By Lisa Noorzai

If breathing makes me alive...
Am I dead in between breaths?

Why are people so afraid of dying
and why is everybody hopelessly trying...

to make sense out of this life of suffering
to make sense out of why they´re struggling...

If time is an illusion- I am enslaved to an Illusion
All my fears of not having/or loosing
time are forced upon me for the sake of an illusion?

This world is as complicated as my thoughts are to myself and you,
but people walk around as if they all had a clue...
About life.
About purpose.
About sense...
but I see them all running after green paper
and caged up like animals behind a fence.

Built by themselves to hide questions that don't fit in,
to hide themselves and everything they´re dealing with- within.

Why do we have to belong so much
and give so many fucks about stuff and such?

What am I and where did I come from-
Where am I going-What's inner peace-
And where can I get some?

Why did I pick myself up after I fell?
How do I know nothing about life-
but still live so well...

Why am I rich in comparison to most human kind?
Destiny's cruel petition and its already signed?
Why do we fight and kill and misjudge?
Why can't our minds and moral be our judge?

Why am I good and what has made some of them turn bad?
Or are we just an exception-
When did everyone become so mad?

Why am I numb when I hear about disasters worldwide?
Why if I cry-I run away and hide?

Since when is having green paper better than showing emotion
more important than love and devotion?
More important than trust and sanity?
More important than truth and honesty?

Why does having green paper make you feel better?
Why does paper make us chase cheddar?

Why can't I pay in dedication and authenticity?
Why can't I pay in courage and sincerity?

You can get back at me when you find answers of prosperity.