Far away, the dusts of nothingness!

(By Hella Ahmed) Will you often have your feet in the most beautiful sands this new year, only to be called a capitalist without community spirit by millionaires who want to send you on vacation to a remote little town with a pond and a church, to bring you back to the patriotic modesty of the ignorant, isolated from everything, even though your mind is sparkling golde and profitable entrepreneurship is not a right reserved solely for the haughty who imagine themselves of legendary purity? Success, fame, and luxury are their rights, not yours. Why? Absolutely no valid reason.

Will you spend your life in a small box of misery, the one chosen for you by intellectual ruin entertainers who laugh, wanting to see you wither away in it so they can laugh again and again because you dared to grow in knowledge, impact and ambition while they kept repeating the same tasteless jokes in their echo chamber to afford eating at starred restaurants and proudly traveling around the world to display it as a legitimate right, a trophy? Their world is made this way and nothing in it pleases you, so you pretend, you keep forgetting it, and it disappears. There is much better to consider.

The real world, on the other hand, is vast and smart enough; why does stupidity scrutinize you in voracious, shameless packs? They think themselves beautiful and important, the compasses of the culture of appearances, they laugh loudly into the microphone to kill time, they drink bubbles while singing. Those who crown each other year-round partner with them to be promoted, to secure big salaries; the exchange of services among the chosen ones is an unbreakable law in this small circle of strange so-called chic, an enclosure of the nebulous proclaimed virtuous. It’s prodigious.

Stop questioning the truth; it belongs to those in control. You talk about education, they treasure ideology. Obscurantism exists everywhere; you only need to turn towards it to see it radiating. The world is big and small; find the place that suits your level and make a life there. Don’t expect those below you, looking down at you, to truly find light in their pitiful pretense. Let the leaky boat sink while the flatness levels everything, and let the wind save life by carrying away the dust of nothingness. Regain your joy; they do not exist.

Ah, the dust of the ephemeral, these daily, afternoon, and evening rants, texts stolen and amplified by the deplorable like a rigged card game no one truly plays. The displays of pride built on spite will never end; they love the pseudosciences that hold authority, which logic could not counter in their system because they are incompatible with reason. A real exchange is improbable, inconceivable, but the association is extremely profitable for them. They impose these on the ignorant to keep them as sheep and perpetuate the lucrative machine of the immaculate white piston. The illusion must be maintained.

Thank you, life, for my sound mind; I doubt, I think, and I write, far from the vice of those who exhaust themselves ruining the life of the rose that does better than them. The scent of my being, the song of my strings, the touch of my languages, tell of an infinite gentleness that only hearts of wisdom and kindness can truly know. I spread my excellence everywhere for people of gratitude with high intellectual standards; it’s not the diplomas that testify to honesty but rather benevolent integrity and the embrace of truth, even though I am very proud of mine, obtained through adversity after many long nights of fervent toil, against and despite the pain, despite the contempt of the privileged who act condescendingly, thus so ignorant.