I'm alright in my place, but my place is in hell in The eye of every storm

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

~Yeats

Its interesting. People die and people are born and it’s one of those security camera scenes of a turnstile entrance from above a train station, sped up and grainy. Innocuous faces blur through, stepping into the void or walking out of it, interacting with strangers for the briefest of time; a hesitation, a slight pull, a brushing of hands or an accidental shoulder bump.

We’re an ant colony that cannot work together. We’re a beehive without a queen. We are prey, and time is a lion in wait, watching over our happiness near the water hole.

It’s depressing. There’s no reason to write anything, as there is nothing new under the sun. Tales of heartache, loss, love, passion, regret, sorrow, forgiveness, adventure make up the collective conscious of our souls, but are constantly retold. There’s just some elements changed. Star Wars. Heart of Darkness. The Notebook. A Merchant in Venice. As I Lay Dying. Die Hard. The Never Ending Story.

I’ve learned the struggle exists, but I’m finding out it doesn’t matter. Moving forward to sheer nothingness with the last breath of reckless abandon, the walls rattle with the winds of decay. We hammer our plows into weapons for this ending so carefully structured and planned. In our hearts, the hum of bedlam strikes the same notes from antiquity. We cannot take our phantoms and curse them away. We are bound together, slaves to one another, and there is rust on every link.

It’s interesting. People die and people are born and we don’t seem to notice. We live with a compartmentalized, accepted detachment from one another. Our faces buried in our phones, our technology hanging below our ears, plugged to drown strangers noise out, we barely look up at the horror approaching.

There’s nothing social about it, sharing our tales of heartache, love, passion, regret, sorrow, forgiveness, and adventure. We just change the elements, shuffle the faces, rearrange the names in the same scenarios. Lord of the Rings. A Walk in the Woods. Robinson Crusoe. The Glass Menagerie. No Country for Old Men.

Razing the shadows and rending silence to shreds, shine on overreaction.

Last updated January 12, 2016