More than one month passed. I am still alive. If I was a pool, you could diagnose me with a drying out-disease. I drink liters of soymilk though, but my thirst is not easy too satisfy. There were things to discover last month. I feel as if I play the game 'find the 7 errors'. Did I find all of them or are there still black holes hiding within the framework of my life? Some people hate me for what they think I am and some love me for what I think I am not. In the end you die with empty hands anyway.
Life of a tiran. I have been writing a lot this week: letters (especially to myself), papers about Shakespeare's Richards the Third. No books, no substantial things, I am even desperately behind in blogposts for Think About It. I am motivated. I want to change the world, spread the call for change, build peace as ISFIT thought me. But conflicts appear around every corner. I see conspiracy in the footsteps of silence, read corruption in the curtains. And unfairness... I have been seeing it all my life, but it strikes me more with every bloody confrontation. Dead animal bodies everywhere, devoured by mouths that preach peace... it makes me sick, drives me mad, sad, crazy...
I saw you, that makes life better, real, more inspiring, gives sense, maybe even something to live for. A life to live in the wish that I can make you feel the same way... some day.
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