alfaro vive carajo
if the walls could speak i would tell them everything
i have observed in many people an arrogant way of thinking of their own lives and life in general as better than everyone elses. hollow ideals and a selfishness paralleled to that of the truly ignorant and arrogant. closed eyes do not change anything, they look inward and see a hollow shell but outward the shell is golden and floats above others. they think they are always right and have the clearest view of reality when in fact their eyes remain shut. yet they hear no reason or outside objective judgement reality for them is what they make it and nothing else unparallel to actual reality. Also this hollowness of the person forces them to take out their displeasure in themselves on other people, irrationality their tools with closed ears and dry tears they cry. then the sigh why are things like this, they ask, why do not things change why doesnt the world change surely i am not doing anything, i must run away for this place does not accept me.
a bronze statue with legs for running but strength not to confront. change must come from within yet it this desire to change is supressed by the bearer and nothing changes, the same problems recur without resolution, stagnant mire of hatred and filth, why must things be this way and it continues the same
noone is better than anyone else or deserves mkore than anyone else, know what im saying?
i have observed in many people an arrogant way of thinking of their own lives and life in general as better than everyone elses. hollow ideals and a selfishness paralleled to that of the truly ignorant and arrogant. closed eyes do not change anything, they look inward and see a hollow shell but outward the shell is golden and floats above others. they think they are always right and have the clearest view of reality when in fact their eyes remain shut. yet they hear no reason or outside objective judgement reality for them is what they make it and nothing else unparallel to actual reality. Also this hollowness of the person forces them to take out their displeasure in themselves on other people, irrationality their tools with closed ears and dry tears they cry. then the sigh why are things like this, they ask, why do not things change why doesnt the world change surely i am not doing anything, i must run away for this place does not accept me.
a bronze statue with legs for running but strength not to confront. change must come from within yet it this desire to change is supressed by the bearer and nothing changes, the same problems recur without resolution, stagnant mire of hatred and filth, why must things be this way and it continues the same
noone is better than anyone else or deserves mkore than anyone else, know what im saying?