Almost everything that has happened over this last year has been horrible.
No matter where you stand on any issue. The lock-downs, masking and social-distancing. It’s all really, really bad and by no stretch of the imagination normal.
Also, it’s crazy to think that it’s already been over a year since this madness began. The last time I sat in a restaurant, unmasked, was a year ago. That’s insane.
I’m old enough to remember that far back; I remember the media, the morons, chanting something. What was it exactly? Oh yes, I think I’ve got it now.
“Just two weeks to slow the spread.”
Well, that certainly didn’t age very well, did it? Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess. Eventually, it all swirls down the same drain.
Lucy and the football? Dancing goalposts? Yes sir. The game was always to lure us in, get us to agree to the new terms, then kick things down the field a bit more.
Simply the first of so many lies to follow.
There really is nothing more anyone can ever do or say, now, that will make any difference in what happened. The past is the past. It’s now nothing short of a foggy mess, and yet, it still continues to sweep its way across the land like some damned, runaway train.
I believe the damage that was done was far wider in scope than most will ever truly suspect. The wounds of those who somehow manage to survive this travesty, this harvesting, will have deep impressions carved on them.
While idiotic masses, brains fully washed and hung out to dry at this point, will undoubtedly never know anything about what I’m trying to say, they will remain fully culpable.
Nothing can ever change that now.
We locked ourselves down. It was our own choice to follow the slave masters advice. I thought the politicians worked for us.
Guess I was wrong.
We can be scared all we want.
We can hide in fear and lock ourselves away from the world for as long as we’d like, but in the end, death will find us and it probably won’t be forgiving.
It won’t take back all the damages we’ve done, all the lives that are now lost, lives completely ruined. No amount of sadness, apologies or shame will ever make this land whole again.
We’ve ruined it for all of us, as well as for any future generations. Those with eyes that can still see, minds that can still think, will hate what’s been done forever.
There ain’t no getting off this ride, Hoss.
I fight monsters.
This war began centuries ago and continues to rage, but it is nearing an end. While the sleeping masses fall all over themselves, running circles in fear, the time to act grows shorter, and shorter indeed.
The monsters have created a fantasy land for us; a digital world where we’ll be tracked and sorted. It’s like branding your cattle. Placing tags on your ears.
It’s harvest time, Sammy, here at the people farm. You’re not much more than a free range human on a human farm. But fear not, lad.
All is not lost yet.
We can still regain our freedom and refuse the branding. We have to recognize that not only is none of this real, but things could be a hundred times better tomorrow if only enough people would wake up and cast off their shackles.
Just cast off your shackles.
I fight monsters, which is fortunate since we seem to be surrounded by them.
-I am Crandew