Dismal Left Living
We are all going to die.
What a horrible thought. One in which I have never indulged in for lack of fear or anxiety. "We are all going to die." I fumble the words in my head like a set of loose marbles, rolling around in the cavernous, dank place of my thoughts reserved for panic and self-destruction. "We are. All. Going to. Die." Not by our own means, but by the means and decisions of others. That is the worst part of it all. The idea of dying and death is inevitable, but what is misunderstood easily by this phrase is that there is an inconsistant reality wallowing underneath the pattern of simple syllables. We are all going to die - because of the choices others make. The more powerful politicians and businessmen and women will decide our fate. You - to Iraq. You - to Afghanistan. You - kill your wife to show your dedication to my cause. You - leave your family. You - suck his cock. You, You, You - strap a bomb to your body. You - are my slave. I will do as I wish, kill as I wish, destroy as I wish, and you, yes you, have no choice but to squirm in angst as my ship sails into the wind.
We are all going to die.
Extinction. We will one day become extinct, wiped out, completely eliminated. It is only a matter of time. If it isn't nuclear warfare or a plague that will wipe us all out, it will be global warming. We have the nuclear power to wipe out 8 billion people. There are only 6 billion people on this planet. Think about that. One goes off 'accidentally' and life has passed us by. Our lives are no longer ours to live in this sea of capitalistic ships. Every minute another sets sails, and we no longer bow down to an everlasting spirit, we bow down to a dollar sign that leaves our bodies cold and heartless. Dog-eat-dog. An eye-for-an-eye, a tooth for a tooth. A single life of one in Africa is less than a single life in America, or Europe, or . . . or . . .
Life is no longer ours. We are all going to die.
We can only hope it is quick and painless. Honor is no longer achievable.