There is a strangeness in this world, an aroma whose scent seems to confuse our minds and cloud our thoughts.
People favoring political and religious talks over literature and art.
People after money and power instead of following their passions.
People caught between being in love and actual love.
Writers who are sentenced to death for speaking out and threatening to bring down entire regimes.
Writers who are too scared to speak out and hide behind their shadows.
People caught in love affairs without being lovers.
Lovers who drift apart in the face of trial and difficulty.
People who chase jobs instead of chasing passions.
People who go to their jobs without asking about their happiness.
People dying on the streets or at the hands of others.
People who fall in love with the idea of others instead of falling for who they truly are.
People who critique others without putting any effort on their own.
People wandering in life searching for meaning.
Writers who write shit and call themselves writers.
Writers who write well and still call themselves writers.
People who strive for something without actually reaching for it…
…and others who possess that special something and fail to recognize it.
People who deny darkness in this world.
People who are afraid of loneliness.
People who constantly seek crowds.
People who are quick to abandon and forget others.
People with no respect.
People who drink, smoke and gamble.
People who don’t drink, smoke or gamble.
People who never take risks or dare to do anything adventurous.
People who follow ideals without questioning them.
People who follow people without questioning them.
Artists who are shut out from this world.
Businesses that move too fast and take over anything in this world.
Money that governs people.
Objects that govern people.
People who slay animals.
People who slay ideas.
People who slay people.
Condemning truth, change and happiness.
People who are good consumers but terrible innovators.
People who go to war.
People who create war.
Friendships that end.
Good people erased from other good people’s minds.
Close friends who become strangers overnight.
People who use people.
People who question art and writing.
People who question thinking.
People who don’t question societies and rules.
There is a strangeness to this world…and at its forefront are the writers who document it all.
And they are the ones whose voices are yet to be heard.