The War Within My Presence

As I sit here typing and scrolling the normal facebook shenanigans, I am overwhelmed by the atrocities against freedom and the world, human and natural. Not just in my country, the US, but across the globe. I see the effects a small country can have on a power when money is involved. It is becoming more and more apparent to me that everything is based around the oil monster. They are using religions and media to keep it going and I am not really sure how to feel about this.



I ask myself, is this real? How can all these things real? Or, are they a way to keep us away from the present, the now? Is this what it all means- are we at war with the present??
There are those that are in the loop of the war of the world that will never ever stop and then there are those that are oblivious, living their moment. But, how are those that are oblivious and in the moment able to separate? I find these transgressions grasping the very heart that I am trying to keep beating and pulling it toward doom. I tell myself that nothing is real except now. And then, well, War happens, internally!
I can’t seem to escape these realities. I have seen first hand what war is. I have been in it. It was all the same thing day to day, you just have a larger chance of not making it into the next moment. Afghanistan has been at war since Alexander the Great. Their land is barren and desolate. The women and children, especially the girls, are treated as outcasts.
The stamp on their DNA is so hell ridden they can’t walk without leaving a trail of soot.
This little girl followed me the whole time we were in the village. The boys would punch her and grab her until I eventually bumped one with the muzzle of my rifle and pulled her close to me- they backed off for the duration of my stay, staying close by like vultures. I feel this may have had consequences after, however, for a second she felt safe and gave me this half ass smile. She was a broken spirit for sure.
Death Camp 101
This boy peeking shyly standing close to the Afghan soldier with his  Russian donated AK47 rifle tucked close, wearing the US’s old BDU uniforms from Vietnam speaks volumes.


Where Does the Truth Lie

If we are all consciousness and we just reform once we leave these bodies into some stardust, galactic thought, then why do we chose to suffer even when we are aware?
I see a society of sociopaths and warmongers and child abusers. The people with compassion sit back and shed tears and send prayers but their hopes are lost in the fight that they try to represent behind computer screens and that is where I sit. Here, behind the light of a billion eyes that cannot judge a book by the words in it.
If there is someone out there that can help heal this or can guide me to make a step to be a voice of reason to these monsters, then I will swallow the muzzle as I scream to stars for them to stop allowing the consciousness of the world to expand upon all this hate and greed.
And as these letters I type escape into the void, I see the scenario of the muzzle deep in my throat as they laugh at the pitty I want them to feel, as I endure the gravel in my knees and the tears of peace roll down my cheeks as I plead for our lives, human and otherwise, that are being destroyed. I cannot even try to wrap my consciousness around their process of ignorance and hate. I cannot bring myself to be friends with those that even think that it isn’t an issue.
I sit on the beach sometimes and see the families vacationing. I die inside a little because I am there watching them. I am guilt-ridden. I want to take them to the front lines to see the ghosts of wars past, present, and future, showing them the sorrow that was, is, and will be. All they see are the waves crashing before them and the child’s play. All they view when they return home are the various stories the news allows them to take in as they shake their heads and reflect with “What a shame”.
These programs they follow are given to them through a not so modern brainwashing scheme. They pass the cameras on the streets and swipe left and right their judgment of what they are told to believe.
And once again, as I sit and write this, I see me fading into the world knowing that I will pass like the rest with this pain in my heart having done nothing. I see myself practicing presence and feeling at peace in the moments in between the shackles of compassion for the crimes being committed against humanity.
I have no control and I can’t pretend that I am not some type of hypocrite as I sip my coffee and pet my dog. But I share this emotion with you because it is real. IT is heavy and I am ready to sacrifice it all if someone can take my hand and pull me to a place where truth and love prevail without genocide.

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