The failures! The consumed! The good-for-nothings! The irresponsible! The immature! The insane!
We are called by so many names that it's hard to keep track of them all,
But all we do is try. It is never good enough—we are never good enough.
We try to feel better! We try to get better! We try to get a job! We try to function! We try to follow a diet! We are so close to having something meaningful in our lives!
But we never do, or so they think. We never achieve, we progress; we never reach the goal, we try our best to run the race.
It's enough to drive a man sane.
Sane under society's rules! Sane in the barricaded schools! Sane acting like fools! Sane being mere tools!
Our visions often mean more than their documentaries; our words are the butter on the bread of art, and the paint on the blank canvases of existence—we give them even more than what they take from us.
Coexistence! Tolerance! Acceptance! Normalization! Integration! Socialization! Respect!
It's never genuine. It's never love, caresses and heartfelt kisses; it's never truth, only masquerades. But we can hide our faces very well.
We can appear from the shadows at any moment and bite their arteries off. We can move unnoticed until they will eventually and inevitably notice us. They can no longer ignore us; we can't be sheep for a single more second.
But psychology! Psychiatry! Pharmacology! Sedation! Numbness! Mumbles! Death!
It used to work when we lacked a mouth. We now have a full set of teeth, a tongue, lips, words that come out like tiny bullets and a purpose.
We're spitting on them all, burying their beliefs beneath the soil of yesterday and rising up
To grab the prize we were never supposed to obtain.
2020.