There were or are times that it just keeps knocking at the door, wide open or not, and even if you don't imagine yourself answering the call, yet you have that naked and haunting feeling you are still hungry to write some passionate words to dispel the rumor or relieve the hunger. While gathering the bounty to store the provocations for a later work, you bite either your tongue for enunciation, or your lips to mock the attempts of speaking out in favor or assistance of some profound logistical solutions to whatever malady you find yourself stumped and having writer's block or misgivings about, whether or not, you suppose, anyone cares about listening to or reading, posthumously.
Let my people go, onward Christian Soldiers, marching we hope just, as to the idea going off to War. No, simply put, put down the Ho-Ho's, step away from the altar or counter of Free Enterprise, and realize the energy you waste on caustic rhetoric, or finding ways to encourage your own collection of belongings. Is there that proverbial line in the sand that makes you quiver and have that possessive feeling, it's mine and you can't have it, or no I can't find the "way" or means to share it with you.
It wasn't yours to begin with. Yeah, you chose it, either to have or to hold, but it wasn't yours for an eternity. You may find yourself stuck in time, or even in space, but in no way were you meant to linger. Though there is no penalty or consequence to pay, or to set you back fifteen yards or so, but it does slow down your originally laid plans of mice and men, when you do take, and I mean take, and not give, the time to decipher the code.
My list is endless but somewhere along the line if the concept of democracy involves voting rights, then purging the right to vote is not a customary right of passage to democratic points of view, or the thousand points of light of democracy itself.
For capitalism to continue it's evolutionary principles then not keeping a status qua of jobs available to the middle class or the general public, defeats the purpose intended in supply and demand when you have no one to purchase your product on the open market. When you have a government who is in essence a regulatory body, and you ferment ideas of deregulation, then there is no purpose for that government to exist. Government is also meant in theory to evolve, based on present day circumstances and the political environment being played out in the media, so when it is brought to a standstill by either money, misinformation or the participants that were elected into office, not appointed, sits on their hands, are in the process of rowing down shit creek with no paddles then, for "God" sakes come to the narrow conclusion that it is no longer serving it's purpose, and needs to be deconstructed, rebuilt on differing foundational illusions or just simply put to death by lethal injection, public flagellation or if you would prefer, burning at the stake.
Are we really in the wholesale market of neglect as we begin to disfavor women for you already are aware of why, poor, minorities, the aged and in some cases any body or group of people who seem destined to vote for the Democratic Party. I used to believe no, but I have become increasingly aware that between the far right Republicans and Tea Baggers, that there is a distinct possibility that those characteristics are becoming alarmingly present day mantras. Though as a recorder, I am still dumbfounded to the creature comforts of why this is all occurring but I am prudently writing this stuff down now, just to, at a later date, if this malady persists, I can say "I told you so....." Though I could come to the surface and take in more oxygen, I think taking a hibernating dive to the depths is a much more appealing choice at this particular point in history. I bid you life, liberty, an ability to laugh at yourself, and the willingness to keep getting up in the morning because you want to, rather than the usual have to, live long and prosper, just like my Dad, who just made it to 90 and for Gladys, who is turning 100, in December.
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