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Squizo the Artist


Squizo is a man full of pain but with love for life. He has attempted to end his own existence 4 times that he recalls. This is his illness not him being himself. Like many “crazy” people he has been abused arrested beaten in the streets by both cops and thugs. Has been neglected and treated as a person with no mind and confused with a genius of sorts. He is a sad being. His home is in his heart and mind; Understanding is not something he will ever get, but he sure tries to. This is his fault. He wants to be a normal person. There lies his insanity in plain sight for all to see. - Wanting to be a normal person is as possible as curing your illness with punishment education and overachieving, or, self-hatred and denying yourself, yourself… -I care for the future of Humanity. We are all trained to think that normalcy is real. It is also part of the illness? To want the impossible like Don Quijote is not an illness but a symptom of something worse. Wanting to be other than yourself. Wanting a construct of the ignorant mass and history of your kind to be real. Reality is also a construct and for that, in defending your truth you will find both solace and your sanity. Your a paradox a crying clown from the depth of Cristian Hell covered by the morning snow. Your connection to this Universe makes you different than most. Different than most morrons that cannot see beyond of what they have been thought and trained to think.

  • This is not my own original argument. This is not an argument at all. In simple words seeing the fabric of existence without judgment and creativity is also being insane yet I seek approval of my kin and normalcy is not a paradigm is a reality of Humanity is the depth of my pain I now laugh at myself. Oh! painful thoughts… Ideas implanted in a traumatized being. Unbroken circles of confusion. A broken man. A clown that cries instead of laughing and laughs instead of crying.

  • A soul that seeks perfection and asymmetry with balance. Pain that wants to grow to please others. Normalcy is not real. Normalcy is preponderantly stupid if be yourself is what I seek. -Why does my mind replays deceit? To whom do I owe this want? To cheat myself is not what I want. I seek unatable perfection for what? approval? of what? Could I be right when I do not seek or want anything at all?


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