Reflexions one can have during an Art Exam.

15th November 2013.

I'm here waiting for that something scary happens, but the very fact that that scary thing doesn'tt happen is the scariest thing of all right now.

Who is going to give me back all this wasted time among four walls? Could we ever say really that our happiest time in life is this? Or is not this the reason so the rest of our lives are unhappy later? They would say that I live in a kind of strange fiction, and life is not what I think it is, and they may be right, because they make life be the way it is, always so full of false needs that do not exist, always with that insane poetry that took us to insanity for so long ago.

I'm suposed to pas this exam but do I really want to go on? or did I become Turin's horse? I'd wish the life makes me destroy myself, life keeps me in the middle of fear, I still want to get rid of all this that is killing me so softly, like a poison that poisons you and makes you get yonky of it, you need that thing that kills you because you really think you need it.

All my partners were scared before starting the exam, They'll be happy or sad according to the marks they will have gotten later! But do they really want to live this Ohhh! Tell me God! How can I really finish with this existence to be born again without the mediocrity of these manners?

I'm filling this paper with meaningless content. This paper was suposed to be used in an awefull art history exam, instead of that, I've given it the chance to be something else, the word that cannot save me, words are not anything else but sounds that represent real things or suposed to be real.

Any lie that we say about our undestranding of reality is pure fiction, this exam I'm suposed to pass is also a fiction, my life has become a fiction that cannot go on, it's not like those shows, the show doesn't always have to go on, I'm not the only one who lives a fiction , but I may be the only one over here who realized it.

That's the main diference that makes me become the really unhappy one. I'm not happy because I cannot put up with this lie when they're not happy because they cannot have the life that oficcially is the best one; Full of belongings, an easy life, their lie and mine  are the same, but I'm the one who wants to get rid of it.

Why to become a philosophy teacher if what I want is to live phylosophy? I should get out of this place and not come back anymore. Running away from somewhere sometimes is the most beautyfull of the strikes. An strike that makes you stronger, to give up on all they made so your life is peacefull. Easy lives are lives that existed and exist to be nothing. Running away from that you're suposed to put up with because someone thinks it's unbrave not to face it  In truth running away from your walls makes you the braviest lamb. Could you ever imagine a lamb that runs away from the farm? how could you ever say it's not a brave fact?