Rainy day.

Today was a rainy day. The last days, in fact. But today was quite special, because I took a walk by the neighborhood. Just after the rain was over.
It was a gentle rain. Calmed and quiet. And, even though it lasted for a while, I had nothing to do; so I could have it for all the day long. Once it stopped, there it was. That magical world that only appears after the rain.
So I took a walk by the street, to the supermarket and the way back, and I felt the cold wind on my skin. I could hear that noise that the shoes make against the pavement, the

one that you can only hear after the rain. The world was gray and the people were silent. Oh holy silence. I love the peace that brings the rain. It just priceless.
I returned home, after the walk, with a smile on my face.
I love the rainy days.

See you later,
Jhonny.

The perks of being hackneyed.

I don’t know why being original is so hard, sometimes.

There are some days when I’m so sick of being a wallflower that I think << Isn’t the people tired of the same thing, over and over again? >>

For example: if you wanna talk about a book nobody knows, to bring something different to this world, you’re as insivible as Charlie. No wait, even he had some Friends. But if you take the most hackneyed book of the season, then you’ll have all the attention.

It’s so frustrating... But I think it’s a test.

The smarter wins.

Goodbye,

Jhonny.

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This post it's a courtesy of Velvet Verbosity's 100 words challenge.

Speak up.

One of my favorite films is "The Help"
I love everything about it. The history, the script, the actors, the direction, the cinematography, the music, the art department... I love the whole movie.
I think that I have seen it like twenty times. But it was just in that 20th time, that I saw the film, that I really understood one of the most powerful lines of script.
There is this scene, when Skeeter is calling her editor and she is starting to explain her why is she willing to write that book. Because there must be always a reason to write a book. You don't put yourself in front of a computer, for months or years, just because the writing bug bit you. But, what is the right reason to put yourself in the job of writing a book? What is the sign that indicates you that you need to write? That you need to tell that story.

Write about what bothers you. Especially if you're the only one bothered by that.

It's so simply.
We -writers- are the voice of the people. Their way to tell the world what's going on. And what greater way to write a story, that putting on the paper what's wrong with your society. What needs to be fixed. The voices that need to be heard.
I think we lost our loyalty to ourselves. We sold our freedom to the fashion. And let our voices fell in the dephts of entertainment. We exchanged our liberty by safety. But we're not saved in a silent world.

We are not saved... that's the point.

We think that just following the system we are going to be inside a dome.  We don't even understand what the system is, where comes from their rules, for what those rules stand for, where they're gonna take us, why we have to follow them; we're just sheeps.
Meeeeh... to everything we're told, instead of asking "why?"
And is not like you're gonna go asking why to every single word you hear, but at least to those things that you don't understand. That you need to understand before to accept... or decline... or protest against. We need to start writing and/or talking about what bothers us. Especially if we're the only ones in our society bothered by that situation. Because in the singularity is where our real voice exist.
It's our duty. It's our right. It's the source of our liberty.

See you later,
Jhonny.

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This post was written because:

  

And I invite you to be a writter bandit yourself.

Facts... we can't fight it.

In my country, the goverment just signed a pact to protect the life and family.

This pact is against the homosexual marriage. This pact says that marriage is an act just between man and woman. So, the gay marriage is a threat to life and family.

I’m a Christian… and I recognize it is, by far, stupid.

You’re not gonna “protect” anything by forbidding gay rights. They’re people, not animals or things. So they have exactly the same rights that other PEOPLE have.

If you think that homosexuals are wrong, go talk to the heterosexuals who made them.

Goodbye,

Jhonny.

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This post it's a courtesy of Velvet Verbosity's 100 words challenge.

Her.

Her name was Ivonne. She was quite normal. Beautiful, in her own skin. But completely invisible.
She made no sound. Her movements were voiceless. But her eyes were awake. Awake with the dance of the light and thoughts.
She had all the time to see everyone. To study everyone. To know everyone. Without a single word.
She was in control of the room. She was the queen of her realm. Everybody owed her a salute; but she was completely invisible. Blessed with the gift of silence and the guard.
She was the most valuable human in the entire room. The others, talked to much, moved to much, tried to much to impress; when she just remained in her seat.
Nobody cared, not even once, to explore her mind. Her crazy and wild thoughts about the world. But she didn't care. She enjoyed every single day of her invisble life. Because when she became a flame, she would never return to that. She would be too bright.
So there she stood. Seated in her chair. Protecting her realm. Being the queen, in her own mind.

See you later,
Jhonny.

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This post was written because:

  

And I invite you to be a writter bandit yourself.