As one of the last unknown survivors of the great war, I need to pen this now before it too slips headlong into the crack.
If we must fall, let it be forward.
An inch is much further than a mile (at times) and none of this was ever for ourselves. It was always for those we forcibly left behind, timidly left waving on the distant shores with tears welled up in their eyes, as the tide continuously rolled in.
Silence can be so deafening to the ears (at times).
Such a bitter, awful way to be.
Rifling through life, and as the days tear themselves apart, I find more and more traces of absolute self absorption; it’s everywhere. No matter the chatter, never mind anything outside your own bubble, the discourse remains a consistent background hum.. and it’s always the same dreary tone.
It’s everywhere I tell ya.
Yesterday opened my eyes, may they never be the same again.
Subtle is now the way in which we are being forced to live.
Covered in the dust of a laundry list of really bad ideas… are the quaint notions of liberty, and justice. A lost child that can only weep for a future he’ll never know.
Our laws are gone. Our grasp on even our own reality has been eroded en masse by the dilution of words and the mangled interpretations of history.
As I take a final walk out into the world, I can’t help but feel somewhat sad. Therein is the loss that can not be fully understood until it’s become too late, and by then you see.. it’s too late.