Surrounded by idiots

The king didn't want an odalisque to supply him with everything he was missing.

The king looked at his kingdom from the window of his castle, a masterpiece of the modern architecture. He felt a kind of emptiness inside his chest and that luxury and comfort was just a lie, a getaway. The more he liked richness, he wasn't pleased to see his wonderful castle surrounded by poverty and ignorance. He didn't want social justice because he didn't want his culture to be discovered and admired by the stupids that didn't understand a thing of it. He wanted the world to be full of people like him, but as it wasn't, the emptiness feeling was a constant in his life.

Throwing his brain through the window , burning the knowledge, living surrounded by odalisques and female assistants that used to reduce themselves to a mere sexual object didn't help. It was just a temporary sedative. It was like using drugs and after seeing the ugliness of the world when the effect was gone, he wanted to drug himself more, but he knew that drugging was just an illusion.

He wanted to shorten his disturbing thoughts to a 140 characters tweet or even less. It was as if he wrote in the air, as if he spoke and the more the people try to understand him, they couldn't. The more you read, listen, absorb and study any kind of experience, you will only comprehend it when you live it.

He was tired. Tired of speaking and nobody listening. Tired of people once stupid that now are specialized critics from important things to banal things. Tired of the exaggerated bliss to disguise an emptiness. Tired of being surrounded by idiots that he thought they deserved his respect and, after the traditional vanishing, he noticed that he lost his time with asshole ones.

The king didn't want an odalisque to supply him with everything he was missing. He had already lived the time he thought a woman could fill up his emptiness. He just wanted to meet people that thought like him. Perhaps it would fade a little his loneliness feeling.

EDDIE VEDDER - Society by guccis2000

Dry seeds, infertile soil

Dry seeds, infertile soil

The clichezist farmer sold the seeds to the naive peasant. He told him that for the seeds to germinate, to grow and to provide the food, he was supposed to bury the seeds, to water, to take care, just it. So he could sit on the bench, Claudia, he had just to wait the plant to develop.

It wasn't what happened. The peasant followed the clichezist farmer's advices but the seeds didn't develop even with all his efforts. Nothing of the plant growing, nothing of fruits, nothing of food. The peasant fell died on the ground and his body was devoured by the vultures. Dry seeds were planted in the infertile soil in a desert somewhere in Algeria.