What are your hours and years flowing for?
You stay in the office late, you rarely lay down in the grass all day enjoying the sky’s blueness.
You’re spending the nights in your soulless flat.
You’re paying a rent for your mere existence.
You never meet the owners of everything you know of.
You yourself own nothing that matters to your heart.
That is because you yourself behave like a possession, doing everything they tell you.
When have you last consulted your heart before you said “Yes,” to you owners?
When have you done something sacred, yet so much out of the ordinary that you risked being locked into a madhouse?
Among mad people being considered mad is the ultimate confirmation of sanity.
Money is all you bring home from the office, it is your only heritage.
You use the money to fill your oversize flat with stuff so the empty walls wouldn’t echo your own empty life back at you.
You haven’t made any of this stuff, you bought it on a sale.
Everything you own was made by ant people thousands of miles away.
You won’t leave a monument of your being when you leave; even if you want a monument it will be build by others.
Your children will be soul-less because the homes they were raised in are soul-less.
Until your children’s children are completely tamed.
Living cramped in shelters wherein bodies are no more than the stuff that suffocates their spirit so they would stop to dream.
Machines needs workers, not dreamers.
Workers can be lured with shit-sales, not the Dreamers. They dream aware, aware, aware — their eyes are wide open.
Do yourself a favor and dream on, dream big, dream while sleeping and especially while awake!
Don’t let anyone take away your dreams! Therein hides the essence of who you really are …
As Valerie in V for Vendetta puts it:
I shall die here.
Every inch of me shall perish.
… but one.
It is small, and it is fragile…
… and it is the only thing
in the world worth having.
We must never lose it or give it away.
We must never let them take it from us.