How come it's the same me? Same body, same gestures, only 20 years older. That on paper. What about you? When did you stop growing up? Or, perhaps, you are just a rat in the hole, that old man's hole, in which you know you are old, you know you'll get old, you know you're worthless unless you produce something, not for you, of course. But you are happy, Happy with your worthless live, lived for the sake of the drunk weekend nights in which you can say anything you want and claim you didn't remember. You worthless piece of shit. You, who populate all the corners of our existence, you, who think that this is the way, you, who dare to show your face into the light and spend your last penny trying to evolve in the eyes of others. Do you even know who you are? A product of our society. A product of our global unification. A product of our sick and twisted globalization. And now try to think a little. What did you want to be when you grow up? That, if you even dare to remember you worthless you! I despise you! I despise all about you! I despise the fact that you live, breath, eat and laugh next to me. I know that somewhere inside you are alive. Somewhere underneath you envy someone, somewhere, somehow. Someone who makes you remember. Someone who makes you feel the smell of the air that you're breathing. Someone who makes you feel alive.......... Unfortunately for you this is not the answer and you already know it. Why don't you get a life and get real? Too many wasted lives in this lasting vision. Don't flatter yourself that someone cares anymore.
The candle glimmers through the darkened glass. As it fades away the smoke grows thicker. And its fire dances after its own music. Something we’ll never hear. Only admire and consider its simplicity perfect and beautiful.
Now it reminds me of you. And as it starts struggling for survival I hope that it will never end. But when it calms down before the final I feel that it knows that the battle is lost and it will fade away. Sure this can’t remind me of you. But it does now.
You never lost a battle. We all could hear your music. When you were there it was our music. And your fire never faded away. Never hidden behind darkened glass. Its dance was always faster and stronger. Its shine was there for everybody. It was our warmth, our joy, our laughter. Whenever we talk about it we smiled.
As never seen before you never stopped burning. You never rested, never fade away. Making us stronger, braver. And always reminding us that we got to be together, stay together, feed together, drink, smoke, fight and party together. And you loved. You loved like nobody else did. You loved us all. You loved life like no one else could, and no one else will.
One day you became faster. And you ran on twisty turns. So fast that we almost can’t see you sometimes. From that moment we could hear as you came and gone. We could distinguish your sound and your stories became more passionate. Everybody wanted for some resemblance to be just like you. Ones wanted to be fast like you, others strong like you, others wanted to be the one you love. Some wanted to feel just for a moment your passion. Those were also the days when you started loving sunny days.
You symbolized the moment. The present. Your actions were only about now.
Half man, half machine. Faster and stronger. We could never keep up. Somehow, one moment we stopped trying. You were one. One for all. Our One.
From now on your music was the loudest, your fire was the strongest and your life was all passion. That’s how the Angel found you. You were on everyone’s lips, hearts, thoughts and souls and he came for you. Because you did it all.
And you knew how to say good bye. First you left us signs. Second you gathered us all and party like you never did, loved one like you never did, and warmed us all.
And you met the Angel.
Your soul will always be a part of us. We learned from you.
We all die! Sooner or later. No matter what. We are born and all our lives we live with this certainty. Nothing new here.
The constitution and most of us claim that humans are equal.
Than why do we die different? Why some of us live for seconds and others for a century?
That wouldn’t bother me that hard. What bothers me is that good people always live shorter than the bad ones. Do you follow me? They somehow lose their battle with life on the way. As teenagers, or as grown-ups, they die sooner.
Why? I'm sure that now your mind is crossed by many examples of people you know and match the upper criteria. Maybe the good ones lose because of the emotions. Because they feel, they care, they hope and they suffer. Because they are basically human. And the others ......... nothing. Everything's the same for them. No pain, no feelings, nothing to care about. Just for themselves. Inhuman we may say.
Then I ask - what's better for each and everyone of us. To feel or not, to care or not, to suffer or not.....? And basically, who wins? The ones here or the ones up there?
Some say that the good people die faster, because somebody up there needs them earlier. Pity, cause’ we also need them down here. Sadly we do not have the power to decide. Not us. And if we change them in order not to be needed up there, the situation repeats. We won't be needing them down here either.
Maybe I want to say that if you know good people you should try to spend more time with them. Because they will never be around as long as we expect.
Maybe it's just the fact that I somehow do not want to accept this reality. Or maybe we are put to a test. In which we curse the higher power that steals these souls amongst us. In which we forget the true meaning of good and bad. A test that tears our feeling apart and makes us realize that nothing will be the same after it.
A test that we all know and which ironically is part of life.
I hate leeches! And I don’t mean it zoological. I mean human leeches. Invertebrate vertebrates living among us. Doing nothing at all. Just striving and searching for ideas, words and attitudes to steal and afterwards present and pretend to be their own. Just like the real leech, we first consider them friendly and perhaps useful, but, in reality, all they really do is to feed on our blood, on our ideas, on the real us. Never underestimate one. Because this type of person will always have a lot of so called friends to whom he/she (mainly it) can present other’s ideas as being it’s own. And yes, many of you will think of the leech that perhaps it’s intelligent and smart and funny and much appreciated. Do not waste your time listening to non-sense. All these can do is to wait and feed on other’s dreams, hopes, ideas and achievements. That’s why I hate leeches. I hate you all leeches that swarm amongst us. Don’t bother hiding under other identities. Don’t bother trying to assimilate so much from others because this will never be the real you. Don’t bother making up scenarios in which you are the center of everybody else’s universe. Don’t bother us at all. Because you were born and you are and you will always be just a leech. Did I mention that I hate you?
Late night. Bed time. But no! My senses, feelings and thoughts have been awakened by a muse. I lifted an eyebrow and started assimilating. Stealing and conceiving. Entering her mind, giving live to images that appear when she talked. Her words were full of passion. Full of things she wanted to share, to give away, but only to me. Only to the one she loved. And I felt blessed. Blessed with her love, care, power, passion, wills to share, will to help and with that fire that I could imagine burning inside her as she spoke. I envied her one moment for this passion. I knew she had it, but it was one of those moments when I received full confirmation. Her thoughts were now mine and I, as a thief I was, stole it all away, with greed and selfishness and then I started writing:
Saint-Tropez. Sea-view terrace. Table. Rich guy. Old. His wife young in her 20's. Very beautiful. Nice smile. Black glasses. Nice purse. Perfect place. Perfect music. Reggae. SMS. Someone still loves her. Her first and only boyfriend. Their love could have bought the world. Can you see behind those black glasses? Can you see big tears held and covered by those? Can you feel desperation, hate, despair in her heart? She laughs now. Maybe the clearest and most perfect smile you could ever hear. Laughing because of the status. Laughing perhaps she feels she has to. The same real thoughts held inside her.
Motorcycle guy. In his world. Searching for the perfect curve. The engine purls. Perfect suit. Perfect weather. Perfect road. One stop. One crippled young. Maybe one day dreamer gone too far. Maybe same spirit. One cry for help. Helmet up. One Dollar could make a difference. Can you see behind his eyes? Can you feel he feels the resemblance? For one moment he thinks about ways to help the other in need. His heart beats faster. His eyes are filled with pain. He shuts the helmet and rides away. The same scenery as before. Same motorcycle suit. Same engine. Same weather. Same road.
Mid-town. London. Rolls-Royce. Black. Tinted windows. Driver. Rear passenger. Rich passenger. Red light. Stop. Young beggar stands in front of his rear window. Too young. Too dirty. Hopeless eyes. Eye contact is made through tinted window. One way. One thought. One memory. One will to help. Only one second away. Same species outside his car. Million wishes to provide. Green light now. Gone.
Teacher in her 30's. Lots of kids every day. Small village. Nice village. Nice husband. Everybody loves her. She loves everybody. She loves kids. She gives them everything. Knowledge, understanding, mother care, respect, education. Everything she would like for her children. Her children that she cannot have. She tried. And tried. She would be a perfect mother. But no.
Subway. New York. Postman. Same job for years. Same salary. Same cigars smoked. No new thoughts. No new aspirations. Subway publicity. Only one sms needed. 2 Dollars. One child needs a transplant. He reads the pane. He reaches for his mobile and writes the number. The subway came. Doors are opened. Post man presses the red key on his phone and takes the train to work.
Why? Why do this basic cowardness can make the difference? Why we, humans, cannot pass this threshold and follow our primary thoughts? Why is it only us? Why don't we care? Why this lack of involvment? Why this lack of commitment? Is this the real us? Is this all we can do? Does all the despair and suffering near us generate only these seconds of humanity? Do we need to be born again, but now on the other side to compensate for what we already done? What is humain now? What can we define as natural and real? What can we do to make us better? Where does our thoughts stop and our action end?
We do not have to chase time. Small things can make a difference. Maybe our primary thoughts are the human ones. Maybe there are too many bullets left in this world.
Hooray - and the crowd screams your name. You smile and feel magic. Feel that you accomplished what others could not. Feel that you are real and your dream come true. See a smile and appreciation on the face of the one you love and you know that sharing this is something unique, something others can only dream about and something you know it's only yours. And you want it to last forever, because, deep inside, you know that this is the real you. A real you from whom you do not have to hide. A real you that is commonly accepted and appreciated as you always wished. The real you. Somehow this moment is all you wanted. All you dreamed of and never realized how much you need this. And now you got it and don't want to let go. You are happy. Fulfilled.
Reality bites! And you remember your basic condition. You remember your needs, remember that for that person you love you can't provide, remember that you are hungry. Remember that 5 seconds later, when this all will end, you will be in the same place you were before, hiding and trying to survive, whilst keeping your dignity and your status (cause this is what society requires). Your image must be the same no matter what. Your ideas and attitude should not be altered by your desperation and search for another status, which you reveal, but don't really have. And there are many. Many others out there like this. Who claim to be at least the President when in reality they sleep in caravans. With evil thoughts and evil actions. Which, in the end, forget who they really are. But you did not forget. You are the same. The same you were for years and years and the same you will be for years to come. And you are appreciated and loved just for your basic spirit. People love you. The same people that cannot hear your harsh reality, the same that can't comply to your shattered dreams, the ones that gave you and took part in your magic moment. The ones you shared with those 5 seconds of glory. The same you know revealing another reality. The same that individually share disbelief and resignation.
Nothing's better than a glass of wine next to a perfect woman who will surely love you later, combined with a fine cigar, nice movie, perfect music, candle light, sweet home and the sound of a heartbeat. Nothings better than live for the moment. This implies few thoughts, but lots of future memories, feelings, touches and a day worth living. Sinfull some may say. Innocent I write. Reality? Yes - for more than a couple of hours, yes! Like commercials - perfect reality. You all know the feeling I hope. Living a moment in which you would pray that time stops. Period - perfect for you, me, anybody/everybody. Living in a dream. Made by you. Earned and awaited, planned and applied, calm and finally yours. We may have times when we feel close to perfection just by living and breathing a perfect moment. Shared with someone who than feels exactly the same that you do. And we are satisfied.
Sad for us that our mind cannot nourish and preserve such a feeling. We do not have shelves in which we could store these moments and transform them into accomplishments. We do not have the power to understand that a moment worth living is what we are made for. We wake up and hope something happened over night and yes - you are now declared the king of the world. And all the calm and satisfaction you felt through a simple and pure moment vanished in the way of greediness and hate, false expectations and raw human nature, foolishness and last but not least vanity. Yours, mine, his, her's, everybody's. Vanity. Strange when you wake up wanting to give everything to the person you cherish the most and have nothing left to give. Actually sad.
To simplify - Life is a battlefield where victorious are the ones that through sinfully simple and innocent moments earn the feeling needed to forget about their vanity. "Human's favorite sin"
People ranking: 2 types - Sheep and wolves. No more and no less.
Either you like it or not we are all born like this. The wolf will always be a wolf and so does the sheep.
Unfortunately if you want to step to the other side it is possible, but the real nature of you will always appear sooner or later.
Unfortunately also, we will never know which side is best. Maybe sheep - for being always group connected and being able to stand out faster in front of all the others, or maybe wolf - loner and determined, well knowing his status and never mixing with the crowd.
For sure the wolf has more satisfaction when his actions are successful, but he will suffer more when these are not. But it will always have one or two reliable friends.
The sheep will have tons of so called friends, but none reliable. Also sheep have a faster way of identifying a wolf. Friendly to one point, later unfaithfull
The wolf will always be envied by others, but there will be times when you can see a wolf in sheep's clothing. Sad for him he won't have any glamor left, but his will to come back and be what he really is.
Both of them will recognize sooner or later the other one's true nature. Maybe they will change, because this suits them better. But they will never reach the real status. I repeat - sooner or later it'll come out. Really what they're made of.
So now - which one's best?
Or, better, don't even think about it. Because you, just like all the others, know how you are born.
Got friends? I mean - Do you have friends? More or less the answer should contain at least one "yes". And then I ask you: From all these so called friends how many managed to be in every single possible way exactly how you imagined they'd be? Answer: None. Sooner or later they all show us something we do not need to know or don't think imaginable about this person, but yet, they do. And then what happens? Despair, regrets, debates, fear, laughter, break-ups? No?! Nothing?! Why? - Maybe because sooner or later they all show us exactly the same thing. Maybe we already, somehow, know in our inner thoughts that this is to happen. Maybe. Or maybe our coward existence does not allow us to take action. Or maybe sometimes we think that actually we are not the "normal" ones in this society. And so we cannot issue requests of how others should behave towards us. Hm. Sad? Do we actually choose our friends or are they a results of our actions? And then we can ask again: Who is the normal one? Someone told me that normality is what people in general commonly accept. So, as everything that surrounds us, normality changes as we go by. Meaning that something accepted as normal yesterday, today can be totally the opposite. So then I ask you again: Do you have friends?
I met someone. Not long ago. That means I was 31, so I had an ideea of what love should be. And this person - much older than me, probably the same spirit, told me that: If you really love someone, really, really love him, than you should let him do whatever he feels like. Because of this immense feeling you should let him do whatever he wants and you should love him more for every action he takes. And all my thoughts and beliefs changed. I agreed at some point to this ideea and now everything has a different shape. A milder one. Strange of me because I always wanted in my mind a certain controll. Not anymore. This cannot coexist with love.
I started believing this when I was 19. Now I'm 32 and this still rules my beliefs. Helped a lot finding out this as a teenager. Rough was I in my actions, ruthless in my knowledge and raw in my mind. My castle of cards went down in a split second when I realized that our primary needs of recognition don't matter anymore and our wills and ideas of ego centrism vanish in front of a simple idea of giving and sharing. Of hoping and earning, of seeking and letting go, of being human. As if the whole base of humanity is built on true love. Do not worry, the other side kept reapearing. And the cicle reapeated itself. And anyhow you take it and/or accept it, it will always be around. Claiming his rights as if it represented another base of humanity. And sometimes you end up saying that it really is. You act as if it were the base of your belief and, in the end, you end up thinking of the same part. Shameless and cowardness. Two qualities never accepted, but always present. Surroundinng us, giving shape for our closest friends. Unfortunate, but real. Hard, but somehow acceptable. Making us ask how and why. And then "why?" seems the hardest question.