What I’ve made and what I’ve created. Is it something that I’m proud of or something I fear? Some build walls, but we built a weapon. We move unseen, unheard, unnoticed we are the lack of concentration and ability to focus. Dangerously living. We speak, we shout, exploit, scream, and conspire. We never listen, we never empathize, understand, or inspire. We’re not moving in a certain direction, everyone has their own path, but we’re all looking to our brothers and sisters to make sure we’re not lost. Expression, freedom, abstract thought. Great things for a society to have but at what cost? We are, all of us, deceived to think that we as individuals are more important than the whole. The plain of existence is the one that we share and yet we never think to hold on together. Freedom is a responsibility not a right. Sure you’re free to do it, but what does it mean to do it? We never think about the repercussions of our actions. Only what makes us happy, but these days nothing makes us happy.
No one actually cares but we all “send our prayers.”
We used to stand for things, willing to die. Willing to be detained. Willing to be lynched. Willing to be tarred and feathered. No one stands anymore. Everyone sits. The only person who’s worth a damn is the doctor who tells you “you’ve got the shits”. What happened to the drive? What happened to the sense of community? What happened to “love thy neighbor”?
Have we forgotten? Have we been absorbed so heavily into the collective that we no longer see ourselves? “Me” no longer means the self, everyone so obsessed with their image to hundreds of strangers and people with fake hearts. How do we fix this? Inside is where we start. Everyone obsessed with themselves, but couldn’t recognize their souls in a mirror. The day we stand up and take account, responsibility, and not hate each other for it. That’s a day. Might not come. Not before the bombs drop. Before the blood is shed. Before we’re chasing the “likes” of the dead. Everyone wants it, the power of influence, the power of persuasion. To lead people to greatness or another price tag?
What we’ve gained through the pain of the soldier’s strain, is not, compared to the cost of the loss of our freedom from ourselves. We are the collection, we are the whole, we are the hive.
But what’s the point in breathing if you’re not actually alive?
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