We all live under one sky.
It is Tuesday.
We all live under one sky.
It is Tuesday.
‘ Have you ever killed someone?’
Kinda weird question. Most of people even have not seen death, but does it mean they are not killers?
Do not be naive. That beautiful smiles and nice words are only a cover. You are dead at the same time as your mind thinks ‘ I can trust’. And no, I am not saying to do not believe in people. Everything I want to say is to control your own mind and after the trust to do not forget that you trust someone, who is the same person as you are. How many times have you lied?
But people can ask me, why do I call them killers, right? It is simple. And I am sure they do not need an explanation. But let me ask, to kill someone’s childhood, dream, motivation, happiness, faith, tenacity… is enough for being a killer? And I do not mean simple bullying in the school. Children are stupid and they do not know how to take responsibility of their actions. Child abuse, society, what closes eyes to this, always angry teachers and professors, father, who says to his daughter that her future is to become a stripper, mother, who ignores her child dream to become a designer and more people, who can take responsibility, but deliberately destroying others. Their souls become dirty. We are all dirty. And you can read the Bible, but you always will be a killer. We are all sinners.
And me too…
At least, I admit it.
Can you admit it?
It is Sunday.
' If God dies, it was not God.‘
I have seen this line on instagram and, to be honestly, I am a little scared… Does it not depend on who you consider to be God? Fuck… Considered… What is wrong with endings?
… Please, say, that it depends…
It happens again. You are thinking about what is important to you and call your reasoning bullshit. You write about your killing avarice and delete this line. You say this time you are going to live and buy a new pack of cigarettes.
How long have you started turning to yourself in the second person?
It is Friday.
I allow myself to knowingly be wrong, but it is fine, since I can be calm in the mistake. Perfectionist is killed by mistakes.
When people ask me, what have I done, I say ‘ nothing’. And I believe to my own words. But to be honestly, I have read a book ‘ The Daily Stoic.’ I have seen intriguing and colorful stories outside my consciousness. I have created simple and sensual ideas.
Listening other people I have learned to say, what do they want to hear and to be silent about what does not interest them. ‘ Nothing’ is everything, what they really want to know.
It is Wednesday.
‘ – What have you smoked? Are you fine? Whar are you doing with yourself? It is not normal.’
These words I have heard after my the last posted photo. Maybe if I did not change my style people would not ask me these questions. But now everyone thinks I use drugs.
I have to admit, I really smoke weed sometimes. But it is legal in the Netherlands. Therefore, I hate to be addicted to something or someone. My freedom is everything I have and I am not going to destroy it by my hands.
So, what is that? Schizophrenia? As my one friend asked me? Or something else?
Maybe it is only my new style? Have I ever had my own style? I am even not an artist.
I do not know, who I am, but everyone knows. People are so weird. They think, they can teach me. They think, they can change me. But they have no clue, what I have seen. They are living in their pink room without windows and with only one door. They are afraid to open it. They are afraid to go outside. They choose to smile to everyone. To be ‘a good person’. They think others do not see their falsity.
I am cold. But I have reasons for that.
I lost my pink glasses.
It is Saturday.
‘This game is not for scores; it is for the time.’ Words from anime One Outs, I have watched today.
People finish a school for going to the university. They get a degree for finding a job. They work for money, build house for a family. And in the end they forget to live. They waste a time for thinking about material things and lose their bohemia of the soul.
And I am still trying to find myself by writing. Or thinking? What do you want to hear from me? What should I say to you? I am not alone, because loneliness is so deep in my heart that I do not want to feel happiness. Sadness helps me to create a truth. Positive art? Not here. Imagine a warrior living in dystopia, but trying to follow a hedonistic lifestyle. Schizophrenia. He gets crazy and finally kills himself. No one can understand what happened. He was a good husband, a loving father, a faithful friend… He only was born in a wrong place. While Death and Life are playing chess, Destiny is playing with people.
It is Thursday.