Making Leather Bracelets Slip Knot

Old Scrolls.

J e'm here to do the mass, you know, those people who do not come out of a mold, the marginalized that everyone hates because they are there to show others how they are constantly to let mark as cows, those who are there to dare point the finger holes that everyone does seem to ignore, those who stand against a flawed system, which dupe any society that allows itself to be a bitch, those who stand there in front of the ideals that most people accept that nobody respects. And who will stay still, rain or shine, under torture, threat, at all!

I'm here to spot, to burn the curtain that hides behind the scene to viewers hypnotized by the illusion of the play.

I'm here to annoy the world, here is simpler.

[...]

M thoughts are intertwined in a tangle of fuzzy ideas that vanish before being reborn and die again.

always been like that, to waltz from one project to another ... How many stories lie in my drawer, unfinished, void of enthusiasm that had given birth.

I'm not made to live here now. This time is not mine. But others are not better, to look more closely.

There was always this mold when he was lying waiting to take the form called "good".

Outside these limits, you can not live in society. You are incompetent. You do not think you do not do it right.

Every day, the vice advance a huge step backwards for that virtue. The roles are reversed gradually. Soon will be crowned the whores, mothers marginalized.

Belle Epoque!

And every day a growing insanity invades my mind.
This feeling of revolt against all these "evilitions" becomes powerless in the light of realism. This impotence
becomes a rebellion against the same helplessness.
This revolt becomes folly to turn.

I'm crazy. I understand the laughter of spasmodic mad, that smile, that laugh yellow, that laugh desperation in a world that is dying on its feet.
I understand madmen. I am one.

he could believe, or even to believe that the world can change ... you must be crazy ... could only hope for the birth of a common hope of all beneficial change.
raving mad ...

Hermit.
Revolutionary.
Hermit.
Revolutionary.

Two paths may cross. Yet these are the ones that my heart chose. Remains to make a choice.

Still, still, choices.

[...]

J e was not born in an age where people forge ourselves, where we built the world which we live.
Today, it is men who claim you build, you learn to be yourself.

It's so hard to fight against the current. At best, we arrive at our slow progress in the direction we want to avoid, but we are unable to move towards that which is opposed to where we want to go.
is even more difficult when you push to the destination you want to avoid at all costs.

I would like to become a stone, one of those rocks you see unwavering, defying the current, forcing the water to split the work around and continue his journey while he stands there, solid, tough and cold .

Bute.

_______________________________

Sometimes you have to search the embers under the ashes, just to rekindle the flame which, if not extinguished, a few moments of weakness.

Like advisor. Listen, evade, provide outside perspective that could help.

Yet, I often difficult for me to advise me.

Like console. Reaching a tissue, offering his shoulder as support to awkwardly hug and say everything will be fine, that everything will work out and he must not cry.

Show a little smile then bloom is the best reward.

Yet I can not console me myself and I do not want people to do it for me.

Rereading these lines I have written a few days ago, a few months a few years ...

get the same effect as a balm, revitalizes me enough to get up, wiping tears of potential intrusive, and keep walking.

As old maps we consider, so as not to lose the path.

For it is not a strong path borrowed besides, he must often deal with weeds that are moving.

I prefer, however, these ultra-busy roads paved, as harmonious with the landscape than Santa on a surfboard.

So here I found a new use for all these scriptures, the keyboard or pen, in which I sailed since I was old enough to align three words.

Remind me who I am? Hmm, that would make too Lion King.
Remind me what I want to do, where I go, where I do not want to end.

I draw the map of my Neverland, hoping that update its contours may correspond to the real world ...