Keep staring my love. Stare until you bore a hole into me. Stare until you can see my insides and question my diet. Stare until you watch me being born and dying. When the echoes of our arguments fade. Stare a little longer. Stare until bittersweet becomes only bitter, And when my walk towards you, Pushes you away... When you stare into madness, Will you also see hope?
...
Maybe then you'll come back to me. Because the hope you saw was my love, Drying your tears.
Life is very strange...
So strange that insanity actually only makes life less strange (you know that to be true). So strange that being a simple person (not a genius) leaves one feeling more satisfied. So strange that the more satisfied with little you are, the happier you'll be with having more, yet we live in a world where those with more have such "power" over those who have less that if you are ever to feel satisfied, it means you have broken free of the charade (which means it was an illusion of "power" in the first place).
Power = a human hierarchy of the worship of greed.
These things tell you that life is about momentum, sacrifice and simplicity. Yet, when you have mastered life, what you really learn is that life is about control. Not the overbearing "I am the President" sort of the control, but the "I can play any song ever created for this guitar" kind of control.