Prowess

The need for power encompasses all
unrelenting in its fervor
the search will never end
the seekers are termites in a tree
digging towards the heart of the wood
the interior is eaten away
while the exterior stands alone

I have witnessed the might of these parasites
there are those who are workers
tied to the community by bonds of labor
while others lead, and some strive for stature
high above their naturally appointed rank

What are these but men
men that evolved other thousands of generations
yet still resort back to the barbaric tactics of stone age nomads
only through modern mediums

This need is not implanted at birth
but is chosen through the ego of man
rooted in the spite for others
in the desire for control of the uncontrollable

Why must such feelings exist?
Is it not good enough to be content with ones surroundings?
Never.

The Bourgeois Hypocrisy

Reading "God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater," only five pages in I find that Mr. Vonnegut has not only hit the nail straight on the head, but he's driven that bitch all the way through the board. And I quote, "E pluribus unum is surely an ironic motto to inscribe on the currency of this Utopia gone bust, for every grotesquely rich American represents property, privileges, and pleasures that have been denied the many." This book was written in 1965 and this tiny piece of a much larger work seems to echo indefinitely through the sunken valleys of current times. This denial is no accident. It is the work of the powerful upon the powerless. It is for the purpose of having control over the horde of voting barbarians.

When will we choose to discontinue this cycle of terrorism.

When will we stand up and take action against the depression, oppression, and suppression inflicted upon other people.

When will we take action to stop the suffering of humanity, to stop the muffling of the voices of the world's citizens, to stop the buffering of military prominence that is only used to gain standing among all of these modern mongol nations.

But who am I, a middle class white American, to speak of the suffering of people? I am a person who knows nothing of the suffering of people, one who has and probably will never experience true strife.

But I am a true observer.
I am a radical.
I am a realist.
I am a revolutionary.

I am everything, I am the future.
Hopefully.....

The purpose of these silly things

As I look through all these blogs and read the pages and pages of posts that pop up on my screen, I realize something. We are one depressed bunch of people. Look at us. Because of the incommunication between people in our life time, we have been driven beneath ground. More importantly, our feelings have been driven beneath ground. while delving deep into the souls of the organisms around us, analyzing their habits, uncovering their weaknesses, we've become ignorant. Ignorant to ourselves. We work so hard to protect ourselves from the judgments of others that we can't relinquish anything that would be beneficial to our own emotions.
Ironically the song "Eleanor Rigby" decided to play on my itunes. A dark but keen observation is made by these strapping young lads from Liverpool. Where do all these lonely people come from and where do they all belong?
They all come from this place. This virtual haven where people ultimately discuss their deepest feelings, but because of that, it is hardly just a web page for most.
Here's my suggestion: Everyone, go out and find a friend to talk to, and if you can't find a human friend, talk to a tree or domesticated animal, anything that will listen unconditionally. Because that's where we all truly belong, among friends.

Lameness...

So because I have no photo expertise like Marshall, and really just have no other interesting skills to show to the world, I choose to talk about my one and only love: Vampire Weekend!
With their reggaeton beats, ska grooves, and lyrics painting a picture of high society Massachusetts, nothing has made me happier in so long.

this is short, but oh so sweet