Indifference

Presumptuos man! the reason wouldst thou find,
Why formed so weak, so little and so blind?
Alexander Pope

yesterday she wanted to go to the movies, spend sometime hidden in the darkness, enyoing being anonymus and go for a while where other men and women are, experiencing life trough art and cinema. She went with her dear painter, friend who is playing a strange part in her life these days. They went to see Capote.

life and rage, facing the beast that is inside of us, our true self, what separates us from him, the fact that when you had the knife you didn´t stick it into someone else´s guts, but your own flesh, cut, cut, cut, wide open, bleeding, but the blood is yours and you don´t wake up in the morning covered with the blood of some teenage, or your mother. but you are still so full of rage, but there is a difference, the two of you are the same, but there is a difference, when you look into each other´s eyes and you can see the dark abysm that´s behind them, the monster hidden in his heart and you feel shivers down your spine. you know who is guilty and who is innocent, the one that it is still inside jail, and you are helpless and doný know how to help him. and it´s been so many years fighting these lost battles, leaving the fire of your soul behind. and you are the beast, the demon, with your selfishness and your hypocrisy and your turning your head to the other side. but there is a difference. and before you loose what´s left of your sanity you need to find it.