Day #2: 500 word a day challenge
Prompt: A time I was hurt?
I can tell you all the same stories sung before. I can tell you about the beatings, and bruises, and abandonment and all the stories that will make you hurt as much as I did, even if just for a moment You may even give me sympathy, and find insight and relation about something I say. But more than likely you would move along, back into your rhythm and my very personal and revealing story would just become some distant whisper in your ear. I can tell you that story, I can tell you of that pain, and I could explain to you why it hurts so bad, or I can tell you what really hurts, and what really matters.
Ignorance, mis-education, the institutionalization of our lives, the weak and overly physical experience of women in media, the belittlement of children’s dreams, the lack of inspiration and creativity in mass education, the amount of power money gives you, the amount of power your sex gives you, the lack of power your race can provide you, the division in power within borders meant to represent your home, the lack of trust in the government that we put into power.
Every day I wake up, I eat my breakfast, I take a walk and I participate in this world. The one I’ve helped build. The one we’ve all helped to build. And I’m so disgusted by what we have created. I feel so defeated in so much of what we have created, and what we have destroyed. And I look around and in the new world, in the developed world we sit around cafes and work counters, and we sip coffee and eat scones and we complain about politics, and religion as if they are episodes in one of our favorite Netflix series. When the coffee grows cold, we move on. Nothing fucking changes. All this discourse about recourse, and what have we solved? We talk about it for the sake of conversation. Most of our opinions aren’t even ours, most of our statistics are channeled, and our beliefs stem from the environment we grew up in. So I ask myself. Is it so great to have grown up in the developed world? Is this what man hoped to achieve? Did he want mass production, that would eventually kill all individual inspiration? Did he hope that those with the most inspirational influence would use it to get us to consume, produce, and buy buy buy? Did he hope one day for machines to take on human responsibility? Did he hope to turn the world from leaf and dirt, to cement and high rises? Is this beauty? Is this progression? Did he hope to have underpaid strangers teaching his children useless statistics that they would never be inspired by, and even less remember? What was his dream? I wander way back when, if life was simple. If love was just given, and not desired. If people were just human? If people just cared about one another for the sake of unity? If division wasn’t part of vocabulary, because it wasn’t part of life? If money, and ownership were strange concepts unkept?
I wander what it would have been like to walk in a world like that.
I hear people speaking of heaven as if it’s this all inclusive resort that only the best of the best get to visit. They pray and lie to a man, and tell him what he wants to hear….as if he’s listening. They do shocking things to the planet and to one another, and then they spend an hour or so in an eloquently adorned room professing their crimes for the sake of forgiveness. What if they all found out the man wasn’t listening, and that he’d never seen their sins, and that they could still go on vacation because their was no exclusivity to this club of heaven? Do you think they’d feel guilty then? Do you think they’d care, if no one saw their crimes? I do not have time for passionless conversations or irrelevant interactions with people who aren’t using their hearts. This world that we’ve created has become so numb to its own negligence. What else must we destroy before we open our eyes?
I am imperfect, and I am one of each of the people I speak of. My habits at times disgust me. I want to change, I want to see change, I was to enact change. I am not better than the rest. I consume, I lie, I steal, I cheat…..in my own way. But the sad thing is…..I see it, I see the darkness in the decisions we are making in our lives each and every day. And I am scared for a day in the future when we will have to pay the price for what we have done here.