woke up at 4am, already running late, for who knows what, angst already whispering in my ear, tightening its grip around my chest. Words, words, a story wanting to be told, stuck somewhere between the mind and the hand, messages pressing forward, pushing their way out, bulldozing through everything that resembles an obstacle, yet the resistance is strong, and so, I remain a battered battlefield.
Not that I'm complaining, and what should I complain about, a pleasantly safe life, a lack of desperate fools blowing themselves and whoever happens to be close enough to share the messy ride to Eternity, the missing sound of heavy artillery pounding the landscape into a potholed field of desolation, not being an item sold in that horrifyingly lucrative slave trade, not being a drug addict in a country that doesn't know what to do with drug addicts, except turn them to hardened criminals...?
I guess, I don't have much to complain about, unless I try real hard, show dedication to the cause. But honestly, what could I possibly complain about, or for, on my side of the world, this safe haven of mine, where I shall pretend with others that all is well in this temporarily isolated world of ours, I'll say that all is well? Yes, there is a huge mess all around us, but as long as my doorstep is clean, who cares about the rest, right?
But then again, and like the mad-medicine man said, between two puffs of whatever he was smoking, "It is all a play of shadows and light. You can choose to focus on the light, or you can choose to linger on the shadows. No matter what you choose, we're all part of the big picture. So let's try to make it pretty while we're at it, don't you think?"
Otherwise, I wish you a feast of gratitude and turkey -if turkey applies.
Be well.
Sarcastically writing in pre-dawn's darkness
No comments:
Post a Comment