| Castles The evidence is clear. On the concrete pavement the earthworms die. Conclusion is clear. Concrete is death earth is life. We make veins of death all over the mother, so our shoes won't get dirty, so we can move faster, towards the illusion that we can actually save time. As I walk the concrete path in the footsteps of the workers white, blue, professional collar I see concrete castles towering all around me. I live in one with 100s of others. I have looked for signs of happiness. What is the meaning of all these people to follow a time plan that doesn't fit anyone? It's just convenient for the machine that makes the castles and so called stability. What stability? So why do they do it? Why do they work like slaves for yet another payment plan? Oh I have tried to break from this routine but surviving is not the same today as it used to be. The machine is sneaky, it feeds our children with propaganda fed by the institutes we put them in, the day they are born. It is back to the basics of shelter, food and cloths. It is rare that children find role models in their parents. It is the stars from the hills of Hollywood. Brand shoes and a room filled with toys. But no share of the time their parents strive so hard to save. And time slips, slips, between fingers like grains of sand. And still they work so hard to save time. To save, save... ...but they only lose, lose the cord, to themselves, to earth, to the children of earth. And I can't find happiness within the concrete castles. So I throw away all my possessions. Burn them in a ritual of cleansing. And I run so much lighter, into a time where I never need to save, because time flows with my own inner clock. Not the one that tick tocks inside Big Ben. Mine doesn't even have tick tock. |
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the Book -Wake UpThe Artwork -Gaia |
