I'm afraid of hates.

I've seen too much unhappiness tonight.
Unreasonable.
Whatever you believe in, be it numbers, genes, Darwin, God, yourself...
You will, or are, asking why?
But you're not a child anymore, knowing why spoons aren't flat doesn't satisfy you.
And, well... neither it satisfies a child. Whatever you answer, they ask another why. And then they ask you about life and stars and love and you don't know.
And then you say you get impatient...but really, it's all just being uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with being asked questions that you can't figure out the answer for.

No matter what you get up for in the mornings and no matter what you think about when you go to sleep...
I just hope you...
never become cruel, cynical.
It's a simple wish, and a cheesy one.

Not caring is okay.
Caring to harm is evil.

This is very much alike a post I put up here recently...

It's worth living to feel.  Feel anything. Goodbye sucks but... that feeling in your gut justifies it. I think it does, anyway...
It's late night/early morning.
I barely know what I'm writing anymore.
But I desire to write, to share.
No matter what?
No. I wish to share this feeling. Empty, yet swarming.
That's not a thing a keyboard could do, shamefully.
It is a time for me to give up the America.
See you around? Not for a while I guess.

There is a time barrier...
falling asleep now gives an end to all of this.
Do I want it to end?
I sort of did, when it was distant.
Do I want now?
Well, shit.
This is not the first time I submit myself to chance, god, fate... and whatever it is, it hasn't been treating me too badly.

13 stripes and 50 stars.
One triangle, one stripe.

Bigger is better?
or
"Všude dobře, doma nejlíp?"

Missing around.

I am not shooting, yet I am starting to miss.
Miss, will you miss me?
And you, miss-ter?
Maybe I'm just miss-interpreting all the signals.
Will I ever see you again? That remains a miss-tery.
But it's not all miss-erable.

It's miss-demeanor time.
And I'm not going to miss a single chance to
get a kiss under the miss-tletoe.

I'm a big fan of this shit.

It's strange...
Maybe I expected something to be physically different at this point.
I thought about what's going to happen for months...
And now it's just nineteen hours away.
I'm going home.

I feel anxious inside. It is one of the strangest feelings. I can clearly remember a young black girl waving at me and with a full smile saying "Have a nice life!"
That's rather drastic. Have a nice life. That's a nice way of saying "From this point on I will not partake in anything related to you. You are out of my life and I am out of yours. This is game-over. Continue button does not work. It's your fault. But I am not mad. It's a bit sad. I found answer to Shakespeare. Not to be.
It's not to be."

Historians say it's too early now to evaluate second world war.
I say it's hard to rate the shit that didn't even hit the fan yet.

Beautiful video. And it includes shots from Prague!

Pretty Lights - We Must Go On (official music video) from Pretty Lights Music on Vimeo.

Is it art yet?

There used to be times, when writing was only used to tell stories about knights with super-natural abilities who would kill all their foes.
Sounds a bit like Call of Duty, doesn't it?

All art forms take much time and need much development to evolve into something else than a low form of entertainment.
First movies were a thing for fun-fairs and circuses. The fact that the pictures move was just enough to entertain people. Since then viewers' tastes and expectations have made a huge leap.
But what about art forms even more recent than movies?
What about videogames? Electronic music? Hip hop?
They still haven't exhausted the excitement of "something new, flashy!"
Barely anyone would call a plot-less, pointless shooter game a work of art.
Much of mainstream hip hop uses formula "beat+bragging=Top 1 Billboard).
Most mainstream electronic music only cares about sound. Harmony? Melody? Tempo? All replaced with "wubwubwub" (yes, I'm simplifying. I know not all mainstream electro is dubsteb; but you get the point).

To me this makes it really interesting to care about these genres. I can see them evolve with my very eyes. And I'm pleased by there being many artists ahead of their time. You wouldn't say that's even possible with something so contemporary as videogames or electronic music, but it sure happens.
I was very pleased when I recently saw Pretty Lights' video for We Must Go On. I loved it. It's loving atmosphere is very refreshing, considering how violent the messages usually  conveyed by electro are.
I loved Heavy Rain. It's perhaps my new favorite videogame. It's brilliant, innovative, heart-touching.

Perhaps the revolution arrived. Even Call of Duty, shining beacon of all primitive in gaming, began to change; Black Ops 2 would support that. I am also delighted by the fact that Beyond: Good and Evil is going to be one of the biggest PS3 games next year. Projects like this and studios like Quantic Dream sure deserve their bite of mainstream media.

And of course the most mature and developed is indie scene. There is at least strong correlation - is not causation - between simple and pleasing (as opposed to beautiful) art and consumerist business model.

Perhaps poetry is the greatest of all arts, then? You certainly can't make any money with poetry.