Disagreement, words against the modern conception of freedom.
—That’s too risqué. — well-known breach, oftenly overlooked until the path where "will happen" and "happened" meet.
—Don’t be fool; instead, I would like to consider it a delightful place to encounter with those with the startled faces! — I cringed, what was left for us? The simple-minded, the ones whose immediate decision stemmed from an unsatisfied need to feel safe, not to transcend.
We, the unwise heap who found the gods, the gods that have repeatedly abandoned us in the darkest of times.
I sat as the rain drowned the kids, under the appellation they used to describe death; "a blessing", "a message of faith", a gruesome reminder of their paucity.
Wine gushed during seven days and seven nights, to the pleased eyes of the land-owners, kindness could only be conceived when people drank until unconsciousness, danced until they bled and fucked until exhaustation, this too was a benighted understatement.
As a restless, I thought human complexity could only be understood when darkness came and all preconceptions were burnt to the root, where there was no love and god’s slogan had zero effect: misery.
I witnessed how times changed the orientation but not the origin, the desire of enslaving each other, the undying wish to rule everything but oneself. Amused on how little men acquired massive acceptation among its equals, how being ruled by a stranger was more favorable than not being ruled at all!
Thus generations gained a name, characteristics, and antecedents; humanity was not only singularized in words, but also considered, according to the time they were born, as individuals. Millions of people born on the age of war will remain in the after-math as a singular description: fanatic.
I chose to believe in the only proved truth: this too shall pass, regardless of the fact that there isn’t such an established sequence of events to assume that.
So I ask again, not because I still am unaware of the response, but because I have heard how stomach ache has powered the greatest rebellions; What is left for us, the unburnt, the worshipers, the ones who refuse to reconcile with immortality? The collective.
