Just a meditator

The people around me are dying. They can’t handle existence. Where is the way out and how can we complete this? Why do they do this to themselves. It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when we were all you. We could sing and dance and laugh and play and everything was fun. Now I am older and I look down from above. The misery and despair the lingers in the heart of the ones I love. For what is it worth why do we suffer? There must be some good that comes from blood shot eyes undercover. For now I say no and sigh, gently do I weep. Under tear stricken stars I morn for those things that creep. I don’t know the half of it. Maybe I should settle down. Get far away from the madness the blood the guts and the town. Retreat to solitude and make life easy for a day but oh no the work goes on and never again shale we play. There is a new mindset that exists far away from here. Take my hand and come and see the concequice of fear. The place were pain is felt and closely shackled to a will. A will of control and pressure, a lion before a kill. It’s not the pain that stops us, it’s weakness of a different sort. Lack of control and blindness that drives us to our last resort. Sit now and pray. Work for peace of mind. Today is of hardships. Tomorrow is a different time.

Confusion, delusion, illusion.

And then you have that point when someone who has been through hell decides to open up to you and puts everything into perspective.
“Why are they doing this to us?”
I see some of the best people put in the worst of situations. It’s the noble cast of exploitive, domineering, and aggressive strategy that makes it’s way to the top. This is no problem and displays itself in a motivational aspiring style.

What is the problem? Confusion?

I see a new type of leader. I saw one of them yesterday rolling through town with his dreadlocks up in a bun tossing a peace sign to me as he passed. Loss of ego is a side story and life to these people. They are nearest the societal roots of love and like a messenger from the divine bring deliverance to all they touch. To see and be with these people, to seek them out and sling their message into the far reaches of the world. Oh how I long for their gaze and how desperately I will search.

Work is what I do, and work is what I offer. Like a warrior I will find my fight and I will fight for these great commanders.

Class struggle

Walking through the streets of my city I have developed a new habit. I order people as being higher than me, lower than me, or equal. Sure at the existential we are all equal, but there are those that walk this earth that I would like to be closer with, and there are those people for which some distance would not be such a bad thing. These people I would like to be closer with I call higher people.

With this new habit I have found myself in the middle of an age old struggle. A class struggle. As dark as the tunnel gets there are very few of these higher people on the bus or at my job. It’s as if the bus is an asylum we have sorted the sorts of people we want to keep off the roads, far away from the drivers; and my work is simply the job held by someone who has not quite graduated college yet.

Almost never do I take self acceptance to be the answer to my struggle and instead take on the challenge of overcoming and climbing the social ladder. Onwards and upwards, entitlement, confidence, and one new number everyday.

The thing that deserves the most blame for the situation and class that I am currently in; myself. Money, power, self control. It’s a struggle at this point and it’s a vicious fight. I am smart and relatable and starting a business is the path I will choose.

Plus one for the dark side.

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