FACEBOOK

It was a few years back that I had a facebook account but I still recall this one post in particular. It was a video of a young man -- a child really -- and some kittens. It had gone viral like hypocrisy bathed in   ignorance.

This is the story:

The kittens, 3 or 4 of them, are only weeks old, furred but eyes still shut, and, of course, absolutely adorable. The child picks up each one with such care, softly caresses them, kisses them, and then gently places each in a vacuum bag he has laid out on the bed. They're all in the bag now. He seals it and turns on the machine, sending them all into a sweet slumber. I am not outraged by what I see but I notice, playing lowly in the background, is John Lennon's  "So this is Christmas" or "War is Over" and a profound sadness moves through me.
If anyone else has noticed the soundtrack to this story they make no mention of it. No, rather, they collectively rage against him with words of outright hate and ideas of violent retribution. Now the outrage begins to move through me, for all this is taking place while the reality of "Shock and Awe", the violent vicious attack brought about by misinformation and deliberate deceit, allowed by ignorance and indifference, and carried out with intent and purpose upon the people of Iraq, was still immediate in the very lives of millions.
Indeed, Obama had thanked the perpetrator of the continuing crimes for his service to country and informed us that he, Obama himself, believed that we should look forward as opposed to backwards. And that was that.

So, the beast changed heads while speaking glorious words of hope and change, proclaimed "Yes we can!" from the pulpit, was awarded the Nobel prize for peace and then continued to wage war upon humanity. The people of the beast soared to the heights of that hope then fell back to a deeper, darker distraction. And that was that.

I still wonder, how many children in Iraq (and many countries since), being bathed in the blood of sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers, were put not-so-gently to sleep by the deafening roar of flesh ripping bombs.

BEGIN

I woke from a dream to find that nothing was as it should be.
I stepped through the door and could not find the way.
For a light was cast upon it, hiding the truth in its brightness.

If I told you plain you would say
"show me"
with evidence trashed and scattered all about your feet.
Not unlike so many words void of any meaning.

The truth fits into no one's story so lies come easy.
And who then would purposely seek madness--journey into the dark?
Especially with so much illusion blinding us with its glorious light.

I am a feather in the wind.
Not unlike a drop of rain--the eternal drop of rain.
I am not afraid.

What would you do,
if you woke to find a dark chasm between everything that is and everything that could be?
One that can not be crossed.
Can not be climbed.

Stand up!
Do not let them destroy you.

CATHARSIS

Im writing about this event not because Im proud (though I am neither ashamed) but because of what it meant to my being: A purge, an unspoken realization, the final fuck-you.
I had heard the word catharsis before, even looked it up to get an idea of its meaning. Now I know exactly what it means.

It was two or three months back and a particularly nice spring day when I found myself downtown. Where I was going I do not remember but I had also found myself in a not so particularly good mood. Certainly not one to be in crowds, and definitely not one to be dealing with oppressive ignorance.

I was approaching Pioneer Square at 6th and Morrison when I heard a man on the corner of the square, in a loud and certain voice, informing the air that no one is saved. I sarcastically and light heartedly commented to him as I neared - he being on my left - that I guessed we were all going to hell then. He took advantage of my words to proclaim that, No! those who accept Jesus will be saved...  and at that very moment, a man on the right whom I had not noticed before, began to speak in the same tones. I was taken by surprise. Great! Stupid in stereo!

That's when it happened, sudden and pure. As my feet took me forever forward, my hands went up towards heaven and with the universal symbol displayed in both of them I shouted in my own confident and clear voice  "FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!"

Wow, what had happened? I don't know for sure but by the time I got to the other side of the square and had ascended the steps, a smile so true crossed my face and I began to laugh.
I laughed.

I had not felt that sweet in a very long time.

THERE to HERE

   Missing things in Tucson?
   What was, what could've been?
   Then there was that wall.

   Anyway.

   Within, Without.

   The Indigos are here--always have been.

   But one day, in an ancestral beginning of days, the webs of deceit - an all encompassing lie - were wove into the light of the soul and the truth became as a devil.
   And the light outside the darkness? Who is it that has bound the spirit in chains of gold and glory--a heavy burden of selfishness?

   So much light and still so hard to see.

   A light is hiding in the darkness where dreams speak of truths. Where the webs are only players and must everyone play true. We all go there. It's part of us. But daylight and consciousness break and our journey there becomes like that breeze on that day when the sun shone gentle on your face--but that was a long, long time ago like a tattered black and white photo you found in a dusty book of faded stories, a photo of people you don't know but should. Or like, nothing at all--less than forgotten.

   Anyway.

   We are all mirrors.

   I live in Portland now.