The strangeness of our lives. Always seeking the truth, yet forever hiding from the cold light of day. In plain sight, we deceive ourselves with such trivial matters. Things that are worthless, that mean less than nothing. Sometimes we get sidetracked. Some great despair makes us stop and think. Some damned illness causes us to question the nature of our existence. Then we get better, and everything is as it was. The system works. We’re happy in slavery, and there’s no way we can even begin to deny it. And yet if only we could dissolve the structure of how things are. If only we could somehow change what binds us to such mediocrity, then this boring world would fall apart. Perhaps that’s every writer’s dream. To destroy the minds of others. To bring society to its knees with a new way of seeing. While others cling to the ‘safety of same’, each and every one of us is plotting a revolution. Within their minds, within their beds, and in the cobwebs that cover their dust-filled chests. If we could only do something to ignite this stale life. Find the right words somehow, and then put them in the right order. To tell a story that changes ways of being; to create magic that will make a difference. It’s so easy to be apathetic. To just do as other do and be proud of repeating the endless cycle. We have to look closer. Every stone has to be upturned. Every shadow illuminated. The secret to leading a purposeful life is not by imitating others; it’s by choosing a different path and sticking to it. Ridicule hurts, yet it’s a sign of other people’s weakness. Don’t falter in the face of such mockery. Keep putting one foot after the other, and never stop searching. Beauty is in believing. It’s in doing what feels right.