we are who we are

"they say the eyes are the mirror to your soul. bullshit. it's the hands. they are the sign of a true gentleman."

how is it like not to feel anything and at the same time to be able to create masterpieces with the help of your soul? I sometimes wonder why people, often, so very often, creators of works of art that others stare at and would not even be able to describe in words, could be such insensitive or lack even the most common of manners. I tell it from the start. I am not about to hand out names. walking the streets, one can, at times, be a party to events that may change thoughts, mentalities. or people. as a whole. I once saw a singer, strolling. his melodies talk about love, women and all the shapes and forms they can take or come to life in. one young girl went to ask for an autograph. politely, with a smile on her face and pen and paper in her hands. he, as from another world, where signs of affection are perhaps outlawed, passed by, in an obvious change of pace, without even the slightest of gestures. almost infuriated his air dared to be breathed in and out by someone else. and I cannot help asking: where did he, then, find all those words to depict femininity and endearment, when, at such a pure display of affection, he remained cold and untouched?

people don't change. a gentleman would walk but never run.