''Words scarcely inspire inspiration. Action always do''
Today I took the last bus home from work as usual. The night was freaking hot, and with no air-conditioning I felt like I was melting in a plastic container. The bus is almost empty, there are two guys who I always meet during this route, one of them going home from work, and the older one does something downtown which I couldn't care less to know.
But it's not just us. On the back there are three people, two guys and a girl. They are talking loud and strange. They can't keep their mouth in command, their bodies look weak and skinny. Their skin seems like full of scars, their clothes old, dirty and weared-off. And their eyes red within their black eye sockets, as if they're about to fall off from their skull.
Through all of these years hanging out downtown I got used to the sight of wasted junkies. But that doesn't mean I feel nice having them around. Usually my guts turn inside out just in the thought of their rotten inner self and the diseases they might be carring.
Once I tried to understand them you know. Being enslaved to something is the worst humiliation, even if it's not something like drugs, even if it's something like not being able to stay away from a computer for a day, or to surrender to your gluttonous desires all the time. Not beacause you have to, but because you need to.
We already have the potential for greatness, to live our lives free from any addiction controlling our body, mind and life.We are not meant to live our lives in slumber..