Pretending

I had been busy, really busy after all I am just a kid. I have my issues. But I don’t like it. Writing destiny is hell of a job, I think I am grounded now.

Have you ever felt like just in the middle of something you realize everything’s a plan, a whole intricate, carefully woven plan - against you. You can’t raise your head, you are afraid to look into the eyes, you are in a lockdown! The plan is to cease me from creating. Creating anything.

I ought to listen to omens and fall off, they say. I am not an easy kid, I answer. And then the chuckling, the giggling, the wrath, the red.

I have painted my tattoo and I seriously want to go deep. Revolutions, Rebels, Revelations - all in there, the empire of human mind. This ain’t a crime, this is about looking for yourself. This ain’t defying customs and beliefs, this is about writing your own destiny.