Why has everyone thought of the end of the world? Is it just a consequence of being aware of our own ending?
Or is it just our ego, again, making us think we will be there when the world ends, because we can't really die and the world continue as it as for billions of years?
Did you know that there is a caged bird that sings each dawn for his love from across my building? His love replies to him, from afar.
Yesterday I opened the window and its song was so strong. I couldn't help but remember us again, with the moon quite full.
Maybe one day I'll be free, but I know you're not going to be with me.
feeling exhausted in this solo lifetime battle everyday. suffering from racism and trying to fight it along so many other prejudices that destroy lives.
"I'm tired, boss"
I am not, because I'm always becoming.
Neither you nor me were villains; we were just humans dealing with confusion and hurt, defending ourselves.
The past is gone and written. Let's not give more meanings to it.
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