“It was not, that he thought he was better for the sum of his days, it was that he thought.
So few people did these days.”
I think at last count there were over 7 billion people on the planet, approaching 8 billion.
Though Western powers are doing what they can to curb that number 🙂
Still we are left with the fact of so many of that number, living so badly.
And even those of us, picked by fickle fortune to be born in relative… ease, live lives so sewn to the… mendacity of our times, that by any fair perspective they must seem not lives at all.
But brief bleetings, blips, ghost images, we, automatons, carrying out the faded will of men who lived and died before our grandparents were born.
“I did not want to live what was not life. Living is so dear.”
Thoreau I believe. Or Emerson. I get the teacher confused with the student.
And yet living what is not life is the American way.
We get frenzied over men racing a ball made of the flesh of pigs down a field, but are oblivious or unwilling to be made aware, the two are different things, of the flesh of men, the rights of men, from every corner… being under siege.
Everything I do, and everyone I meet, try as I may, has this odd, waxen sheen…. of mendacity. Of lives too shallowly lived.
I keep seeking connections between people. The points of a star, but every thing around me is so dim.
“It would seem we are to suffer an apocalypse of cockatoos— Morose,barbaric children playing joylessly with their unfathomable toys. Where comes this dullness in your eyes? How has this century numbed you so? Shall man be given marvels only when he is beyond all wonder?”
—FROM HELL by Alan Moore
Though I draw perhaps too dark a scene.
I have seen fleeting moments of… grace.
But perhaps too fleeting, too brief.
Aye… these are our odd sleepwalking days, and I fear the waking up can only be… loud and altogether… unpleasant.