Waking

As the music stops and the room turns dark, I realize that I am no longer asleep. I hear my mouth hiss a curse word and a moment later the new day dawns upon me.

Another day of chores. You need to drink or you'll go mad of thirst, then die; you need to piss or you'll burst. Those are given, acceptable. But then you are told that you need to prove that you know the difference between a king and a prime minister, and recognize your right to put a fucking piece of paper in a little box every four years, or they won't let you have a job, and they won't let you study what you want to study.

In fact, they won't let you do your things on your terms, not simply because they are unsure weather they will benefit from it in the end, but because then there would be no convention, and without that, no pretend wall to lean against. They would panic.

The world is only fucked up for one reason. It's because the majority of the population have no dreams. Can make no distinction between necessities and stupidities. Are too thick to accept that our great grandmother was a monkey-like animal.

If they would accept that they are monkeys maybe they would stop acting like ants.