Once Wanda Waterman got it into her head that she was a poet and a composer, she forthwith tormented friends, families, and teachers with her verses and songs. Her works would always elicit comments like, “It’s so nice that you can do this to help you deal with your emotional problems,” which only sent her into piques of rage followed by bouts of self-pity and a sense of being profoundly misunderstood. “I’m ahead of my time,” Wanda would sigh, “and will only be appreciated after I’m gone.” Eventually someone who’d never read her poetry commented, “A poet, eh? What are you doing here? You should be in Montreal.” It had never taken much to get Wanda to do anything stupid, as her college chums had often tittered. And so she pulled up stakes for Montreal, working as a music journalist, writing other people’s blogs and pretending to be a bohemian poet and singer/songwriter. Here, for your enjoyment, are some of her songs. She also revels in collaborating with fellow misfit geniuses. You can see her comics, interviews, and articles here: https://themindfulbard.com.
To get the answer to this question you'll need to read my book, Dervish at the Crossroads, which should be out some time next year.