A Character Who Does Not Want To Be Written.


I don’t think I am ever going to make it. It comes and goes, comes and goes, comes and goes… what the hell is it? Is it some kind of talent or just musings of an ill mind. When the world kicks me I fell on paper and pen and scribble a damn piece of writing. I hate this part of me that comes in action when everything else seems to collapsed.
I want to be separated from me. Yes, I want to look at myself like someone else does. I want to understand myself. I want to be free. Free of every boundary. But these damn rules. I hate rules. I want a life with no order to follow from anyone. I want to feel my own right on myself. I want to look like I am. I do not want to use conditioners after shampoo. I want to live with my frizzy hair. I do not want a freckle free skin. I want this flawed skin. It is so me. I do not want to obey others. I want to go somewhere with no rules. I don’t want any strings attached. I want to go crazy and live like that. I want to be a writer, a musician, a teacher, an astronaut and then when I will find myself getting bored in the space I want to come back to earth and sit beside a lake. I want to read books. I want to tear the pages of the same books and make stencils. I want to color the things in my favorite shades. I want to take away all the colors. Make things black and white. I want to separate all the black from white, I want to eliminate the grey area. And then I want to splash colors on everything. I want to be wrong and be proud rather than be right and imprisoned. I am angry. I am angry with all the rules and civilizational development. I hate being civilized. I want to go nuts in the jungle and browse internet from a tree top. I am a character who desperately want to write its own story. I do not want to be written.

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