Chapter FIVE


The song of the fairies broke lots of those interferences and connected with lots of fairies. Lots of people stopped running because of that song. In just one day there were plenty of grown ups living in the natural world. That's why some children decided to build houses for everyone, and of course, as children love, the houses were houses in the trees. Thousands of trees had become the homes of thousands of humans. Like the birds.

That night, the man who knows everything could see more and more fires burning around, burning many different things, like the need to be somebody in this world, the need to put oneself in a box, the need to describe oneself. That night, he had a dream: somebody who was not him, was singing his songs. He explained it to some children the next morning.

  • That was not a dream! That happened for certain!
  • Really?
  • Yes! The first man to get out from the road was the one who was singing... But I must tell you, I prefer the way you sing.
  • Why is that?
  • Because your voice can touch me, he is just another singer.
  • Everybody needs time to learn my friend.

Then, the man who knows everything went to find the first man who get out from the road.

  • I did it. I listened to the fairies - said the young man.
  • And what did they say?
  • Nothing new actually.
  • What do you mean?
  • A long time ago, when I started running on the road I had a dream: I wanted to be a singer, but it was just a dream. My family taught me to make a difference betwen dreams and reality, thinking that dreams are just dreams, thinking that my dream would never come true. I grew up forgetting my dream, but the fairies just reminded me what it was about.
  • So if you want to be a singer, what are you gonna sing?
  • I have always tried to make my own songs... but they will never be as good as yours.
  • My songs need to be good, because they need to connect with everybody, because I want to change the world. But not everybody needs to change the world.
  • That's right.
  • And making songs on the road must be a hard thing to do. You'll see how your songs become more beautiful here.
  • Can I ask you a question?
  • Yes.
  • How do you make your songs?
  • First it comes the melody, that's the feeling. Then they come the words, the reason of the song. They fit perfectly with every note of the melody, it looks like the melody was waiting for them. Then, I realise why I'm making the song, and what the message is to give to the world. Sometimes I have the melody waiting for a long time, but at the end lyrics always come. Because first I have a feeling and time always gives me the reason.

A group of birds passed flying over them, that was the bird from yesterday who was having a flight with his friends. The man who knows everything said:

  • Birds are free, but not because they can fly, not because of their wings. They feel freedom when they sing.

Then he took his guitar and the words came for a melody that had been waiting for a long time. He sang this new song for him and for the rest of the world.


  • I'm gonna practice everyday, i'm gonna work hard, very hard, because I want to be a good singer someday.
  • I like your enthusiasm, but please, don't take it as hard thing to do, and over all, don't take it as a job. Your dream is more than that. The idea of working hard to get your goals is an idea from the road, it's a result of so much competition and the belief that wining is getting the top of a mountain. But someday you'll realise the mountain is a fake mountain. It's an idea that will burn in your fire. They teach you that life is hard and you have to work and work and work to be somebody. Somebody that they like. They tell you this is a survival rule, but actually you will be killing yourself. Life is not hard, life is a chance to be happy. And if you take your dream as a job it will become a job and it won't be your dream anymore. If you follow their rules, the rules will follow you, and you won't be free, like a bird. You have your own rules, your own nature to do your thing.

The man who knows everything grapped a very old folded paper from his pocket. He unfolded it and gave it to the young man. This is what he could read there.

  • Can I keep it? -asked the young man.
  • I'm afraid I cannot give it to you. It's something sacred for me.
  • What do you mean ?
  • My grandfather wrote it for me. He is a great singer and taught me the way to sing. So this is very important to me, it's something I cannot forget, something I'll always love and respect. Something sacred.

The X Commandaments were very important for the man who knows everything, maybe because he had the same blood and the same nature as his grandfather. But everyone is different and one tip can be good for somebody and bad for another one. The young man wrote them down. He would have to find his own meaning for those words, or maybe find out that they have no meaning for him.