"The World longs for a Revolution," the sharp profile led by a petite nose looked southward, seemingly unware of the glaring light from the West.
"There was one...long ago," clear blue eyes veiled with trust looked towards the dying sunlight, legs drawn up to support long elegant arms.
"It's been forgotten," another standing figure replied, one hand being used to shield their left eye from the sunset. The fourth figure said nothing, cradling a bowl in their lap, and every now and then a fin would disturb the water's surface.
"Let it be remembered once more," the first said solumnly.
"Change the four points, Revolution," the bowl was shattered, water quickly absorbing into the ground. A fish flopped on the ground, gills flapping for air.
It's odd, how people gravitate towards one another. In a theory, gravity is caused by a massive object making a sort of dent in spacetime. If that holds true, then are some people more 'massive' then others? But only certain people gravitate to other certain people, and few are truly attracted to each other for the correct reasons. What some people call 'love' and hold it close to them, and others who just mock it, even unknowningly.
"You disgust me,"
It's funny, how words hurt. And how they hurt so much more from some people then others. How words are just like knives, only their wounds are harder to see and harder to heal. As human we pride ourselves on our intelligence, and our ability to communicate, our spoke language, our superiority... Are we that superior? Is there always a need to hurt others with such cruel words? Maybe I'm just naive.
"Sorry, I don't smile much, anymore,"
They called me a fool. A fool for giving away those things dear to me to make others happy, even if it was a feigned problem. They were happy in deceiving me. Is it foolish to want to make others happy? Is it foolish to trust them?
Is it so bad to be a fool?
I hate the world. The people with their endless patterns of repeating over and over and over, unaware of that they are doing. People unware of everything around them, as they continue on in their own meaningless lives. I hate them all. They crowd the air with their voices, and trample the grass with their booted feet. Thye meet others, love, hurt, part... meaningless.
" said that you loved me,"
Such easily ticked, easily broken, easily changed creatures. Sometimes, though, as much as I hate them, I wonder if it would be so bad to be like them...
People are like goldfish, swimming around and around in an endless loop. They have an attention span that seems like five seconds, and a lifespan to match. Take away the water, and they die. Change the temperature, and they die. Give them a chunk of bleeding flesh and they'll never eat fishfood again, because they remember the taste of blood. Anything else is so easily blipped out of their tiny memories.
"You're as cold as snow,"
"Not ice?"
"...snow is much more beautiful...."