Selfishly I take responsibility for things beyond my control. Beyond my understanding.
My selfish desire to survive returns to curse my survival, damn my failure to prevent the unpreventable. Actual people, not images on film or video, bags of meat, blood, and bone bursting, raining their parts in a squall of death.
I felt it looming, felt it's presence, uttering only, "Fuck", as I threw myself to the ground as it let loose. Fire and steel everywhere, thumping against everything as I pressed myself onto the rich soil, trying to disappear into the earth and safety. Safety was nowhere.
Many people never got older. Some have never left me, appearing out of this cloud asking, "Why?"
Guilt, regret, build upon frustration in the darkness for the many left behind to suffer their fates for being our friends, working for us, helping us. All come from the darkness with ageless faces asking, "Why?"
Beyond ideological arguments lie the torn bodies and empty eyes of wrong thinking bastards who made ultimately the wrong choice. They trusted us as if we were the correct choice and we abandoned them.
What do they want to hear to leave me alone, if not in peace, at least alone. How do I answer, "Why?"
The righteous know best. God talks to them and tells them the wrong thinkers, the damned, must suffer, must pay with their lives. It's easy when you're right.
Re-education with the bullet and the club. Pain convinces, pain forces acquiescence to a new order as long as the pain stops and I survive to see another sunrise.
Let the sunrise and dispel the dark cloud. Bring the sun with the light of awareness to see the beauty of life away from the darkness of brooding cruelty and death.
Let it ache.
It is the humanity within that hurts so much. It will subside, it will pass, it will come again. Perhaps not so severe. Perhaps not for a long time. Perhaps not.
The cloud has dispersed in time for the sunset to make the bark of the trees glow a golden brown briefly as the sun continues it's way westward.
I shall follow.
I shall follow soon, leaving people I love behind. I shall be carrying my own baggage.
Pretentious and self-indulgent. Like Rock and Roll. Pretentious in the assumption that someone will give a grand who-ha about what I think. Self-indulgent in the relief expressing it brings.
It's only Rock and Roll, but I like it.
Sometimes the only thing that makes sense is an extended Hendrix solo or Clapton at the crossroad. The screaming dissonance describes the emotional turmoil and helps bring resolution and calm.
Rock and Roll.
Pretentious.
Self-indulgent.
No comments:
Post a Comment