The Metaphor Of World

crux

excruciated and excrucified, we arise towards the limits of being; it is hard to realise that a man is but a cross of gristle and ligament and bone, holding banners of skin and flesh and emotion to the wind. where we stand is but a field of flagstaves, of poppies and deceit, of politicians and their mantras, of prophets and loss, of laws and profits. why do we stand for it at all? the answer is clear, the crux is pointed: we stand for it by default, we leave a rift, a crevasse in the nature of things by the fact that man is nasty and venal at the root - it takes great energy and inspiration and perhaps common sense to rise above all that.

and so, we arise towards the limits of being. this time, let us transgress in the original sense - let us go beyond the chains of nastiness and venality and work towards a better future. and that, only if there is any time left at all.

this was written @ 9:30 PM