Life? What is life?

It's been a long time... You probably think there are no news. You are wrong; you know, in one month, many things can happen. Life is amazing and scary at the same time. In one month you can be a totally different person, and people can be strangers to you. The closest can go further and ones you didn't know existed carve their names in your heart. Where do they go, and where did they come from? I think and ask myself:

What is the meaning in everything? Does everything really have a meaning? Who are people, anyway? Are they a product of our dreams? Of our hopes? Do we make them up and set the perfect matches? Or do the matches simply exist? (Because we do match!) Why do we often have to give up extraordinary good things? Only because life is unfair? Who makes it unfair? Isn't it the very people who live it? So, why do we do this to our own life? Don't we want to be happy? Are we afraid of that?

I thoroughly believe in life, in feelings, in meanings; I believe in love and in happiness.

That is why, for many years I have been quoting Hannah Arendt: “I somehow don't fit”. I don't see myself in a world where life is respected. Do you know what life is? No! We don't really know it because we tend not to use our senses and acknowledge every feeling – not even the tiniest – that comes from every part of our body and soul. No! We don't live like that, because we need money, we need work, we need degrees, we need all the bull shit men created to be powerful. We live as machines; we live for nothing. We are senseless people in a meaningless world. And we will die rotten inside from the coldness of the blood that runs our vain veins carrying around nothing other then what is banal. Our blood needs the heat; we don't give it what it needs, instead: We kill for nothing; we kill feelings; we kill ourselves.

We are killers in a world where life was given to us.

When I hear water hitting the ground, and when I blow smoke against the bush and see the light that comes from behind it; when I see a beautiful smile with light coming from inside, and bright eyes above it; when heat touches my body; when words reach me; when I feel cold and then warm; when I see my angel or think of them; when I touch the ground, the light, the smiles and the eyes and then smell the heat, what is wet, and the nature of all. This is when I feel life. Tell me I can't smell, hear, touch, taste and see; you tell me I am dead.

We all live in exile.

This is what I don't wanna see dead:

Do you get it?!