Walk Idiot Walk

When you think is just like a face in the past, a silhouette, a space middle between the traffic of minds. Like the head disaster, like words without a real sense.

Sometimes i feel different, not like the other human, not like a real human, maybe just an animal or a thing, ethereal, tiny, vague to occupy a place, indisposed to be something, to create something transcendent.

Why do you hide behind a false promise? Why do you pretend you care a bit about me? No one of us will change the world even though it is within our posibilities.  

Animal, human or things, we bring down to a mediocrity insulting our capacity of leadership.