Few sheep had run from the herd, vexed; for the seekers they were. Lost, confused and wandering, each in a different path; when were two thoughts alike? Wolves, they were to the pack, outlaws that reneged. And perish they shall of loneliness and despair, for the herd is all there is.


Those who dream of flying with their wings tied are either delusional or rebellious. But tell me this, o wise creature, Why do you call yourself lost when you don’t know where you belong?

The rule.

If there’s a rule that makes you wanna follow, You better make new ones. (Because what makes you act without thinking isn’t worth acting upon)

I am.

I am a liar. A liar who seeks truth in a world of marionettes wired to societal archetypes. A masked crusader hiding behind his face, transcending masquerades. I am stubborn. A man vocal about his opinions, standing his ground against stereotypical perspectives and religious conservatism. I am a coward. Agitated by judgemental eyes and voices,…


“Enough is enough” said she and ripped off her wings; Walked out the door, her back now bleeding, lighted her cigarette, sipping on whiskey. “I have senses, I feel, I have a voice that speaks, I have eyes that see and a mind that thinks Oh, it’s a lost cause, this divinity, So screw you…

Your thoughts.

You are what you think you are, you’re not what you think you are and what you don’t think you are is also you. You are everywhere, there’s nowhere without you because wherever you go, you take yourself with you. Are you free? No. Are you bound? No. You’re freely bound and restrictively free. The…