That day, I’m turning on television and there's news, and life remains a separate entity from that news. People still have to wash underpants during war. There's history on the news: “Neil Armstrong has landed, and he's not a God”. Why waste time on insoluble problems? Why would they smash the heads of their neighbours together over different opinions? Why don’t we hustle to our own imagination? Reality doesn't evolve around the tears that come after watching a television commercial for baby soap. And humans. Sometimes they’re just busy being philosopher while philosophising is overrated. People do are just sit around and think, then grow fat. With this smell of stale cigarette breath, rather choose to cross the boundaries...and kicking the stones to act.
I’m laughing. I know, i’m one of those humanbeings. I’m not a tiger. I’m not an elephant. I’m not a monkey. But there’s a thin line. Mammal. That's how they are. They don't think, they repeat. They don't digest, they copy. The only true way of thinking for themselves is to create options of their own, options that never exist. I have to choose. I wasn’t realized that i was being an amateur idealist. Amateur? Yeah.. there are moments when they say i had to learn that i'm not a handyman by nature. The objects constructed by me that exist in the world are few, but i built it optimastically to rock this earth! Put up signs, sell it! But then again..... Guess i have to put back my idealism, back on track. Again, I’m only humanbeing afterall.
So I decided not to peek from around corner to corner. I put on my shoes, thoughts to be expanded and put into chapters. I’m trying to break in. Just like sudden chaotic ideas that leap and breach into my brain that makes my head twitch, there’s nothing perplexing to me about a big bang, big progress. Progress like we’re living like there’s no tomorrow, but still doing nothing. Hell yeah in progress we trust. From life..including love. Love is powerful, but so is addiction. By the beauty of the free-swimming blooms, beware of the truth, is she really beautiful or another crazy gangster? Life, love, others, the whole thing is mistery to us.
Footsteps were the only sound down there, i'm wearing my best suit. Listening my favorite tunes, humming and not to forget bringing my toothbrush. I'm taking the journey of my sanity, to the place where real dreaming is contagious.
I am what i am. I’ve never run out of time anyway.