If dreams are indeed an extension to senses and a visual spokesman for the subconscious then what should I make of the dream I had this morning? A gathering of women, only women, young, covered from tip to toe except their faces. And those faces were angry. In small groups they were fussing around single girls not more than twenty years old who were completely naked and put to lie on the ground that looked like wet sand as if they were at a beach. The bodies of the naked girls were positioned - hours later I still can't chase the vivid image of three bodies arranged on the sand with arms stretched out forming triangles. The clothed women were stabbing the naked bodies and were covering them with sand and mud. The naked girls didn't seem to be dead but they didn't seem to be much alive either. That wasn't a burial; it looked like some ritual or punishment because the scene didn't carry the air of sorrow but that of fury and anger. Maybe I should cut down on news. Violence is toxic and we're all inadvertent subjects to it.
No conviction, no ideology, no religion is above the basic right of a human being to live by his/her choice. What's there to understand? Humanity had it coming after centuries and centuries of devotedly embracing the Dark Side. But I never thought that my generation would be in the welcoming committee. And once hell breaks loose it will be useless to point the finger and say "I told you so." There's no one to listen now, there will be no one to listen then. In my mind war is something obsolete, something that once was but could never be again, like slavery, silent films or Zeppelins. "So naive, I keep holding on to what I want to believe." Two things are certain - death and that people will never get tired of making the same mistakes over and over again. I have never felt so disconnected.
I see a lot of homeless people in the recent years. With each year there seems to be more and more of them (it's either that or my uncanny"talent" to be at the wrong place at the wrong moment but just in time to see something I wish I hadn't). It's easy to tell a homeless person from a career beggar - no one else carries all their possessions in numerous plastic bags and wears scruffy winter coat even on a 35°C day. But what really makes my heart bleed is that they are always alone - never in pairs, always alone, all the time. No one to talk to, no one that cares about you; as if they are invisible, as if they are ghosts walking among the living. Can you even begin to imagine how that must feel like? Worse than that would be to be buried alive - and that would be just slightly worse. "Choose life"? Fuck that. Why would these people choose life when life has already given up on them and has kicked them out? "Life never gives you more than you can handle." Bullshit. There isn't a nonsense people wouldn't fall for... provided they have a home to return to. Why should life be so unbearably sad?
"Words are useless, especially sentences." I've said everything that could've been said and to what result? Talking makes no difference so why do it? People are never drawn to the idea of the greater good, only to the idea of their own good. You see, greater good implies sacrifices. For example: to make Earth cleaner and healthier there should be electricity shortages, bigger garbage taxes, total ban on plastic wrappings and, let's say, mandatory social work in city parks or something like that. Would you agree to that? I would. I wouldn't be thrilled about it but it would be for the greater good so I would agree. However, the majority of people wouldn't. Let me say that another way. I, who doesn't and will never have children, am 100 % willing to give up some of the comfort I'm used to if it is to benefit future generations; and the people who actually have children and grow in their homes the future generations in question wouldn't give up anything. Absurd, isn't it? But what do I know? These are just words, they make no difference.
