Other It's Different

It's Different

18th Jul, 2016 | Other

This tone has cracked illuminated by the very beautiful ray of a rare sunshine; the world is moving fast as a train and with it too much to look at. Look not to see but to find another hollow adventure into which to plunge. Would you stand in front of a speeding car for this - the right to say you lived a little? Would you design your epitaph just to be sure for there is nothing and nobody to trust a few moments away from six feet under?

Let us play a game in which we speak not with our mouths but with our minds. In their glitter and their gutter. Can we tell what we find? We look at the world through five-inch screens and hold onto moments from the edge of sticks. We dress to fit and fit to be accepted. We look for ourselves in others and look in ourselves for others. We compete with the ticking clock and learn to say what they want to hear. All of it - cock and bull.

Who is listening? They are all waiting for you to finish so they can spout their part. You have to fight loudly, painfully, tearfully, bloodily for the right to speak. And you then have the need to be listened to at all costs. But they are all waiting for you to finish so they can spout their part. So tell me, what do you make of it? Have you seen the world through your own eyes and just sat in it and soaked it in without the need to speak, to listen, to preserve the moment from the edge of sticks?

Everything you look at is looking back. To everyone, a stranger is strange. To a stranger, everyone is strange. Look to see; to tell what you find when our minds speak in their glitter and their gutter. Truth is different.

 

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