Note: So, this is the beginning of a mess of scribblings and thoughts during this country boy's first visit to big ole New York City. Oh me...where to begin...I suppose here, but I promise things will get better, and far less screechy preachy...thank you for your patience, sit back, and enjoy the ride. thank you for flying fathom usa.
Great buildings reach to heaven
but few use the staircases anymore
sprawling out and up progress shows itself proudly
these gravestones of forgotten days
the epitaths to the wild
the constant is change
mechanical wolves and misconstrued reality now hunt
in the shadows of daylight
canopy of concrete
great trees of metal and we are the fauna
crawling inside
what and who does that make the hungry woodpecker?
The Woodpecker must be capitalism then, picking off the unfortunate victims of the system like squirmy grubs, stabbed by the jackhammer beak, swallowed by the immensity of learning yo place in the new hierarchy of balance sheets and man. How does it feel to live in the age of unreason? To have no control. Forced into a system you may not agree with, one you will be chastised for even insinuating it has flaws, for after all, that is not very patriotic and one quickly starts sounding like a communist pig instead of a capitalist one.
My worries are only worries, inherent problems I see, but who am I but a simple country boy, what do I know of existence on that scale of things? What does Liberty even mean anymore? We are free, but are we really free? I feel rather confined, blocked in, suffocated, as if very narrow paths were my only option and I'm unsure if I am even content with those. How do we break free, make a new level playing field, and even out this eschewed distribution of choices and options.
Have we already gone too far? It is difficult to say what history will say about this age, and perhaps it and we still teeter on the tipping point, the future still undecided but there is an air that a choice will be made in the near future, one with massive ripples unlike anything witnessed in quite some time, perhaps occurring within 4 years or less, and the gears are a mess, so let us pray our hearts are pure and we remind ourselves of the power of ingenuity and chance in the infinite canvas that is we powerful people on this fragile living spacecraft.
The night is long
but our dream is longer
~Haitian proverb
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