My Happy Prince

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They told me, if you could really read, you would be seeing life.

That's quite true in some sense anyhow.

I was there, on stage. I was often there.

I would love to share, but because we are Thais, we could not listen.

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Being Thais is problematic.

We would love to show our faces up on stage.

We smiled.

Then we said "bite me!" to each other.

Down here.

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Living like a Thai is problematic.

Like finding our shirt to wear.

Why we were all born in a same day?

Yes, a same day.

A same chosen day.

That's problematic.

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What could we read from being Thais?

Being Thais, can we really read?

Can we really ask?

Can we really question?

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Or all you could ask is, are you really Thai?

Is that all the question we could ask?

And then live together in a same chosen day.

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When will they get to learn?

When will you could really read?

Reading being Thais.

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Skeptic.

Sin.

Conformism.

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And then, my Happy Prince is crying.

Sorrowful Happiness

Renew world order,

Reread your politics,

Rewrite your policy.

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We have to live together,

not for now, but for a long time since.

Conformists have sorrowful happiness,

Others sacrifice themselves,

just to display their own believes.

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Please...

Renew world order,

Reread your politics,

Rewrite your policy.

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You have to understand,

nowadays lives, living like an old brick house.

Foundation was shattered,

Holes dominated roof,

and people are hollowed.

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We need no ruler.

We need no organized system.

Whatsoever ones.

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Just live.

In an orderless world of peace.

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Like the old days.

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When we were young.

Trees

Once upon a time, there were trees.

Trees were there for once upon a time.

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Should I be tree?

Always there.

Living serenely for a while,

and then silently died away.

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Sucked up carbondioxide,

give out breathable air,

for what results to come?

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Once upon a time, there were stones,

stones were there for once upon a time,

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Should I be stone?

Living like rocks,

unnoticed of things passed.

Yet changed through times.

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Standing there,

ready to be blown by wind,

carved by water,

and at last crumblingly decayed.

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Once upon a time, there were human being.

They lived for a while.

Not as long as trees and stones.

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Blog

I don't need to write any blog at all.
I have no desire to masturbate or express myself intellectually, socially, or whatsoever.
But a guy from lonely world, world of aimless wandering told me to write a blog, just to find some new catches.
I'm not sure I would find anything from writing blog.
Would you please help me finding reasons why I should write blog?