[THIS PAGE WAS LEFT BLANK ON PURPOSE]

I was thinking randomly a while ago. Thinking that I am losing control: losing control of my blog; losing control of parts of my life. It wasn't what I expected. It wasn't so good.

The new-found corporatism in my life is so different and so meaningful that it hurts. But, like any hurt, you just have to know what to do to reprimand it... or even to destroy it completely. Let it run out of your life. Let it float!

I was reading this document today and I was stunned to see the second page almost blank. "This page was left blank on purpose" it wrote. How come some people just don't get that monkeys can't read? And even if they did, it was not the intended target. And I emphasize "it". It's cool to see all these people walking around, doing nothing. They are not even thinking. They are not even acting. They are just responding to different (well bound to a specific hierarchy) stimuli that just happen to exist around them.

I fit in well. I was always friends with geeks, bullies and comedians alike. Yet it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough because I was always, simultaneously, the bug from the system. Whatever that system was, I was never satisfied. And I guess I never will be. It's a thin line between saying that you create your own system (or, more popular, you make your own life) and being out of any system whatsoever: a misfit. The life's worst surprise: being so difficult that you cannot adapt to it. The degree of sarcasm rises as you think that it's the only thing that you have to do as a human being: to adapt to your life in order to be able of living it, of enjoying it.

You can see them pictures all around you: pictures of success and of failure, pictures of wonder-making and of inability to move, pictures of love and hate, pictures with happy endings and with tragic ones. "One man dies so another can live" said an old saying. Once upon a time people used to guide their lives to comply with rules like that. Now we can't do that anymore! Everybody wants perfect and expects perfect. So fucking perfect that they can't even allow a small margin for error. But none of us deliver perfection. Moreover, we can't even conceive in a realistic manner that we could ever deliver perfection. It's such an utopia for us. As it should be!

I leave you with some final thoughts. We will never define "happiness" because happiness is too different from one man to another. One's happiness is one's deception, misery or even worst dream come true. The really freaky part (or read whatever you want instead of "freaky") is that the second one is the first one's friend, neighbor, parent, child, sibling or, generally said, peer. How come there is more happiness and satisfaction in the public conversations than is in real life? How come that you sometimes tend to value the opinion of a complete stranger more than you value the one of a dear person? Let it drop! Live your own happiness! "Choose life!" (as they said)

Food for thought: Can you find just two ideas - just two - that have the capability to turn your life around completely? Would you take them? Or sell?