Artists: I fell in love with the Revolution.
I’m a peaceful person. I don’t believe in violence. I believe in ideas.
I don’t believe in any ideology. I believe in art.
I’m not deaf. I can hear the music.
I’m not blind. I can see the paintings and the pictures.
I’m not an illiterate. I can read the words.
Not every song comes from an Artist. But many do.
Not every picture or every painting comes from an Artist. But many do.
Not every written piece comes from an Artist. But many do.
I know Artists are cursed with the Truth. With the third eye, always looking, never talking. Sometimes writing.
I’m friend with all the Demons I met, and I guess I’ll meet some more of them, until the day I’ll die. I’ll make them my friends too.
I have an army. We are many. We are Legion. We’re not afraid.
Meanwhile, I fell in love with the Revolution.
I fell in love with the Art expressing our pain, our sorrow, our fear, our joy.
Our fear.
I see people dying. I see people being borned.
I see humanity suffering and calling themselves the Earth.
Earth is suffering: not true. The truth is WE are.
Earth is dying: not true. The truth is WE will.
But not today, maybe.
Yesterday was the Earth overshoot day: humanity consumed all the natural resources available in 2021. Not so good to know. Is ignorance really a blessing?
Meanwhile, tyrants do their propaganda.
Most of us don’t believe in democracy anymore.
We can see it’s an Ochlocracy.
Mind the gap. London memories, right?
I’m not a tyrant, I’m not a Queen, but I’m an artist.
I’ll use my tools to scream so much that everyone will hear me.
Thermocline going south. How long before I’ll see a hurricane, here in Europe, as the ones whipping the world?
How long before I’ll see another war, but so much closer than before?
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long? How long?
Listen to the lyrics, not just the music.
I don’t believe in violence. I believe in art.
I don’t believe in God. I believe in people.
All Revolutions are made by numbers. Not women, nor men: numbers. We’re lucky: mystical creatures are part of our army.
We’re people, not walking stereotypes.
I’m just one more. I’m a little drop in an ocean full of plastic.
I won’t succed. I know. But I’ll die trying.
Who am I, after all, if not a mirror?
I believe in the butterfly effect.
I saw a brownish butterfly dying today. It fell on the street, dancing as the leaves in autumn. It heard the music, but I paid attention to the lyrics.
