Trees that wear hats

Why would you believe that when I love, I love for myself, when I am with you, I am only with myself? I won't prove my desire but through my actions and my being. Should you choose not to believe them, I would know you don't share my feelings, that it is you who, all this time, only thought of yourself when being with me. Am I more than a reflection of your sharded being? Is it fair that I should long myself in the eyes of a virtual, selfless machine? You won't find yourself in me, you should have found more already, so that we can become more together. Yet, I can say the same things to both of us, so perhaps through this non-sense, we are truly alike. My illegitimate concerns.

In this crumbling of self I... It's because I am less self-aware, maybe. There are needs, obviously. Senseless talks of myself about myself, only I is listening, only I is there, but it substitutes group therapy. There are things I lack, that obsess me... things I receive and I fail to recognize. The longing for the material... I wish I could just detach. The solution appears to need to manifest itself in an instant, but more and more work is required, I... This is the time when I acknowledge my broken-ness, and my inability to tell the world about it. Down this spiral, every concept breaks down, every rule loses sense, there is a void. "Oh, I need love so badly..." How do I put that in a way that seems genuine without repeating clichees? It would seem that our... OUR generation needs to reinvent cultural movements just to be able to save itself... is it just me? But I am broken. Like a misused toy. My body is in atrophy, my mind is nothing but a under-stretch...

Dear reader, What ideals I have projected onto you, whoever you are, define me of sorts. You are the whole of my all. There is absolutely no action that I could have taken that would have meant anything if it weren't for you. Dearest of awesomest of beings, you have created another of your culture consuming kind. The absolutely only way for me to thank you is to make myself and our world, this grand everything, mutually beneficial. However, it wouldn't work if I wasn't as dear to you as you are to me so... I guess it doesn't really matter anyaway. From wherever you are, to however I am.

Pe un plan ce încearcă să mi se asemene, ce sunt eu acum, când totul e anulat? De ce răul nu poate să iasă tot, în același timp, din mine, iar eu să mă pot reconstrui? Sensul se pierde iar zilele trec. De câte ori te poți ridica și să înduri frustrarea? Este capacitatea de reînnoire a omului chiar infinită? Trebuie să aflu, trebuie să o fac? Când un apus de soare înseamnă mult, iar apoi vieți de oameni nu înseamnă nimic, greșeala e a mea și doar a mea. Vreau să reproduc schimbarea ce într-o secundă reușește să inspire, să reconstruiască. Când răul se înțelenește în mine și când se acoperă de zâmbete și încercări de bine, se face comod și nu dă să plece. Se hrănește din speranța că va pleca. Și bat la uși închise, căci doare când se face curent în casă din cauza musafirilor. E mult rău, ori iese prin război, ori mor, ori prin perseverență. Lumea se preface închisă. Știu că nu este. Dar intențiile bune rar își fac loc între o cunună de intenții și strategii politice. Între mii de o...

Extremist ideas are born in times of a crisis. Picture laws abolished. People running for their lives. The hardest struggle for survival, where all that is rancid inside ourselves surfaces. Millions just die. We rob our grand civilisation of everything anyone had ever constructed. Spaceships turned to tanks. Cans turned to bullet-shells. General fear is everywhere. Peace has no meaning. There is no "Greater Good" beyond survival. The world succumbs to all the evil things that the laws have kept inside and frustration fuelled. But, since there are no laws, what is evil? We just are, no thinking for the future, no consideration for the legacy. Reproduce, feed, we return to the natural state (modern writers so wished for it). And so we decay in violence. And as the world shatters, there remains little of religion, of "good-ness". There are no heros if the heros need to be saved. And so we bring ourselves to the brink of extinction. The few of us left are scarred ...

hgnbhgfgjmhjjmjkjhngfdfhgfnhmghjhjgjukl;/k -holds more meaning than the entirety of my stubborn life

Why does the sunset have to be so much more beautiful than me? Why does one get to hold more meaning than any part of me? Even severed, as insignificant. How does one manage to not choke on all the self-infatuation and safety that kind words provide? Who dictates the currents when no one wants to swim at all? Who are you, careless deity that sits atop a mountain of youth? What is youth anyway, since time follows no law? Can time follow anything? Is it being followed? And if so, what goes behind it, what kind of information is there before light reaches the retina, just before you wake from a coma or you realise you've wasted it all? Is it non-existance the dawn of boredom in this dance of meaningless words? What comes just before words, in the instant when meaning is produced, what comes before? Right before you decide, right before nothing is able to stop waves after waves of russian literature? Just before I started this sentence, there was another. Did that before... sente...

It is here, at the crossroads. A dangerous place. What was initially the euphoria of a crowd and the tear of a statue or flag has to be replaced by scafolding, a building site. Here, far in the in-between, where neither party wins, where the center is defined by so much more than two dimensions, that the story truly begins. Past the point when we've poured the filth in our systems that we need to see holes and blood rushing from all around. To end the ever-fulfilling anger, the constant crave for attention, the hatred... targets rarely last forever. A dictatorship always has to have an enemy to rattle their hatred against. No more dictatorships. To live and die through others in the detriment of the being. And in the process, preserve whatever ancestral flaws have been given to us. Dismiss any acknowledgements of virtue and merit. Only look ahead in the crowd, never back at those following. Nowhere does a droplet of the ocean lead the waves.  For once, be a center. If ...