ти пак хората ти много...може и да са много знам ли...тия въпроси аз ги оставам природата/времето да ги реши...може да ме обвинят че трябва да се боря за нещо и ако всеки мисли като мен > какво ще стане...или че ако опре до мен или до дете мое друго ще приказвам...прави ще са и да и не...
но еволюцията продължава...бетонобъркачките си работят и съперниците им са други бетонобъркачки...ние сме мънички частици...и се борим на друго ниво...с що годе равни на нас...дори и да се издигнем на ниво в което сме в състояние да контролираме малко дейността на бетонобъркачката...там ще има ще имаме респективните по "зли" опоненти...

изкушавам се да споделя един любим текст на Corian от
"A short History of Decay"

In itself, every idea is neutral..but man animates ideas, projects his flames and flaws into them...Idolaters by instinct, we convert the object of our dreams ...into Unconditional.
Man's power to adore is responsible for all his crimes: A man who loves a god unduly forces other men to love his god, eager to exterminate them if they refuse... Once man loses his faculty of indifference he becomes a potential murder...We kill only in the name of god or his counterfeits...
In every mystic outburst, the moans of victims paralled the moans of ecstasy...Scaffolds, dungeaons, jails flourish only in the shadow of faith - of that need to believe which has infested the mind forever. The devil pales besides the man who owns a truth, his truth.....
A human being possessed by a belief and not eager to pass it on others is a phenomenon alien to the earth, where our mania for salvation makes life unbreathable. Look around you...everyone trying to remedy everyone's life... The sidewalks and hospitals overflow with reformers. Society - an inferno of Savoirs!
It is enough for me to hear someone talk sincerely about ideals, about future... to hear him say "we" with a certain inflection of assurance - for me to consider him my enemy. I see in him a tyrant...
We mistrust the swindler, the trickster, the conman; yet to them we can impute none of history's great convulsions; believing in nothing, it is not they who rummage in your hearts...
In every man sleeps a prophet, and when he wakes there is a little more evil in the world!

Strange is our Situation Here Upon Earth