I can feel your touch, with elegance and style, with class
and wisdom, while I walk through the alley, and every face I
see blooms like a butterfly in its first flight. Though you
are far from me in physical distance, your grace never fails
to reach my surrounding, bypassing the corruption of my
jealousy, and the wickedness of those who capture themselves
as hostages. I then remember the words of Ghete 'The action
is everything while the praise is nothing," and I wonder if
you will ever get the splendor you so much deserve, yet
despise. And you know me as you know the back of your hand,
and you remember that I live for glory and adoration, and so
I shall never be sane. And I know you. You live for the
beastly grab of flesh, so you will never be shamed. I pass
the tests of my inner judges, the marks I get are nothing
but stains on my worn out clothes, the clothes I wear to
decieve, the clothes I wear to protect. I don't regret being
humiliated by life, being stepped on by the giant feet of
social conventions. I have grown aside from you, yet I
notice it when you step in my life with your enormous
shadow, which is never recognized by anyone but me, or maybe
also by whoever sees the cameras of the sun and the stars at
night, the direction of words and the soothing powers of
colors. I then rise and join your act, I step back into my
own shoes and dance my dance, claiming my glamorous impact
on all those confused by lack of meaning, the lack of sense
and absentness of logic. They will one day find themselves
in attempt to defeat their fear with laws of mathematics and
social sciences, just as I once tried and failed.