|To the Living, and To the Dead. submitted 2009.07.29 05:30 AM by Symbolic_ viewed 2102 times|
|(I don't know, I think I have a fever and I was some what delirious when I wrote this, I'm going to take some medicine the fever should be gone when I wake up. My apologies if it's not your cup of tea)|
You're not forgotten, you're just underground. I wish I could articulate to you how good shade from a tree feels. I wish I could let you experience a hot summer day one more time. The heat on your back, the sun surrounding your face, the taste of fresh made lemonade. It is life, and you lived it, but do I wish I could let you have just one more of those moments, just one more of those last kisses, heartfelt goodbyes, the love of a stranger. Meeting somebody randomly, spending your day with them, then never speaking again.
Chance encounters a void I wish to fill, chance mistakes, a void I wish wasn't an option.
I want to sway like a tree in the wind, and in front of the sea. See the sunset over the horizon, and walk a hundred miles through a desert that would kill me.
To the dead I say, I love you dear brother, to the dead I say I embrace you dear sister. To the dead I say, rest knowing you were alive, but mourn the fact that your synapses no longer fire.
Luck would have it you're free of one disease that is terribly human. The one most unavoidable and catastrophic. It kills relentlessly, and grows ever so hungry.
It would be deception, and luck would have it you can't get anything in this world without it's utilization. It is lying, luck would have it the world will worm its way into your brain unless you lie to keep it out. Not all of us want to lie, but some of us need it to survive. Some of us need it because the truth is the ugly guy alone in the woods with absolute contempt for mankind. The truth is a shotgun blast to the teeth, and a kick in the ribs.
To the dead I say one day I will join you. To the dead I say one day we will play a game of cards in whatever medium I join you at .
A series of fruit trees on a deserted island. All as giving as the last, all as sweet and delicious as the first. The diversity and the color all shift restlessly in the wind. The sand the color of fresh winter snow, and neither hindering but dance in the light. A waterfall at the center spewing down from a tall mountain, giving fresh water with fish every color of the rainbow.
"Wake up isn't this your stop?"
"Oh so it is."
"Then get off people want to sit!"
A series of blank stares, and disapproving faces. In his mind a flurry of questions left unanswered swirl into the back of his brain.
They'll say, survival of the fittest, they'll preach. Early bird gets the worm, I hate Mondays, long live the weekend.
LONG LIVE THE WEEKEND!
LONG LIVE THE WEEKEND!
Allotted time in a tiny room, elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder. Egg salad on wheat, a brownie, an apple, a few vending machines, a microwave, and a refrigerator. That asshole that sits across from you. The new girl who gave you a few inviting glances, the guy who speaks with a foreign tongue. The fat christian woman with the cross the size of her fist hanging from her neck. Thirty, sometimes forty five minutes, then bam zoom back to the cages, back to the spaces, back to viewing the same agonizing faces. The whip is gone, the incentive is there, efficient quiet and most of all productive. Otherwise, see those faces and those hands clawing at our doors? They want it, they hunger for it they've eaten ramen for dinner the past several weeks, they took three buses just to get here. They woke up at five a.m. just so they could make it an hour before their interview. We'll trade you for them in an instant, only the walls will speak of your accomplishments. Only the walls will know the truth of how good you were, of how productive and efficient and how you saved the companies ass on more than one occasion. Not only will they save the companies ass, but they promise to make us profit. They promise to work weekends, they promise they have no children work comes first. They promise they have no religion, wait that's a lie, their religion is capitalism and they'll be glad to work at half your pay.
"We're looking for experience"
"We need someone with experience"
"Yeah this looks good but you lack experience"
"Go out and get yourself some college what can I say we need experience"
"Oh so you worked there there and there? Wow this is really impressive, however you lack some of the experience required I'm sorry."
What's in a word. What's in a letter.
"I need a vacation."
"You always say that, but you work like a dog."
"Do I ever, and I haven't seen so much as a dime raise in the past year."
"You should go ask for it, you of all people deserve it."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, if anything you should ask for a promotion, neigh demand it, don't walk out of there until they give you exactly what you ask for. HELL TURN OVER TABLES AND CHAIRS SET A FIRE IN HIS TRASH CAN, STAPLE HIS TIE TO HIS DESK AND WATCH HIM SQUIRM!"
"You're joking right?"
"Of course, but we both know you'd probably get more of a reaction if you did that, than if you went in and asked for a raise. The deserved are over looked by the one with the smoothest mouth. The deserved are over looked by the one where action is always cooking, a deal is always going down, and fun is to be had. Work comes second to pleasure, even if you dedicated your life to this company, chances are you'll only end up with a gold watch. If your sights are at the top, you need to network, connect, get to know those that can hook you up."
"I know what you're saying but I'd rather just stick it out and hope for the best. I mean I need this job primarily to support my wife and kids, I don't have time for any of that other stuff."
"Gotcha, in that case you're fired."
"You can't do that!"
"Oh you're right that'd be illegal, though I am your supervisor now if you didn't know. In that case I'm switching you to part time so you can spend more time with your precious family."
"I see, you are the boss and I will do as you say."
"That's more like it!"
Poverty be thy name, huddled masses warming themselves over a dumpster fire. Burn the trash it's all there is any more. Many out of work, many more to come. Many out on the street, many more to follow suit. Shanty townes on the rise, luxury cars stolen at every turn. A joy ride by a couple of rowdy youths, a liquor store on every corner. Pawn shops with items telling stories of pain and discomfort. Family heirlooms, diamond rings, anniversary gifts from ones no longer with us, and anniversary gifts from ones we wish were strangers. Some wanting a fix, some wanting one more night with food on the table, others paying an electric bill. More borrowed money, more borrowed time.
A man comes up to you, offers you a coke the first one anyone offered you in years. He smiles from ear to ear, and promises you everythings going to be ok. Rohypynol, to the brim. You wake up with a pain on your side, and you see blood coming out from where crude stitches are. You struggle to get up, your back completely to the wall, you want to get up but cant the pain is too much. You pass out for another couple hours. A cop kicks your feet, tells you to move along, you point to your wound the cop just tells you to move along. You struggle and struggle, but can't get to your feet. The cop then pushes you to the ground and cuffs your hands behind your back.
Drops you off at a shelter and doesn't look back, you struggle and burst through the door you drop to the floor pass out. You wake up on a stretcher with an IV in your arm. The doctor says you'll be dead in a week. You lack the funds, the humanity, and the productivity to keep yourself alive. You'll scream to him how you tried, how you never had a chance. Innocent cries, deaf ears. You're allowed to live out the rest of your days he says, free morphine and meals he says, that's all they'll give you but the cure will cost you.
Tired and weary, he asks to skip the wait and to be given whatevers coming to him already.
"Fine, just sign this form and we'll give you what you want."
A house in the burbs, an apple tree in the yard, surround chainlink fence two cars in the drive way, a chicken in the pot, an American flag mounted on the roof. A cupboard that's never even heard the name ramen, a cupboard that only once had tuna but was used for a casserole. A freezer full of snacks and a full gallon of ice cream at all times. Two twelve packs of sodas, nine different kinds of cereal, pretzels, frozen pizzas, chicken, steak, ribs, roast beef. A surplus of food, and this is considered a time they need to go shopping.
To the living I say, we're all dying. It's not something we have to get used to or acknowledge all the time, but it's the inevitability. Some want it faster than others, some have no other choice. Some are bored, some are restless, some want love but can't utilize as well as the others. Some will be lonely the rest of their lives, some will experience it and it will slip from their grasp because of silly youthful mistakes.
To those I've said I love you to, I'll always hope it wasn't in vain.
Thank you for reading.
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