Losing My Way

No one cares, but why would they? With so many going down, what's one more song unsung? The people will never know what they're missing.

Miranda was in her cabin reading when there was a knock on her door. "Enter" and some of her fellow passengers on their ship came in. She didn't know them well, but she would try to be pleasant, since the situation they were in was bad enough without her being rude as well. She kept reading as they looked at each other, which forced her to suppress a chuckle. Finally, a young woman stepped forward. "We were wondering if you knew how much longer we would be here?" the young woman wanted to know. Miranda closed her book and sat up. "I really have no idea," she answered. "My grasp of interplanetary spacecraft is somewhat limited. Is someone in a hurry?" An older man, nearly her age, spoke next, making no effort to be pleasant. "I'm in no real hurry, but I'd like to get going. You talk to that thing that runs this place. How can you have no idea?" "Thing? What thing?" So much for being pleasant.

I would tell the truth but you would cry/ & that would make me sad which I don't want to be/ so I'll tell you what you want to hear/ because a man should know how to please a crowd.// So there will no talk of doom/ only sweet words of love/ to hide all the hate in my heart/ & make you wish for another day.// I always expect the worst/ but I say the best is yet to be/ just hang on tight until then/ & dazzle me with your smile.//

Screaming in the wilderness, the echo is drowned out by the steady drone of traffic and is unheard, but somehow it is felt. Mr. & Mrs. Plastique shudder for a second, but they exchange no words about the sensation; they walk on, put the uneasy feeling down to the breakfast they had just consumed. Questions they don't want to ask pop into their minds, and they try to dispel them with their trivial concerns, but the exploits of the local football team and the latest fashions fail to dislodge their sudden input of thought. "For some reason, I want to see Reverend Dim," Mrs. Plastique says, and the hubby tells her that would be a fine idea. He plans on getting very drunk.

Time roars ahead, taking all along for the ride. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Even the rocks and the waters, dimly aware of its passage, come along too, certain to always have a place in the march of eternity. The waters might one day be doomed, for it is certain that the sun one day become a red giant, vaporizing everything from Mercury to Mars, but then new worlds will come to life as ice giants thaw out, and new wonders come to pass. Very nice, isn't it? Thinking that way makes me feel impervious to time's merciless grip upon our lives, though deep within, a scientist prophesies doom for the universe that is me. How very sad...nothing to be done but put a party hat on the scientist and keep celebrating each breath, keep dancing to each beat of my fragile heart. I know, we'll make the scientist put on a pretty pink dress and the appropriate undergarments, and dance with my demon and surrender to his insatiable lust. If only that could be manifested in the phys

Ukraine gave up its nukes back in the '90s because Russia and the USA promised to respect their sovereignty. The fools! Given how Russia had abused them, I am certain they only agreed to surrender their security because they counting on the USA to protect them on that inevitable day when Russia would try to gobble them up again. The USA has broken most of the treaties they ever signed, so why would anyone trust them? When I see Ukraine being demolished, all I can think is they had it coming. Their leadership back then was foolish, because they gave the only guarantee of their freedom that they had, for some empty promises from 2 countries that had no respect for them.

I just finished reading Mason & Dixon by Thomas Pynchon, and I must say it is a fabulous book. His style was to emulate how the language was written in the 18th century, a feat he pulled off with great flair. I especially liked how he put in Ben Franklin and George Washington, and though the last 100 pages were anti-climatic, I found the ending to be very touching.

Putin is a fool, his power coming from the corruption that flows through pipelines. The funny thing about his war with Ukraine is that both are aging societies that have low birth rates, too low to replace those who would normally die, much less replacing those deaths coming from casualties from his special military operation, or whatever euphemism he is using to hoodwink his citizenry.

I have decided to start a mass movement. Its purpose is to force the governments to develop the ideas of Nikola Tesla, which, in their greed and ignorance, they have ignored for over a hundred years, resulting in the degradation of the Human Race and the planet that we live on. NO LONGER! It's time to light a fire under the asses of these pompous dolts, and let them know that we, the people of the Earth, refuse to be slave to their power games any longer. The result of their reliance on hydrocarbons has been the exaltation of powermad fools, such as Putin, and the enrichment of greedy, heartless bastards too numerous to name. It is time to end this farce, once and for all.

Recently, I had a very cynical thought. With Putin's stupid move in Ukraine, suddenly all the once peaceful democratic nations are pledging to spend billions more on weapons: somehow, I think this was all a plan from the banksters to give out more loans, since bloodshed has always been a large part of their income stream. Given how precious life is, how could such a thing be possible? I hate to say it, but given the millions and millions of humans currently populating the Earth, I doubt that the political and financial leaders truly believe our lives are precious. To them, we are dirt to be trod upon, clods to be kicked around. If hundreds of Ukrainians dying and having their cities reduced to rubble gives them billions of dollars, then that's okay with them. After the smoke clears and the bodies are buried, there'll be even more money to be made rebuilding, so they shed their crocodile tears and laugh all the way to the bank. Could such a thing have been arranged beforeh

So many words and more coming every day. Even I add to the onslaught... I don't even know what words mean but I am never wrong. It's a curse to be so blessed. Silence... the mind must be freed to think, to roam where it must so that it may be free to find there are no words to express the truth. What goes unheard moves me. It's a blessing to be so cursed.

What can I say to make you leave your comfort zone to let me in your lovely home to let you know there is no hope? What must I do to become one with you make you believe what lies are true and what hoops you must jump through? Here I am a liar and a fool to speak the truth and make you wise to bring you love and make you hate the madness I despise all this shall be possible once you see through my eyes

Imagine there's no countries...John Lennon once sang that, and I can imagine that. It's the only way to preserve life on Earth, as I see it, but try to convince those who have power to give it up. Each of them, from the humblest mayor to the haughtiest autocrat, gets a big ego boost knowing that people look up to them, and that feeds their little minds. Each of them want to convince us that it's about serving the people, but it seems to me that the people in power make sure they get theirs first, and when things get bad, funny how it's the common people who starve first. If these public servants cared, they wouldn't dress so nice and have big banquets whenever a visiting dignitary showed up. But, surprise, they don't care: it's all about them. In their own way, each of them are as bad as Donald Trump.

I have decided to not engage in any political writing any longer. Politics is bad for the mind and the spirit, and those who profit from it have something wrong with their character that endangers the world we live in. Yet, how can we stop those fools from destroying the goodness that God has given to the world if we refuse to meet them in the political arena? And isn't politics itself an inherent part of human society? The first question I must ponder, for I am sure the answer would be of great importance; as for the second question, I fear the answer is yes. Any social animal has a political structure that must be adhered to, and the more complex the animal, the more complex that structure is. Even anarchy is a form of politics, though the people who deny its ultimate rightness like to equate it with chaos, which it is not.

I am so sick of the State of the Union speech. It is the most worthless waste of time imaginable, and confirms my belief that we must have anarchy throughout the world. Unfortunately, people are too stupid for that, especially those who rise to the top. America had its chance long ago, but lack of imagination has doomed us to our inevitable decline. I know it's all up to me, but I am surrounded by idiots.