As the wurm turns
The newspaper comes each morning, hung on the door in a little paper cloth sack, by an elf before I awaken. So, I read it. It's nice, the reading, but the articles are much the same as elsewhere, full of pain and sadness. As once put so eloquently, "...quiet desparation." And when someone finds out you are quietly desparate, instead of a gentle hand, you get splashed on the evening news, or become the latest electric gossip.
A family jumped from their balcony. A father, mother and the daughter, 19. In the pocket of the man was a note saying they were sick of life. They were shunned by neighbors, and held responsible by the courts, for six years earlier his father and mother had jumped from the same balcony, with a note in the father's pocket that his son and the son's wife, harassed them until they could not stand to live. -----a mystery solved: An uncle was found to be the murderer of his three year old nephew. He "sacrificed" the boy to a goddess he feared. He and others tortured the baby. Such are the stories. Adjacent to beauty contests, sports scores .
I got email from that friend of my sister's. She lives an hour and a half away. She sounds happy in her mail and busy. She speaks of taking Hindi lessons. She's excited about sharing what she has learned and about her work. I can't wait to meet her. It will be a breath of sustaining air. The general talk in this setting is of the past, work, shopping bargains, games and how to survive.
I don't want to survive. I want to live. I want life to count for something. I want a life filled with love. I figure, maybe I can spread some of mine around, if I get involved with the orphans.
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Your tears serve to wash the tarnished treasure clean. It sparkles then. Coldly twinkling like analytical stars, as it consumes your life while you dutifully guard it. Automatons stalk back and forth to the mine, bit by bit adding to the pile. soulless happy androids with endless supplies of the validation drug they need. When it ends, they will flounder in bewildered heaps, and reach out to the long neglected dragon whose heart is now stone.
posted by Force Nyne @ 5:43 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
How thrilled you must be! The news you give about collective suicides are really making my hair stand on end, fully in the XXIst century there's still a place in the world where honour is considered from a different angle.
Best wishes+++
Sorry I forgot to type my name in my previous comment.
Jose+++
It seems to be a place where people have a lot of intuition, male and female. They operate on a heart level, even in being selfish. Emotions are intense, from love, to shame. Auspicious times are important, and yes, honor. They don't (collectively) seem to think that pride is important. It is not mixed in with honor. Which is amazing to me. So many of us have those two enmeshed. Humility manages to come off as something honorable, and not atall humiliating)) These are of course, my own observations. and they are cursory at the moment.
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