Freedom

I make the path, I break the dam,

I race and flow across the land

The sky and sea call out to me

I crack the glass and spill the sand.

I thrust the flag into the earth

With fate and purpose in my hand.

I shall not seek refuge and hide

Behind the veil of doubt and fear.

I shall not feed my empty pride

Let it starve and disappear

I shall not crawl, I shall not whine

I shall not find excuses here.

I pierce the clouds and ride the wind!

I smell the freedom flame ignite

I see it all, I see it now!

I hear the symphony tonight

I taste the wonder pure and deep

And I surrender to the light.

The Collector

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_historic_inventions

http://listverse.com/2009/11/16/10-great-achievements-of-the-human-mind/

He was a curious person, in more than one sense of the adjective. He was old, his hair was grey, but his brow wasn't withered in wrinkles and his eyes were a startling blue that speared through every translucence. The eyes he was born with; the brow he had shaped to his will.

It was his eyes that defined him. He had always felt the urge to see through things that others refused to or could not see. And he always wanted to see more. It was this urge that had been the most fulfilling part of his life and also the reason why he had always felt incomplete and unsatisfied. The dissatisfaction stemmed from his knowledge that there were so many things in the world before his eyes that he could not create. That he would always have to be a spectator and could never be a player in all the games he loved.

He was a curator. He knew about every inch of human technology since the invention of the wheel. He had a replica of the first Saturn V rocket launched, the first radio used, the first holograph, and the latest Nintendo. He had a library of the greatest books ever written, from the Gutenberg Bible to Newton's Principia Mathematica. He had a collection of the world's greatest music, from the scintillating folk songs of the gypsies to the timeless classics of Led Zeppelin. He had visited the best museums of the world and had marveled at the art of Michaelangelo and Picasso, and had set his eyes upon some of the best photographs ever taken. He was conversant in 12 languages and had learnt to write with both his hands. He found a deep meaning in surrounding himself with the greatest achievements of mankind and being able to absorb the endless stream of information.

He was always inspired, and had a painful longing to create beauty and wonder out of his thoughts. The more he created the more he found that he could create more. It was a strange mix of enjoyment and disappointment, which he had learnt to live with. But he was aware that it was only during the times that he was neither observing nor creating that he felt the contradictory emotions. And he was curious about those emotions too, and felt them voluntarily.

His eyes never missed a new sight, and his brow only wrinkled when he thought about the friction between his thoughts and actions. But he had grown into his role as the Collector of Human Endeavors. And he felt alive with each breath he took.