Mighty
Sept. 6 2007 2:50am
I have not written in what feels like an entire lifetime. I might as well not have existed before now- and it's really been that long in my mind's perspective paranoia and absolutely skewed reality.
We have played our songs. Loud & true. My lover sleeps, exhausted in the bed hardly big enough for the two of us. But we are happy. For the most part, most of the time. We are the dream that they speak of when you are young, the wishful thinking you spend your life thinking of, and the true and absolute hallelujah that resonates past the lines of religion or dispositions.
We got it good, as bad as sometimes it may seem- but only when we let our dire circumstances overshadow our real life, the real love that breathes fully in all of our hard-earned hours. The real love that is the last breath fought for, well-earned, before restless minds fall to slumber.
And at 2:55 in the morning, as the city, and my lover, and my dearest friends all sleep, I can think, so clearly, I can hear the joy & jubilation of this life that I've been missing for what seems so long. I could never even start to tell you how low this old heat can go, apathy takes over like the black disease…..the killer (unassuming) mold from the water receding hurricane, the cancer of the heart of a healthy man. It's a treacherous disease, but those who don't entirely succumb, only learn to be true conquerors. So, I've been fighting my quiet battles and feel quite certain I will come out on top. One of these days, I'll be a rehabilitated soul, one day soon, I feel for sure.
And what is sacred anymore? When myths have been relieved of their smoke & mirrors and you have been left a sober and so-much-older soul. What is sacred when you've found the muse in the machine and you've given it all up for a little piece of your own sanctity? All that you know to be true, as seldom or as often as it may relieve itself to you.
We are fighters. We are a mighty breed. We wake to seek and sleep to dream of how to better fulfill the seeking, in the waking hours, halfway such a dream. We are this twenty first century knights and chivalry, for all the joy, for all the precious, that we so often overlook in our daily marching.
At just twenty-four years of this marching, half spent in the dark, I feel almost past prime- that of some industry standard. A blackhole of time consumed by a serious of almosts and close calls. We are all almost the next big things. Don't trust the mouths of others- or yourself really. All that you can know is that feeling in your gut, when you know that you know. And I'm pretty sure, that's the only time in this futile life that you truly have it made. When you get that giddy little girl in your belly shaking around like an evangelist, and you start to believe in faith and things far beyond your former comprehension.
That is when you got it made.
This world is far, far, far from a just and fair place. I have been reading my history and if anything, all I have learned is that we are, and have always been, killers and thieves. But among the blood, treachery and toil, among the absolute most median of us are true saviors, single hearts bigger than the selfish desires of a nation worth of men, single souls stronger than the tide that moves this endless sea. And this is what gives me hope in what otherwise, can sometimes seem appear to be an insurmountable army of precedents and established protocols, for what we are called of, as machines against our far more human lives.
Slavery, in the history book sense, was abolished (technically, though, as we all know, not really at all) in eighteen sixty-five, involuntary servitude. But the rich, still, received the fat end of that jagged stick. For then on they were not only entitled to the poor black population, but the poor, the working class, at large- white, brown, black, red or fucking polka-dotted.
The bread and butter of this country, those who wash the sheets and type the petitions, grow the greens and heard the sheep- left to bare-minimum living from here until the end. Waking before the sun to work, for what? Not a ginourmous flat screen tv or vacation to Bali, but to work from dawn til dusk for the simple right to exist. To eat, find sustenance and keep a roof over their head. To just get by, and barely do that. Without the prospect of an early retirement or a life that they, themselves are entitled to. There are taxes to pay and landlords that are owed. Our modern day slave holding corporations, the bourgeois, the have and have nots, just divided by more 'equal' more 'democratic' terms. We can pretend the fight is fair. But it has never been so. We might as well be shackled in cotton fields. It's no matter of skin; it's economic class in our modern day. And the fight spans far greater than any color scheme.
Remember, those grandiose mansions are all built upon the backs of those who work because they have no other options. Who, for the majority, are not welcome to health care when they fall sick, who, for the majority, cannot afford to be sick, for necessity of a paycheck.
Wealth in modern day American equals importance, equality, reasonable treatment, and reasonable options. And I think the greatest charm of that wealth to me, is the option to change the options for the rest. We are not ALL meant to be millionaires, it's impossible. But we should ALL be able to live and love, to enjoy our lives, freely without being a slave to its modern implications. We are far more technologically advanced than we were 50 years ago, yet our work hours are much longer, and our vacation time far more conservative than ever before. This makes no sense. Someone is profiting far more than reasonable profit…..while the grunts below choke every minute of their free lives away just to be able to keep on choking.
This is not freedom. It is slavery, but worse than slavery, it is presumed 'freedom' and 'equality' only working to perpetuate the cycle of inequality and disenfranchised lives.
We are not children of a dollar or a government. We are children of God (take God to be what you wish, in any sense of the term), qualified and able to be free of our capitalistic burdens.
We are a mighty breed, after all.
And one day, which will certainly be a day far from today, I hope to be able to have the option to help change our current options. To round out the equation, for all the mighty hearts on this earth.
There are so many.
I have not written in what feels like an entire lifetime. I might as well not have existed before now- and it's really been that long in my mind's perspective paranoia and absolutely skewed reality.
We have played our songs. Loud & true. My lover sleeps, exhausted in the bed hardly big enough for the two of us. But we are happy. For the most part, most of the time. We are the dream that they speak of when you are young, the wishful thinking you spend your life thinking of, and the true and absolute hallelujah that resonates past the lines of religion or dispositions.
We got it good, as bad as sometimes it may seem- but only when we let our dire circumstances overshadow our real life, the real love that breathes fully in all of our hard-earned hours. The real love that is the last breath fought for, well-earned, before restless minds fall to slumber.
And at 2:55 in the morning, as the city, and my lover, and my dearest friends all sleep, I can think, so clearly, I can hear the joy & jubilation of this life that I've been missing for what seems so long. I could never even start to tell you how low this old heat can go, apathy takes over like the black disease…..the killer (unassuming) mold from the water receding hurricane, the cancer of the heart of a healthy man. It's a treacherous disease, but those who don't entirely succumb, only learn to be true conquerors. So, I've been fighting my quiet battles and feel quite certain I will come out on top. One of these days, I'll be a rehabilitated soul, one day soon, I feel for sure.
And what is sacred anymore? When myths have been relieved of their smoke & mirrors and you have been left a sober and so-much-older soul. What is sacred when you've found the muse in the machine and you've given it all up for a little piece of your own sanctity? All that you know to be true, as seldom or as often as it may relieve itself to you.
We are fighters. We are a mighty breed. We wake to seek and sleep to dream of how to better fulfill the seeking, in the waking hours, halfway such a dream. We are this twenty first century knights and chivalry, for all the joy, for all the precious, that we so often overlook in our daily marching.
At just twenty-four years of this marching, half spent in the dark, I feel almost past prime- that of some industry standard. A blackhole of time consumed by a serious of almosts and close calls. We are all almost the next big things. Don't trust the mouths of others- or yourself really. All that you can know is that feeling in your gut, when you know that you know. And I'm pretty sure, that's the only time in this futile life that you truly have it made. When you get that giddy little girl in your belly shaking around like an evangelist, and you start to believe in faith and things far beyond your former comprehension.
That is when you got it made.
This world is far, far, far from a just and fair place. I have been reading my history and if anything, all I have learned is that we are, and have always been, killers and thieves. But among the blood, treachery and toil, among the absolute most median of us are true saviors, single hearts bigger than the selfish desires of a nation worth of men, single souls stronger than the tide that moves this endless sea. And this is what gives me hope in what otherwise, can sometimes seem appear to be an insurmountable army of precedents and established protocols, for what we are called of, as machines against our far more human lives.
Slavery, in the history book sense, was abolished (technically, though, as we all know, not really at all) in eighteen sixty-five, involuntary servitude. But the rich, still, received the fat end of that jagged stick. For then on they were not only entitled to the poor black population, but the poor, the working class, at large- white, brown, black, red or fucking polka-dotted.
The bread and butter of this country, those who wash the sheets and type the petitions, grow the greens and heard the sheep- left to bare-minimum living from here until the end. Waking before the sun to work, for what? Not a ginourmous flat screen tv or vacation to Bali, but to work from dawn til dusk for the simple right to exist. To eat, find sustenance and keep a roof over their head. To just get by, and barely do that. Without the prospect of an early retirement or a life that they, themselves are entitled to. There are taxes to pay and landlords that are owed. Our modern day slave holding corporations, the bourgeois, the have and have nots, just divided by more 'equal' more 'democratic' terms. We can pretend the fight is fair. But it has never been so. We might as well be shackled in cotton fields. It's no matter of skin; it's economic class in our modern day. And the fight spans far greater than any color scheme.
Remember, those grandiose mansions are all built upon the backs of those who work because they have no other options. Who, for the majority, are not welcome to health care when they fall sick, who, for the majority, cannot afford to be sick, for necessity of a paycheck.
Wealth in modern day American equals importance, equality, reasonable treatment, and reasonable options. And I think the greatest charm of that wealth to me, is the option to change the options for the rest. We are not ALL meant to be millionaires, it's impossible. But we should ALL be able to live and love, to enjoy our lives, freely without being a slave to its modern implications. We are far more technologically advanced than we were 50 years ago, yet our work hours are much longer, and our vacation time far more conservative than ever before. This makes no sense. Someone is profiting far more than reasonable profit…..while the grunts below choke every minute of their free lives away just to be able to keep on choking.
This is not freedom. It is slavery, but worse than slavery, it is presumed 'freedom' and 'equality' only working to perpetuate the cycle of inequality and disenfranchised lives.
We are not children of a dollar or a government. We are children of God (take God to be what you wish, in any sense of the term), qualified and able to be free of our capitalistic burdens.
We are a mighty breed, after all.
And one day, which will certainly be a day far from today, I hope to be able to have the option to help change our current options. To round out the equation, for all the mighty hearts on this earth.
There are so many.
posted by kristin diable | 1:03 AM
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