Tons of pages that have not been seen, tons of words written to be read but there is not a single soul who wants to read them anymore, thousands of stories waiting for someone who comes along and take and understand and create the meaning. There is no greater loss in the world than that, the loss of the stories.
Stories were created to fullfil other people's spaces in their minds, to take them as theirs and spread stories into the world like a disease, a disease which is feeding from desire, from knowledge, from emotions and images.
There is a horse at the end of this room, waiting for me, yelling at me to hurry up, there is dog in trouble, and puppies waiting for their mother. There are animals, and human beings, and objects in my stories that come into life and tell the stories for me, for I have not been capable of doing it, I am too simple, too shalow.
Words bring light into this world covered with darkness, with ignorance, with lack of knowledge and even lack of words, but we can change that, we can create and tell and lie, yes, lie. Telling a lie to people is not so bad, for they create a story in their heads, and keep that idea for them to write it afterwards.
Stories were created to be spread, to be read, to be retell and recreated. And our minds were created for that purpose as well, not to be fullfilled with emptiness, so let's imagine something, let's create stories, let's have fun, let's lie to ourselves and transports us to a new world far away from this.
