I want to let go, to slip into the river and let the water carry me, guide me, place me where i belong. I dont belong here, there is no home of my making just a series of other peoples homes, people who dont seem to know me. I want to drift on the river, let it wrap me up and nurture me, be a part of it as though my body were made of water.
This planet I am born into is absurd with meaningless lives. Excess, greed, possession - they cultivate starvation, poverty and death. They watch drama on tv but ignore tragedy in life, a planet rife with parasites walking on two legs, walking all over the have nots. Our civilization is barbaric to the core, glinting with a guilt edge shiny sharp and shameless.
I was born into a cyclone, a family of the familiar spinning like headless chickens with their minds grotesquely severed from their hearts. A home spun microcosm of the greater world, a prelude to the horror. Brutality in the home is renamed 'good business' when you walk out the door, it's a seedling of the modern jungle where corporations hold the big stick and the mindless majority dance to the tune. The pied piper jiggles and we the rats run, running until our race is over. We are the final subjects to be consumed by consumerism, devoured by a pestilence of our own making.
Put me in the cool water. Let me float away with all the other rats and dream of a world where the pain has stopped, where gardens are more valued than garbage, where the sky is a home, where people are rare. That's where I belong.