PHQ-Nickname:
LordAsriel
Halfquake:
Garbage Fort
Level:
17
Total kills:
378,946
Birthday:
May 20th 1991
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| Mood: | sick |
| Type: | Diary entry |
| Added: | February 18th 2007, 06:16:56 |
| Visits: | 1617 |
| Rating: | 5/5 (Votes: 2) |
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 You take a look at it, pondering, calculating. You know there's a chance, no matter how small. The risk's not too big, either. That's what you live for anyway, isn't it? Doing otherwise would be throwing your life at the cold rest of conformity, of inaction. After all, what are we but agents of change? Isn't it insulting for the world to be the same after our pass?
You look at it, then. You know what's on the other side. It appears in your dreams every night, and it has your mind under assault during the day. Perhaps you don't have the exact idea; it doesn't matter. It can't possibly be worse than this, can it? I mean, what could?
Then, decided, you take a step closer and put a foot over it. It feels good, as far as your foot goes. That's the final signal you needed. You throw yourself above it. What you least expect is a steel spring to send you back. Now you know they won't let you go that easy again. You've gained their attention. They know something is on your mind, something they don't like at all. Security is tightened. A red light above someone's desk somewhere is turned on.
You can feel them spying with their all-seeing eyes. But that touch of difference is making havoc inside you. You know you won't ever be able to stay there, under those caution looks. And then, who would choose slavery after tasting freedom? They notice your internal struggle, they try to buy you with promises of richery and well-being. You fake interest, but down there you know both empty.
Is it the time? Of course it is, when if not? Isn't this the time that part of you has been expecting since... since ever? You run, you run to the other side. It doesn't matter if they catch you, they won't be able to bring you back. You're already free, free in your difference, free in your uniqueness. Every repressed thought arises. You're alive, you've been reborn. No, not reborn, but born for the very first time.
Then you take a look behind. They're still there, annoyed and bothered, but still busy with every other mind left to supervise. You take a look behind, and then take a look around. Haven't you got the means to recreate? Can't you make sure nobody else lives through that without noticing what you're experiencing?
After all, what are we but agents of change? |
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