Times of Slavery

September 25, 2012 at 6:44 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Once upon a time, if a person was born a slave, he would prepare dinners, clean the rooms, take the kids to school. It would make for a better environment for him and his master. Slaves grew food and helped repair things. Their life was that of a slave, but somebody got something out of it. Occasionally, even though they were slaves, their work was appreciated, and some of them were freed.

Todays wage slaves don’t have it this awesome. They work in factories, where they produce chemicals and knickacks. For a bowl of food a day, they work their lives off for fake plastic fish and fake shitting pigs.
Who cares for that? Will they ever be made free men because someone will appreciate their work enough as may have happened to some slaves in the past?

Don’t waste your money on enslaving people, and making their lives so purpuseless. Be mindful of the things you buy. With money comes power to buy objects that further human knowledge (like buying a new computer), creativity, or just waste human time and life. With money, you are likely making people do what they really don’t feel like doing. Be kind, make their (and possibly your future) work worthwhile and appreciated.

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Courage

August 1, 2012 at 9:42 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

If you have a good idea which you tell the world – and there is a crowd of a million people to ridicule you for it, maybe there will be one among them that will not only understand, but be be able to make the million others understand and appreciate the idea too.

So do not be afraid to stand for what you know is true.

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to-do list

April 21, 2012 at 4:45 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Sometimes, feeling is just such an inconvenient thing to do.

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Sketching the Scenery

March 22, 2012 at 10:40 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

I ate my dinner, and the air was so thick, i thought it could explode.

Even when walking someplace, the cloud kept over me, as if i were still in the kitchen.

Then i saw a tree, stood in a view with a tree, and looking up towards it, something got put into perspective.

I arrived, ran around, there were so many things to do that day.

I found myself in an office, with a woman whose voice was ice cold, so condescending.

Walking someplace, it felt like i were still in that office.

Then i saw a bird flying over me, high above me, and it helped put things into perspective.

I wish i could draw from memory, even if just to remember how small some things really are.

How the biggest part of the picture is actually always filled with beautiful things.

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I’m Entitled

January 26, 2012 at 11:00 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

To everything, because i’m me.

What lies we tell ourselves, my mind, how long will you keep misleading me?

My rights, my ownership, my laws, my survival. Dissolve into a sea of ever evolving (dissolving?) information.

After the sun fades, was there ever a sunset?

Is she really dying? But, why, she is such a good person?

But then again, the sunset was pretty as well.

But next time, next time i will be prepared for it fading!

Oh dear mind, your nature is to lie; now without you, i can’t even believe myself.

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