Hostage
It is better to be hostage in a cell Homer, to really feel that you are imprisoned than having the illusion
of a freedom which exists only in your mind, since looking back on just a single day of your life everything
about the Creation goes to hell and you are forced to live divided while daydreaming full of excuses for your guilts,
because it is too late now for that revolution, and you learned for good that they control you and you know it
and they will shut you up, and your truths now do not count for a penny against your daily needs which
are also counted in money, and their judgement and values with which they meassure you have to do again
with how much money you carry in your pocket, you wondering piece of meat with a nonexistant brain -since no one is receiving it-,
you moan and spread excuses while postponing for due time your creative urges, because they taught you to postpone
your needs all the time and your priorities are now counted by their meassures, and you run away to places by the sea,
and you write, and you plan things you will never find time to do and you know it, but you insist to draw
with your fingertips on the wind because they taught you to have a woman, a lover, parents you love and depend on,
you have to have a kid to adore and be a reason for you to exist, as if all that IS and every single breath you take
is not reason enough for you to be, but there is a constant need to confirm yourself by being listed in registries of men,
women or gays who want you to have a number and an identity to escort you up to your death,
an identity that reflects but a nothing other that what you are, or the same with everyone around you since everybody
has a number and an identity that means nothing to you but a lot to them, and has to do with your adulthood which
you so proudly took in your hands, and they called you a citizen with the rights and obligations that suit them,
and you walk wondering in the streets of a city for which you are only decoration or a petty actor in a show that you
never choose yourself but others did, who in their turn are as willingless and insignificant as you are,
and your tub-water and electricity bills are also escorted by your identity because this is how they always set up their societies,
these some who were again manipulated by others and so on, for you to end up a permanent and picturesque
decoration with your fingertips drawing in the wind and your moments are eternal but not understood by anyone
except some other daydreamers like you, small and huge idiots or geniuses depending on the moment,
who accept you as a company because you are an alibi for they vulgarity, and yet you exist in this pathetic crowd
and you feel needed and appreciated but you never understand how much they use you while they drive you to your
complete downfall and the selling of everything you held as sacred, but you still consider that you never denied your
heart by saying yes so many times and bowing your head so much that all mirrors are now gone because you cannot
see your face sold out and shapeless while you care for it so much every day, and that way they made you according
to the image they wanted, while you got lost and you don't even know who you are, why you are here and how
and why you shall suddenly leave without anyone being really bothered by your absence apart from those who
also existed only because you were confirming their being, for this i tell you, try to escape the reach of your breath
and rotten no more, and this not for saving yourself, because what and who to save first now that your lungs are so
used to this stench, but just to really breath for while practicing this minimum right of life. For this i tell you,
it is better to live in a prison cell where there are no bills, identity numbers and obligations, there are no forced feelings
by personal relationships and dependencies that change your life, and so you will have the pleasure to claim
that the system -if nothing else- gave you food, shelter and ample time to devote to your great self while all
the others are devoting their brain, effort and sweat to earn their living. They might earn millions per day but you will
not care about their standards, because your cell is a controlled and limited space without surprises, and you alone
will be responsible for the facts of your daily life together with the illusion of a freedom that will never be gifted to you,
because no one has it so as to give it in the first place, and you can also deceive them by drawing windows in your prison cell,
and creatures of the sea, and travels with beautiful girls and horny women, with pencils and papers with music
and songs with illusions, and life aims with funny faces, and loaves of bread with ancient statues, evergreen trees
and the leftovers of a fire in some city's highway where huge crowds demonstrate about their human rights which
were buried decades ago, and this way you can make the illusion a reality. And later you can also draw a door on cell's wall and get out...
