Picking up pieces of lost words I keep chasing my inspiration.
Sometimes I come across curious things that only my curiosity could see.
Picking up bits of stories I see on the streets, I keep chasing my inspiration.
Sometimes I find myself scared, with repeated stories, and, I see that more and more we have to think different.
What inspires me is trying to think about what no one observes in the stories and is there, lost, it can be a word or a sub-story within the story, it may be the dumb one who did not put out all that he saw, it may just be a delirium of mine trying to get out of the Matrix.
I get caught thinking outside the box and I get scared and at the same time fascinated.
Sometimes I see myself as a lunatic, trying to be what others are not, trying to be different on purpose.
At the end of the day, I pick up the pieces of my lunatic self, put it in the box and go back to my day in the Matrix.
Has anyone noticed that I am different? Are they all so robotized to the point of noticing it or do they see me as a freak?
Then, I follow the loop, thinking outside and going back to the box every day.
Welcome to the world as we know it.