by LJ Frank
A virus offers a vision and that is – the world is borderless. We are all together holding on to a fragile rock that circles a star. The pain and joy of our brief existence offers insight into the intimate process of learning, acceptance and the want of the humane. For humility is the ultimate courageous act. To exist is chance. And to die is the result of the forecasted cellular life the body knows from birth. How shall we die is set by the natural textures and gaps in our body, mind and circumstance;
Can a person commit a felony upon the self, or in the name of a cause other than one’s own? Who makes the rules, rituals and determines the why? What agony of the soul is found in cultures past where the person who died from their own hand and whose buried body is dug up from the grave in a post-mortem sacrifice to the powers on a throne, such are the creations of patriarchal nonsense, but exactly how far have we come in acknowledging our conceit and greed;
Much is written by those whose ego is unable to comprehend the overwhelming nature of depression and suppression, they judge from afar with little understanding, for some suffering there is no relief when the body and mind are trapped and disabled, for who comes forward to admonish the unnecessary bleeding from the lashes and the open wounds on the back and the fissures in the mind;
Should a man or woman stay at the table of life, when unable to forage for adequate nourishment, for who makes these decisions about the etiquette of living, while altering the facts affecting the future and revising the past to accommodate those altered facts, for is it cowardice to die under one’s own’s hand – who makes such laws as if they were a god over others, as a person’s demise may not be a remedy but since when is life a solution, isn’t all life merely chance;
If life is a temporary gift for some but certainly not all, was I nothing before birth and will be so after death regardless of the religious and spiritual venue… and when the physical pain exceeds the money in my wallet or purse what options present themselves except the debtor’s prisons by the wickedness of Man;
Why should I carry on the work for the captains of industry, the wealthy and special interests, is it not all futility save a smile and laugh and a moment of joy, perhaps that’s all that heaven or nirvana really is…as it’s spread out before us and all we have to do is see;
Though existence is temporary, its meaning is that which we bestow upon it, for in the end the Earth will either be swallowed by the Sun or a black hole or death by human hands and the only question will be…will any information about Earth and its inhabitants somehow survive in its voyage of energy through infinite space? Is not the meaning of existence a matter of human vanity;
All I really have is this moment of knowing who and what I am and somehow find the pleasure in that self-honesty, for my mind inevitably seeks the struggle and the ambiguity of revealing its borderless nature.