses
You’ll see purpose start to surface

No one else is dealing with your demons, meaning
Maybe defeating them could be the beginning of your meaning, friend.”

 

 

Joseph writes this in an attempt to encourage himself and others to find purpose through the process of creating. Even if the creation is of no value to anyone else, it can still have value to the creator.

twenty one pilots would not be who they are without this aspect of themselves, the striving for meaning and to connect with others. So many aspects of their works seem to be to help others think and find meaning for themselves. This is typified by the third verse of Car Radio,

“Faith is to be awake

 And to be awake is for us to think
And for us to think is to be alive

And I will try with every rhyme
To come across like I am dying
To let you know you need to try to think.”

 

 

We can all learn something from this band. We all want meaning, purpose, and value in our lives. As twenty one pilots shows, one way to find meaning, is to create.

 

 

Bibliography

Top Album Sales : Page 1. (n.d.). Retrieved April 15, 2019, from https://www.billboard.com/charts/top-album-sales
Twenty One Pilots Return With New Music & Tour. (n.d.). Retrieved April 15, 2019, from https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.grammy.com/grammys/news/twenty-one-pilots-release-new-music-announce-tour-dates?amp
Twenty One Pilots’ ‘Blurryface’ Becomes First Album With Every Song RIAA-Certified Gold. (n.d.). Retrieved April 15, 2019, from https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.billboard.com/amp/articles/columns/rock/8223671/twenty-one-pilots-blurryface-every-song-riaa-gold
​twenty one pilots (Ft. Zack Joseph) – Kitchen Sink. (n.d.). Retrieved April 15, 2019, from https://www.google.com/amp/s/genius.com/amp/Twenty-one-pilots-kitchen-sink-lyrics
​twenty one pilots – Car Radio. (n.d.). Retrieved April 15, 2019, from https://www.google.com/amp/s/genius.com/amp/Twenty-one-pilots-car-radio-lyrics

Just me, my mug, and my mind.

Bare feet padded down the carpeted staircase of my small home. Though hindered by the bag of laundry I carried and the injury to my left knee, I was feeling refreshed and alive from my time spent with God that morning.

As I neared the kitchen a sharp smell assaulted my nostrils. Oh, right, the trash. I pulled my shirt over my nose to shield my precious sensory neurons from the violent odor.

My exposed feet embraced the varying contours of the ground on the quick journey to the swamp green sentinel standing watch by the road to the rest of the world. I passed my malodorous sack on to his hands.

Leaving the loyal sentry behind I reentered the kitchen and lifted the glass barrier between the inner and the outer realms. The screen, however, remained. Its continual, filtering presence a comfort, even while knowing that a simple push could send it toppling to the floor.

After beginning a load of laundry and partaking in some delectable yogurt, I filled a mug with creamer, hot chocolate, black tea, and half-calf coffee. I stirred the mixture with a butter knife and found a surprisingly tasty combination.

As I sipped the concoction from a large mug, my eyes were drawn to the outside world. Nature’s melody entered through the small, porous square. I gazed through the lens and felt the pull towards the trees and the air.

I considered bringing the rectangle that was with me nearly every moment, but decided against it as well as the notebook I had delved into my room upstairs for.

No, today it would be just me, my mug, and my mind out in the open air.

I was excited, but felt a strange trill of fear as my toes tapped along the wood to the banister. An array of activity passed through my heart and mind. Fear, fog, intrigue, sweet joy. A pair of blue jays flitted through the branches above the ground. One stopped for a moment and seemed to meet my eyes, as if it were interested in me as well.

The birds soon moved on from my sight, perhaps they would be seen by another.

My next-door neighbor, an older gentleman in a red shirt, stepped through the door onto his porch. We greeted each other with smiles, though trepidation had entered my heart.

The man was friendly and began telling me stories of the critters that had arrived, mostly unbidden, around his house and in the trees behind. I was happy to hear his words, but also nervous at the prospect of conversing. Fortunately, he seemed content with my small responses and continued to speak for awhile before returning to his dwelling place.

I smiled and thanked God that I’d gotten to speak with this man. It was rare that I spent time on this porch so I was grateful to have received the opportunity to connect with my neighbor.

I too, soon returned to the familiar walls of my home. The electric rectangle lay where I had last seen it, on the kitchen table near the notebook I’d left behind.

I wondered, if I had brought either object outside, would my experience have been the same?

Would my neighbor have spoken to me if I had brought that glowing shield with me? Would I have seen the jays? Felt the joy? Felt the fear?

I had walked into another world with fewer barriers around me.

Did this man see something familiar in me that contributed to his inclination to speak to me? Did he see something that is becoming increasingly rare?

Someone simply looking out into the world.

Just me, my mug, and my mind.

Lucent Hearts

The sun reaches its peak

As bright souls assemble

Surrounding me

But I am not besieged

Their warmth envelops me

The hand of joy fills our spirits

As our incandescent hearts fill with concerted laughter

 

Slowly the daylight slips away

But the air is not devoid of light

Radiance roosts behind each face

Filling the holes in every space

The twilight cannot claim the gleam

 

Fire climbs clouds and greets the sky

Unblinking as our spirits diffuse

Sole beams wink from the distance

Bringing light to respective lands

But our hearts are ever lucent

And will converge again one day

Sweet Nothing

You ripped my heart open then whispered, you’re beautiful

Throwing up honeyed words you shaped your mesmeric mask

Drawing me in you lifted soft lips to my ear

And breathed sweet nothing

 

Then you left me, beaten and wanting

My mangled heart greeted fresh air

The gashes cried my love and blood

Dripping them down among the dirt

 

The earth choked through the desecrated drops

Permeating the crust they mingled with clear water

Reservoirs grew nebulous with their dance

And furthered the forests