People, People, People

People are strange, when you're a stranger, faces look ugly, when your alone. Famous Jim Morrison lyric, quite simple but in the end some truth lies beneath those simple, and sometimes, not clear and nonsense words. People, a lot of people in the world, but that word now just means a lot of, people, more than one, billions just going around like ants, up and down, right, left, like little robors following some kind of strange orders form someone, or something, somewhere. People, I am one of them, not all of the time but it is inevitable, the world needs another wheel and even though I dont like the job I must do it, but when im of work hours im no longer one of them, im the one that wants to be outside and scream to be heard, not they dont listen.

People are strange, or very human, or very stupid, or very intelligent or a mix of all of them. They just look for you when they need you, you dont exist besides certain little bizarre moments in time when for them you are useful, or some times when you are absolutely useless. Its the wheel you have to keep moving in their lives, just as some other keep moving ours, unfortunately for the outsiders, as me, usually this kind of gestures are no more than a pathetic, self indulgent way of acting, with of course no purpose or ideal whatsoever. It is just a mere random act of humanity at its lowest point, its like zombieland, its like useless but useful bunch of heads working one day after the other for some reason unknown to them. People, usually not that stupid, lets say they are practical, globalisation and consumism has made them that way, practical. You just have to look how they solve their problems, how they get out of situations just by being practical, that is a useful tool to survive in this barely bearable world, full of bloody shit and ridiculously fraglie, which no one anymore seems to notice. But well, this is life just a short breathe of something, an instant, a blink of a star and then it will all be over.

I dont know if I have become more misanthrope or humanity has made me more misanthrope. But sometimes is just unbearable, nowhere to hide, nowhere to go, just continue breathing for the empty human streets just made of flesh and bone, more than literal, and continue to evade and jst continue to survive among the ruhless and rotten eyes you see everyday. It is a shame that people are people, they just fit the word so nice that it is unthinkable of seeing it in any other way, but in the end maybe they just forgot from where and to where they are going, maybe they dont care anymore, I dont really, but still there is so much more than words, so much more than ideas, so much more than randomness, and so much more than trying or being, that everyone seems just useless.

I am worried about how I am useless in so many ways, but on the other hand I am not worried about how can I be useful to a machinery that simply doesnt work anymore. Im starting to feel I must not be here anymore, and that for some particular reason maybe I'll just go, disappear, in the end people are still going to be people, with or without me, not that im actually planning to change the world, thats not my problem, fortunately, but still I can just escape and resign to just be part of useless rotten and asleep minds that just seem to appear form nowhere and invade all thats around. When nobody needs you, you are free, the problem relies in that you usally need someone, even though you know nobody really needs you so, nobody really needs anyone, but life is such a beauty and has such colors and it is so fragile that it is impossible not to share at least for little glimpses with someone, whoever this someone is, but maybe is just an uthopia, a dream of what should be and never will, about what people should be, before being actually what they are know, just random, useless and nameless people.