Life, love, dreams…

The man across the street…

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There is a man across the street. Everything tells that he is different. With his eyes lost in clouds and an unaware smile he strolls aimlessly in this crazy city. He talks to himself; he runs then suddenly stops to look at something…then he goes dipper in an unknown world staring sadly the sky. A smile reappears on his face – a childish smile, like he saw an angel.

  How does his world look like?   Who is actually more insane, we – the majority who fallows some stupid rules without living a life we want, or he – the man who chose to create his own reality?

Why is it so easy to stigmatize people who are different then we are? Who said that the majority is equal to a standard or normality? Maybe, the whole world is nothing then a big bedlam. How else would you explain this urge of majority to force the people who don’t fallow the rules, to fit in those tiny patterns?

 People with a different perspective on life are declared mad. Being an authentic personality means freak! Forget your dreams, forget your thoughts and inner voice, you have to be as majority is! And who in the end is mad?

Our sanity was chosen as being “normal”, but it could be otherwise. So… the border sometimes is really thin and nobody can guaranty anything.


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