Gems in the Mega Rough – In the land of the blind the one eyed man is lonely.
Losing one considered a brother, was a deep bother…Losing another in callous circumstances…is a wretched burden to bear and try to accept, as all horror of humanity must be accepted, or fought against. In your own way. Yet it is a different matter when you feel like you have always done right by another, assumed bond of love and charity, and then find that bond…so far removed from your assumptions and feelings anchored in soul,..was not as it seemed.
I am a foreigner here. I feel this in my interactions with most. In some I feel a mutual warmth of spirit or heart…yet its barely an echo, of the lupine roar I feel even now from my brothers in the homeland…
Art is life. When edited, re-written, carefully conjured by one without the world around them ,it is NOT art. It is a compromise of Art. SOmething soiled, changed, engineered…something chopped and changed for AN AUDIENCE. Real Writers write for themselves, to share with the world a verbatim rendition of the soul. They are psychopaths by all of society’s measures. They are not swimming in the main stream, more stuck in an endless fight against a waterfall, at the bottom but facing up, not giving in, when all seems lost..they are the fanatics, the broken souls still living to tell their tale.
We let lies rule our lives and loves.
We watch proxy armies we have paid for hunt and bayonet by buggery a former Leader who offered his people free education, free health care, hugely state subsidised first homes, hugely state sponsored petrol, fought for the end of the death penalty, fought for African Rights…
We talk with such hollow passion of My Kitchen Rules or Game of Thrones, as countries are invaded, thousands slaughtered, in our name, through our witting or unwitting complicity…
We learn affectation as the status quo.
We lie to everyone and ourselves.
We are cowards, of ever lessening connection to Nature, and to each other, for when all are the same, nobody is someone.
As comrade Scroobius says…we can get better. The once proud and mighty and found high and low in all realms human spirit has not vanished. It remains with me and you. We are meant to spend our lives with our blessed of senses intoxicated, consumed, sparkling. We are meant to spend our loves seeking intensity. What causes the currents of our hearts and souls to become tsunami.
It is not too late. Close to it. Yet we have a chance to demand and fight for a chance for the little ones and all creatures great and small to find a viable future.
There are some who know that all is not Right. Some of them wish to do something. But what? Attend activist meetings? Engage in community co-operatives? Walk in orderly lines at organised rallies? No. We need mass awareness to seep into the ends and middle of the roots of society, a leader or three to appear…to lead and direct the mass angst into…affirmative action.
I’ll keep seeking nothing less than love and soul and spirit.
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