Epidemic Sickness

Walli is sick. He knows that the whole world around him is sick. This society is sick.

His university is sick with plaguing sickness all around the obvious and clandestine corners.

The gardens are sick with bold flowers wandering and seeking a hidden place… somewhere behind a tree or on a bench.

His city is sick. His country is sick. His whole damn world is sick…

Worshippers in the mosques are sick. They have strange infatuations. They commit what the sinners don’t dare to.

Crowd of the city can turn into a mob within seconds. Sick mobs are around the cities. Burning a person is like burning a matchstick.

A well-dressed man on-his-routine can be killed with a fragile reason by anyone.

The sickness is hounding at a stinking level. One sick man will beat another man. And then all the men around will be plagued to the same sickness and will start beating that unfortunate human being. Then thousands of sick people will gather… they will beat, they will strip him naked, they will kick on his parts, and then they will burn him to death.

Then I think who is more unfortunate: those who are burning or those who are burned?

Animals have certainly more privilege than…

Sick words!

Sick world!

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