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· Spell
Old pages · Gaza · Wise up · Prayers
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Those who are falling bit by bit under the oppression of reality until they withdraw into their own worlds Young men with thick eyeglasses, straying gazes, baby faces, messy clothes, embarrassed actions, talking with innocent passion about numbers, books and inventions, those who women make fun of and shun... The dreamy, the isolated, the impractical, those who don't know which side of bread is buttered and they don't want to know, and prefer to be in the margin... Those women who don't dream of the white dress nor diamond ring, nor wear high heel shoes, who hate make up and wear colored striped socks, colored beads, carry bizarre bags, not interested in fashion nor womanly subjects, meetings, and blabbing... The clumsy men and women who irritate others by their behaviors and choices... Those who loathe the life of certificates, universities, meetings, dialogues, assemblies, symposiums, lectures, classes, chasing success, self fulfillment, give-and-take... Those whose wishes, feelings, words bewilder others and provoke in them the feeling of weirdness and fear... The silent who observe from faraway... The left, the castaway, the forgotten, the calm, the simple... Those who reach the middle of their age and fail to find a spouse who comprehend and embrace their eccentricity... For every Dostoyevsky-idiot: Welcome to The Freak Show /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ Thank You Thanks for civilization, successful life, self fulfillment, accepting the other, positivism, and reality that turn us to freaks; not knowing who we are...
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ A Spell How one could heal from fantasy and tales. I thought when I was younger I would become mature _regardless what this word means, if it has meaning at all_, and live in the world like normal people do, and don't ask me what is normality because I have no idea. But after all these years, after all those blows of reality that are striking my head, and though I am still lonely as I used to be all my life, never caught the attention of any worthy man, not knowing what to do or how to act, still shy, silent, static, clumsy fearful, as I always have been, with my stupid mirror keeps yelling at me with the ugly reality, I still can't stop thinking I am some charming princess and a very brave adventurer wandering the world, living in a far magical world somewhere, not knowing where it is, or where I am. I am caught by those tales, as if a very wicked witch cast her unbreakable spell on my soul to never get out of the tale. Tales have poisoned me by beauty and I could never manage to heal.
Let me cast some of those spells on you... SO listen very carefully:
First some chocolate from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to hypnotize, and make you dance with Willy Wonka
Then A Lullaby from Narnia to make you leave the reality.
At last sprinkling Stardust on you to Rule The World
Then who would desire to return back and be mature and normal? /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
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