a particular anarchist's breakdown and explanation of theory and thought.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Mortality

"The way is broken, and the ropes are gone."
The old man sat done by the muddied dusty window of the decaying building the desperate would search for in hopes of relief or shelter. He sat as he had not sat in a longtime. As a boy, he hugged his knees and cried, gazing.
A child in rags entered the building and went up to find the attic, and in the attic he saw the old man with his rough long gray beard, dirty face, and weary eyes.

"The way is broken, and the ropes are gone." spoke the child. And the old man bowed his head in the relief and sorrows of his reluctant submission.
"The way is broken, and the ropes are gone." repeated the child.
Fractured, salvation shall not come to them.











The unreasonable reluctance to die.



WARNING:THIS MAY RUIN THE STORY
DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOU ALREADY UNDERSTAND!
Afterword: I wrote this today in trips. It's a metaphor representing obviously mortality. I chose the scene of a dystopian perhaps battlefield or crashing depression cuz I am just like that. The child and elder represent the stages of our futures and pasts. the attic represents the sentiment involved with death and memory. This is supposed to symbolize the inevitable and our struggle and our please to be free of it... I of course left out our acceptance, because 1) it'd ruin the scheme, 2) acceptance of mortality is too human to be written, and too beautiful to be characterized in something such as this, and perhaps 3) is to remain with the soul in the real world... some things I guess aren't to be expressed through art...
special thanks to Kansas and their dust in the wind.
wooh?

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