Nothing
Nothing is coming. My mind is numb with the wretchedness of a consuming abyss. The abyss of working day in day out for a vampire state. I've nought to complain about, yet I feel the toll of the life sucking toil that this extistence demands. Time seems to be of the essence. Tis true that I waste what seems to be reams of it with my tinkering about doing nothing of importance. My latest wasteful extravagance is ripping my CD collection onto a new mp3 player, which I purchased in one of my flights of capriciousness. I could be using the rare commodity of time doing something useful, however I desist with novelties that are of little substance.
One could perhaps envisage ample time in which to pursue a leisurely existence, however realities are born at a great distance to the feeble attempts of imagination. Perhaps I will never warm to the idea that the better part of a lifetime will be spent in servitude to some force that demands complete obedience. How far have we come from the days of old where Master and Slave were the accepted norm?
Am i free? Are you free? Are we enslaved to this ideal life? Have you the freedom to sleep for as long as you please. Are you ruled by the ticking of a clock, to a machine that requires your input so that the wheels of economy spin. Spin perpetually with soul sweats and the tears of toil from weary eyes, as bones creak to the six o'clock shuffle.
Perhaps I whinge and moan about the nuances of freedom yet am myself chained to the offerings of slavery. Yesterday I heard the beat of revolutions drum as protester's heralded the unfair conditions that cleaners face. I felt sympathy for their cause but I feel that their calls of revolution will go unheard. Australia is in transition to industrial relations reform and perhaps these cleaners protesting about the poor wages are at the mercy of corporate greed. Unskilled workers are amidst the hard times IR reform will bring to those less fortunate than I. It brings me back into my trivalities of complaint. Freedom is a word I have trouble with. Perhaps it is not within our experience to accept freedom so we are more at ease in slavery.
I've mused over freedom for some time now and I have no way to achieve it. I am connected to this consumerist society, it has me in its evil grasp and perhaps I am unwilling to break free from it. A part of me knows that whatever I do I will never be free from serfdom. I will always be enslaved. Perhaps the only freedom available is achievable through acceptance. A resignation to the mediocrity of being a part of the herd and where I sit in amongst the masses. Accepting that freedom from the meagre offerings of the bump and grind is probably never going to eventuate. Perhaps I can find some gratitude in the idea that my part in mediocrity is a little more comfortable than the majority of serfs in this world.
One could perhaps envisage ample time in which to pursue a leisurely existence, however realities are born at a great distance to the feeble attempts of imagination. Perhaps I will never warm to the idea that the better part of a lifetime will be spent in servitude to some force that demands complete obedience. How far have we come from the days of old where Master and Slave were the accepted norm?
Am i free? Are you free? Are we enslaved to this ideal life? Have you the freedom to sleep for as long as you please. Are you ruled by the ticking of a clock, to a machine that requires your input so that the wheels of economy spin. Spin perpetually with soul sweats and the tears of toil from weary eyes, as bones creak to the six o'clock shuffle.
Perhaps I whinge and moan about the nuances of freedom yet am myself chained to the offerings of slavery. Yesterday I heard the beat of revolutions drum as protester's heralded the unfair conditions that cleaners face. I felt sympathy for their cause but I feel that their calls of revolution will go unheard. Australia is in transition to industrial relations reform and perhaps these cleaners protesting about the poor wages are at the mercy of corporate greed. Unskilled workers are amidst the hard times IR reform will bring to those less fortunate than I. It brings me back into my trivalities of complaint. Freedom is a word I have trouble with. Perhaps it is not within our experience to accept freedom so we are more at ease in slavery.
I've mused over freedom for some time now and I have no way to achieve it. I am connected to this consumerist society, it has me in its evil grasp and perhaps I am unwilling to break free from it. A part of me knows that whatever I do I will never be free from serfdom. I will always be enslaved. Perhaps the only freedom available is achievable through acceptance. A resignation to the mediocrity of being a part of the herd and where I sit in amongst the masses. Accepting that freedom from the meagre offerings of the bump and grind is probably never going to eventuate. Perhaps I can find some gratitude in the idea that my part in mediocrity is a little more comfortable than the majority of serfs in this world.
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