Revolution

Many days and many nights I spent away from the sun. When I came out, the light would sting my eyes and burn my skin. I was bound to live at night and I didn't mind, for it was the night that I felt most honest. I would walk the shiny streets of the days and looked hypocrisy everywhere I turned, the faces in the sunlight hided every spot of ugly that could be underneath. So I hid in the moonlight, with the creatures of the night, the people with no shame, the ones that society would look away from. I belonged with them.

So much time I spent away from the world, hidden in the darkness, in the loneliness. They put me away because they thought me dangerous. I wasn't violent, I didn't begin the war... But I knew to much. They were not afraid of my physical strength, they feared my brain. My ideas would eagerly spread among the dissidents, among the crowd. They locked my up to silence my brainstorm.

I never counted the days, they were too many and too quiet to be important. I did count the words, the lines, the chapters of the many books that I lived trough all those years. When they finally let me out, my thoughts were louder and kept me away from the creatures of the day, for they only care about material stuff. I became adjusted, so easily, to the night, to wander alone in the streets, to meet the servants of the shadow and speak the language of the stars. I felt them to be honest, uncorrupted by the hypocrisy of the daytime. They were the ones to give me my name, they called me Revolution.

I remember the day they came for me. I was home, talking to some friends, having a great meal. We were discussing some important matter - one that now doesn't seem 

(Revolution lives only at night, she is friends with the hookers and pimps, she talks to them about her ideas, about the war, books and the time in jail, she makes her living by writing greeting cards and slogans, she's not wanted in any newspaper or editorial house)