When Millionaires Disregard Us

Who am I to be proud of myself? I am realistic and hardly I could find anything significant about myself, regarding that certain blind pride. But I always found something significant in the connection between love and destiny, love and death, love and challenge. I’ve been insistent in exploring these connections, in various proportions, adding love as sweet syrup to the bitter compound served by destiny to her naughty kids. I pushed to the limit just to find out where the limit actually was. We flattened the market by producing 7 billion of us. Most of those who are able to dream imagine very simple matters. And those who dream high hardly will ever get a chance to follow their dreams. Life introduces its rules to all of us. And since we do not dare to create the rules ourselves, we have to accept the existing rules. They say: don’t try to meet somebody, better become somebody. They say: don’t believe your past, believe your future. They say: it is important where you finish, not where you start. But it is also important where you have been on the way. Naturally, people have a remarkable ability to make even simple things complicated. And then they do their best to fight hard and overcome it. To overcome what they invented themselves. Then they suffer. Suffer badly. Then they complain how badly they suffer. Then they give birth to the new unhappy creatures and raise them according to what this civilization requires. Wherever I have been, - and that’s quite some places, I did not find anything significant. They want your money, your body, your will… - But what were your expectations? - Eternity.