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At Least.


Trivial, it will pass, just a phase, there is nothing you can to do about it, when do we get to see the lines of destruction and obvious corrosion of self and the rest of the designs of enforcement become too much?

But then how much easier it is to just make a restrained whimper, a noise of a leashed mouse that is displeased the cheese has moved but will once again happily devour its dwindling mozzarella crumbs.

At least, I can eat and live that is more than some desperate people who live in a far off land that we can imagine in that part of our brain we try not to use in fear of that stirring inescapable responsibility that is forceful empathy. Is not “at least” the chorus that overruns every bureaucratic, governmental, and even personal failure?

There is no saving us from a promise of humbling mediocrity and its compliment of virulent corruption of government, when we are in a circle of which every path leads back to the start. Turning forward and surely backwards again and again, we spin in turns and are met with ourselves and the decisions we make every day.

“I was told to do that”, “Well they were doing it too”, “I’m too tired today”. We often say we ‘hate politicians’, and there are a basket full of reasons for that. Could it be, that the replicating circle of elastic complacency we all give into is reflected back at us in the baleful glazed over eyes of politicians who have become walking spokesmen for “at least”?

Maybe we cannot remove what we find vile in our governments and societies, because like cancer the enemy is not foreign to us. I give them myself, and in that I gave them the world too.

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Categories: Art, Essay, Politics, WritingTags: , , , , , , , ,

1 comment

  1. That is prop lay true–that all that is wrong is not foreign to us as we are rather sinful creatures,

    Liked by 1 person

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