Property is theft: Notes to a friend

I can’t believe we found words so sizeably perfect that they can fit on a small slip of paper and carried in our own pockets home. How lucky we are! It is a mere miracle to find phrases so intrinsically thoughtful that for a that moment, we did not understand it’s true meaning at a glance. “Property is theft!” I swear, for the seconds we stared down those words, confused and slightly startled, I could not understand how few words could mean so much. it was a funny discovery.

I have never thought that owning something, could be so wrong. That the notion of not sharing and having something as your own is so overlooked by society that we, ourselves could not fathom the responsibility of property. The responsibility to share. Yet, we rob someone of an experience or an item. And it isn’t something really thought about when purchasing the ownership of a thing. Isn’t that scary?

I think that in a bookstore filled to the brim with books about society, psychology and masses of George Orwell novels, those are very profound words to grace the front of a page. “Property is theft!”

We are lucky to have stumbled upon that cute little book shop with the second-hand rack standing outside.



Obstacles are there to stop us when we’re going too far. Without the knowledge of everything that we need to be prepared, we’ll make too many mistakes too soon.

But if we never remove these obstacles, if we live with them forever, we’ll always be stuck in a place of perpetuated sadness. And that’s not right.

Obstacles limit us. They permit us not to function to our full potential. They make us anxious and depressed. Forever telling us what we can and can’t do.

I’m trying. I’m trying to remove those obstacles. I’m trying to build up a certain level of fearlessness so that I can be better at handling things. Because with fearlessness, often there is higher sense of confidence that can only be gained once you find yourself. Really, it’s when you know what you want.

I don’t know. I’m just writing and writing. Because I just watched a movie. You know? That movie called Lucy. And it’s making me think about all these things that I have no control over. And all the things I do.

It’s a very hard thing to think about. But I think that once you recognise that not every boundary or limit is fixed, you can slowly break down walls. Slowly expand your knowledge and opportunities will start making themselves known.

I don’t know guys. I’m just tired.


Connected to an online world

There are days when I seriously don’t want to be connected to the internet 24/7. Where all I want to do is be as disconnected from it as possible. Because I hate that people can get in touch with me all the time. And that I’m never truly by myself. And that there’s always someone that wants me to do something even if I haven’t seen them in ages. I hate it. Absolutely hate it.

And have you noticed how you can never truly disconnect? How at every corner there’s an opportunity to connect to some free wifi? You are never free from those emails, whatsapp messages? Not even for a second now a days. Don’t get me wrong, of course it’s good every now and again, but ALL the time is a little bit too much.

Oh! And don’t you hate the amount of apps there are? There are too many! Which sounds really – in a way – spoilt. But there are too many! I wish it was simple again. Like it used to be. I miss those brick phones that I simply used as an actual phone. And which I occasionally used to play snakes on. Oh, those were the days! When the only apps you had were your phone book and games. What good times.

But who am I kidding? It’s a choice that I can make. If I really want to disconnect, all I have to do is turn my phone off for a day and not go on the computer. Maybe even rock up to the library on a more frequent basis for something OTHER than revision. But for the massive amount of books that they have locked up in there. Discover new things, learn how to knit maybe, at the LIBRARY no less!

Oh, that would be fun. That would be really fun. 🙂



The quiet grips my eyes outside
The screeching sound of silence fills the air heavy with sorrow
Over our heads, the facts pushes our necks down
Dripping our chins down to our knees
I look up and tear my eyes to the T.V
Where Towers of metal from a fragmented building collapse
Mouths open, ready to scream at shocked expressions
My dad turns down the T.V
The presenters voice rattles in the background
And our souls shake with it
The unnatural sounds of nature rising paints away the disaster occurring in a man-made world
Droplets of singing birds cascade down into our ear drums
Rustling leaves wet with tears from the clouds begin to meditate softly in the background
And yet, the stillness of the sky dumbfounds us
Pieces of winged shaped metal no longer soaring between the clouds
Creating an eerie silence for man
Allowing a bracket of natures music to be overheard in the distance


Spelling mistakes

So, something that I’ve noticed for quite a while now is that I can’t actually spell. Well, I can spell some words but not those big, daunting words that just seem to have been weirdly arranged by some manic person who has decided to deliberately make my life just that little bit harder.

But the problem is not just that I can’t spell but that I have so many words that I want to type/write but can’t because I can’t spell it. And I don’t know how to get across how frustrating that is but it is. It is so bloody frustrating because I so desperately want to put across an idea in one word but because I cannot I end up describing it in a disgusting amount of detail. Which sucks. Especially when you’re writing an essay and you want to say things that need to be hyphenated. That basically, should not to exist at all.

All I’m saying is, what’s the point in having words if you can’t arrange the letters in the proper way?

That is all I’m saying. Okay?

Nakedstreetkid out! 😛


Quoting the unquotable

It’s humorous how much I love quotes. Quoting the quotable has become one of my favourite past times.

I think there’s something so special in the way someone can sum up a complex emotion or thought in a few sentences or words. Where as I rumble and ramble and trip and slip over words so easy to pronounce, so easy to understand. It’s completely embarrassing. But it happens anyway and I don’t feel too sad over it all the time.

But, there is something truly magical about quoting the unquotable. The misfit abandoned in a sea of ignorant slurs and unhealthy dreams. The words, the thoughts and feelings that emerge in small chunks out of those unsubdued mouths surprising ears into a sudden awakening of pure delight.

Those are the quotes that make a real impact. The unexpected quotes. The real magical quotes the sucker punch you in the stomach when you turn around for one second.

As Ralph Marston said:

“If you so choose, even the unexpected setbacks can bring new and positive possibilities. If you so choose, you can find value and fulfillment in every circumstance.”

Nakedstreetkid out! 😉


Extreme politeness

Sometimes, in order to counteract my politeness, I take out a please or thank you from my sentences. I, of course, have one of the other. But in order to not pollute my sentences with politeness, I take a few out. It’s mostly because I feel like no one with take me seriously if I’m constantly saying please and thank you. Basically littering the beginning and end of my sentences with so many courtesys that you simply get sick of hearing them.

I used to be that kid that would always say sorry for everything. Sorry for dropping my pencil, sorry for breathing loudly, so god damn sorry for not looking where I was going when you bumped into me. I was that type of kid. Always apologising. I almost apologised for being alive once. Simply because I thought it was something that I ought to apologise for. The constant apologies in addition to the please and thank you’s kind of sullied by reputation. Not that I really had one to begin with. But I think it really painted me pathetic.

Of course, I’m not saying that someone who has manners is pathetic! I’m just simply saying that in my opinion I was incredibly pathetic for doing it all the time, after every word. I mean, there has to be a god damn limit to how many times you apologised a day. It made me look weaker than I actually was, all those sorry’s and pleases and thank you’s. Made me look damn well weary to be alive. I didn’t like it. And I still don’t like it.

I still do it, you know? When I’m half day-dreaming, half there. Or when I’m tired or something. It’s kind of become an automated response for me. You know, kind of ingrained into who I am. Not that I like it too terribly but it is what it is.

I’m not saying that I’m completely rude, though, so don’t get it twisted. All it is, is that instead of asking and saying a please at the end of sentence all the time, I leave it out. And when they give me what I asked for, I add a thank you. It just makes me sound a little more human and a little less stiff. Makes me not sound like I’m serving them, like a servant or something.