Being writers we tend to contemplate everything we come across. One such thing is the people we come across every day. They are a rather spongy thing. People can be beautiful, ugly, or carry a whole array of features, but one thing is common to all – they are selfish.
I have stopped trusting them and I am afraid that all of my hard work at changing this world might disappear into thin air once I disagree with them. Personally, I have always admired still, lifeless and immobile objects (exception: animals and plants), because they don't scare me at all. They can be observed, they can be talked to, and most significantly they can be reached out to.
But people, they are scary. They judge, they stare, they talk, they crib, they chastise endlessly, until they pull the life out of you and make you one of them. They don't keep quiet when asked to, they speak with double the force, double the hate and double the emotion-less voice. They scare me because there's no guarantee they won't turn to robots, they pour out what's fed into them, they can turn to terrorists and call obliteration, they hate true souls, they reprimand, they snatch, they don't let you live.
They are also full of surprises, you don't know when a spiny rambutan would turn to a soft peach, do you know why? For the extraction of benefit and self gain.
But there's another category of anti-people, they are the saddest, muddiest, and most cowardly of all creatures, they fear death, death inflicted by people. They want this world to be a world and life to be full of life, they live in reveries, they cry endlessly on one of those hot, spooky, cuss words spoken by the cracked lips of people, and they try to change, but they are mistaken, they are trying to change hell.
It would never change.