Have you noticed how the world seems to be falling through our fingers like sand? Do you get the sense that the ozone’s hole has relinquished its atmospheric duties as we collapse within ourselves? It appears as though our protection is gone, our security infiltrated. Has life always been like this? So suggestive, so insensitive? I’m walking around in a world that is imploding and we are too indifferent to even notice. Our illuminated faces are robbed of emotion as the “powers at be” decide where our attention has detention.
I can’t remember the last time I was actually laughing when I claimed to be. We are simply all following the same program, the same formula for complacency. The beautiful people play out the “American Dream” on the big screen and we believe every word. We leave the theaters as we readjust our priorities in our heads, we want what they wanted. How sad is it that we are swayed by mere fables. We are affected by glorified wives tales, and somehow we swear to our own “uniqueness”. Perhaps the common thirst for uniqueness is in fact the poison to originality.
You see, as we all shuffle toward our own current, we look to our left and our right to determine our progress. By doing this we end up taking notes from his journey and remembering highlights from her dreams. We all end up in the same holding pattern. We crave recognition as we starve creativity.
Flipping through old photos I see it wasn’t always like this. Or at least, their disguises were better before our time. The black-and-white photos suggest something I do not recognize, something I may never understand or even live to see for myself. I guess I can chalk this mystery up to generational values. Morals these days, unfortunately they went from cornerstones to lawn ornaments. So easily changed, so quickly replaced.
I suppose I’m in search of stability, heck, I’d settle for some consistency. Politicians would be able to shake hands more often if they weren’t so busy crossing their fingers behind their back.
Could we go back in time? I would trade progress for loyalty without hesitation. Remember when our words were currency and rain meant growth? I’m sure it was near the time where saying, “I have your back,” meant just that. It wasn’t an underhanded way to get a better grip on someone before you threw them under the bus. I hate living in a land where people stab you in the back before they even shake your hand. There is no longer a need for footpaths, we’ll just walk all over each other to get where we wish.
It’s a matter of decency, it’s a game of conduct.
With every hateful word that we let slip through the loose gates that guard our true thoughts, we empale our livelihood. We tarnish our own name and throw our reputation to the dogs in the same blink of an eye.
Solidarity entices me as I calculate the damage left in our wake.
For now I’ll set a fire on my own.
I’ll use the sunshine, it’s considered obsolete to most. I’ll use its heat to set a flame to the earth. That greenery that offers us oxygen, that cradles us as we so arrogantly run around with our hands overs our ears shouting for immortality. Somehow, some way, this world will be repaired. Hearts will be mended and grudges will become bridges, I swear. Let our tombstones read:
“Lover toward the Creator and His creation. Repairer of Mankind.”
Legends of Youth: 