To look upon modern-day things with reflection & aching—to find beauty in the madness of it all.
The importance of slowing down, once in a while.
I am tired—tired of the mediocre, the irreverent, and the bad. The mantle of darkness that envelops the world is thicker than you think. There is too much talk of nothing and most are incapable of withdrawing when now should be the time of reflection.
I am tired of seeing good people diminished, silhouetted by flash, bodies bringing down minds, and voices muffled by the volume and chaos of it all. I am tired of those making a living out of the dying good things. And the more I keep myself distanced from all of it, the more involved I become. Alas, I can no longer keep in the shadows.
I am not some black woman fighting for better wages;
I am not a nine-year-old boy looking to start a fight;
I am not some entitled pedestrian preaching about justice;
I am not some transfigured beau queen all dressed up for Halloween;
I am not a blind man looking to join the army or miss the union forever;
I am not some rainbow parade they wouldn’t let march in the cathedral;
I am not some cross-eyed sexless spectator who cannot keep his things about;
I am not a vomit-king champion glutton denied an extra filling;
I am not a smiley too pleased of selling you things I do not care about;
I am not some 21st century brat shouting at some black woman because I’ve coveted all that I’ve been given.
I am not any of these things, but is it okay that I, too, am tired?
I look around and see so much hate and hollow, so much frenzy and atrophy, and degradation in the things people drown themselves in and force upon others. People cannot stop talking about money and how to make money; or buying things and selling things; and passionately talking about doing things but never actually doing them.
I am so bored of it all.
I am not an activist (anymore), I am no protester, no saint, I am far from the voice of my generation. I could watch it all burn for all I care, and I don’t mind fading away. But when I look around I also see my brothers and sisters, five, six, seven, and all other children, growing up around all of this turmoil and noise pollution, picking up on such—unsavory things. No one’s even teaching them about Dr. Seuss anymore.
And every child should learn about Dr. Seuss…
His books, anyway.
So, maybe I can see some magic yet—there is always magic where no one’s looking. And maybe, just maybe, there is still enough left for everybody else.
This is the deep&; (or Deprivation & Anticipation). This is what I have to say about the world, but mostly it’s about what I can give, should you choose to accept.
I’m just an old-fashioned man who writes too much about long-lost, old-fashioned, far-away things; and maybe I often enthuse about the madness in beauty—of art, culture, & most pretty things, but I’m not that sophisticated. In fact, I’m sweet, simple, kind.
And, I’ve got just something else to say.
In the end, anyway, it will not matter who I am,
for I just want to give you some green eggs and ham.
Have them wherever or don’t have them at all.
But before you throw them away, walk with them in the park.
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