A friends hand
-We were at that later stage of the hypnotists act, wherein with a word or gesture he could make seemingly coherent members of the audience stand and bark like a dog, or crow like a rooster.
When I give my dog his de-worming pill I have to wrap it in a peice of lunch meat or he spits it out. It's not very clever, but it works for communicating some truth to people as well, it can't just taste like the whole truth, no way, gotta have some bologna.
A stance must be taken, a position regarding something of importance, a somewhat reclined seating to watch this sunrise. It happens all by itself, and no effort on your or my part can quicken it. There must be a great slowing down to notice the swelling colors, the intensifying glow.
Throughout aeons of time, in mankind's most tragic and most extatic day this peeking ray has peirced the shadowed world unstoppable.
Is there some rest other than sleep? Some nourishment other than food?
Perhaps if you had a cave, warm and open, the shape of your skull, with deeper caverns much like your ribs, where echoes the slow drumming of all our grandfathers and grandmothers in harmony, soft and constant; Perhaps it would be easier to await the full clarity of day, and neither make plans or stumble forth in the dark.
We all have to go somewhere today, duty calls like a telemarketer, has your number on speed-dial. We can't change that, but we can get going a little slower, not marching like a soldier towards age and death, but walking, holding one's body like a friends hand. Eventually you and that friend will part, and you will play the drum inside the depths of grandchildren or warmly gaze at them from a home on the sun.
There is no shortage of tragedy or confusion here, cars crowd and rush down the freeway like kids headed for the cafeteria. Every color of hunger muralizes our hollowed excess. There is simply way too much and practically nothing at the same time, as though a thoroughly exhausted and habitually running, vacuous boredom rules us. Our mascot, a fat skeleton is scrolling ninety miles an hour past culdesacs of other people's nostalgia, glamor, art and flowers that it can never smell.
How anyone thinks it's a good idea to hand the double edged sword, the weaponized smart phone to a child is beyond what I can say.
"Only a third of the ship has sunk!" They defiantly tell me, after quickly Google fact checking my outrageous claim.
This is how it sounds to me as the gutted, robbed and explosive laden structures of society crumble around us, to be instantly and in strange chorus blamed entirely on climate change; And all the freshly burnt ground becomes a field where some manipulative hand plants the many seeds of the arguments we will have amongst each other in tomorrow-land.
A strange man, a god of the twisted salesmen and starry eyed consumer claims we will expand, absorbing the countries which border US, echoing or re-varnishing the whistle-blowers of thirty years past predictions, as though new-ness is but a cryptic script having its way throughout the decades.
Every year I watch the streets become gayer and more violent, flailing polarities competing for the same token of marginalized victimhood, both in an ever- increasing arc, paralleled only by autism and cancer. Where will this rise, this lauch land them all? I as so many I am sure, quietly consider the world my children will, when grown, inhabit.
I watch the fanfare for battery powered automatons, while things as basic as water in fire hydrants become a relic of some saner past. New culture, like a self made orphan, with no skills or desire to learn them leaps towards the phantom arms of a technicolor goblin parent corp-state, nursing monster-energy, and claiming nature itself is also a simulation.
Sad and absurd as these things are I have set anchor in a vast and beautiful part of the world, I got myself here by picking one thing I wanted to change and making that my God, every single day for 3 years. Now, having completed the task I have chosen another, single goal, and calmly one step, one action, one day at a time, with total confidence in accomplishing it am on my way there. That's all it takes, to first unplug from the psycho-drama of media mainstream or social, then unscattered, having observed the sunrise, deep in the quiet cave of yourself, finally decide... what do you want?