Violence and justice. Justice and reparations. We seem to pick and choose the circumstances where we apply our principles, and values are a currency we spend when it suits us. Justice has not been accessible to me. The death of my father affected me greatly, I am still learning what that means but getting justice never really occurred to me. Justice is a western concept in the way that it is practised. It centres the "criminals" in their wrongdoing and leaves the "victims" out in the cold to rot and fester, get better or die. Just be quiet as we act out the ritual violence that is more about our needs than yours.
Violence I’ve grown up thinking it’s natural and what I have to do is act good. That I am always on the cusp of being caught, that doing wrong is what I am supposed to be so nothing good comes out of me unless it is bestowed by someone externally. Shame comes with that, shame comes as a consequence of not being accepted, being loved or being cared for. Knowledge, respect, responsibility and care, are the parameters that create love—real love not just the ideas you hold dear. Being familiar isn’t the same as love. I don’t think you can love until you know yourself. Unless you understand what it means to explore and learn yourself, then love comes as a natural phenomenon. We are so separated from who we are. And who we need to be is what the aim is for. We close our eyes and sleepwalk through the day hoping for the return of Friday, straight to the pub for a bevvy so we can feel less, so that the excess will help us repress, an abscess grows somewhere out of sight. Where nobody knows until it’s too late.
Sorrow is deep and entrenched, we run from what we need to face, we make sense by hiding from the truth hoping it won’t find us. We change and disguise ourselves hoping that we will find respite here, but the life we lead, doesn’t give us what we need, and the truth is for the most part if we sat with ourselves it would be really hard at least at first when we start to listen because of all the pain and shame we’ve been pushing down, whistling dixies staring at the sky, pulling the wool over our eyes.
We keep looking everywhere else, but the answer is right here, right inside it doesn’t take anything, no pen, no paper, no weed, no drink all we need to do is sit. When we realise ourselves then things might change or at least we can be conscious and aware of the true costs of action instead of turning the lights off and walking in the dark.
What do I write, the truth? I am still looking for community, I feel split most of the time because I want to be surrounded and alone simultaneously and it makes no sense to me. Maybe in this age of globalism community comes when I am honest about who I am. Honest with myself the best I can. Things change until I understand that I am always becoming and the I am is eternally present.
Comments