Fears*Choice

Rainbow Brain — Sat, 14 Apr 2007 19:30:25 -0400

R Moshki wrote:

The level of doublethink is high among these soldiers, their family and friends.

Depressing and sad.

One must live deep within the deception of fear in order to take another's life, the sadness and depression of such a history is the single track which now continues to repeat itself over and over for the many who shall die by the hands of their own deeds, the choice of their own will . . . thus from the many will rise the few who see and know The HE(ART) of Peace . . .

BL*M

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R Moshki — Fri, 13 Apr 2007 19:50:57 -0400

Got kicked out of a pro-war blog today. The level of doublethink is high among these soldiers, their family and friends.

Depressing and sad.

it is hoped this place is more openminded.
the single track is never the song to sing.

4th anniversary approaches

Jason White — Mon, 12 Mar 2007 13:02:47 -0400

LMH, your song reminds me of my own state of mind during the march to war. I cried bitter, frustrated tears as the bombs fell and the hopes and wishes of the 10s of millions who took to the streets around the world in March 2003 were ignored. As we near the 4th anniversary of this useless violence, it is interesting to reflect on where we were then.

I wrote the following on March 17, 2003, three days before the bombing started, when it became clear, absolutely clear, in my mind that the Bush Administration had no intention of solving the issue peacefully and never did.

Quote:

Soaking. Striving. Starving. Discerning. Alarming. Repressed teenage bloodlust, we are powerful and just barely out of control. Now we give in to sadness in the hope that the future could someday feel so bright again. F**king the present. Ignoring the pain. The Pain. The PAIN. THE PAIN! We block it out. It is too much to look at. We medicate ourselves. Media. Food. Sex. Prescription medications of complacency mediocrity and sickening righteousness. We will get through this quickly. It’s just a shot then a cotton ball then a bandaid and a lollipop. All better. Mama’s going to make it all better. Mama please make it all better. Don’t let us hurt us. There is no Them. There is only Us. Breathing. Being. Cycles of sleep and wake. Again and again. Birth death birth. A clothes dryer. A tumbling arc forever folding and mixing and defying any claim to an upper hand. Yet the only fight worth fighting is inside ourselves. To work through it, to evolve, to revolve, as in revolution. How bright is the flame that lights our knowing, our living, our loving. All the movement, all the understanding, the resonance that we try not to grab too greedily comes together in a point that is Everything. Over and over. How to be still. To be re-woven into this fabric, the calamity of the moment is an appendage, a vestigial structure, a stray branch to be pruned and ground up to become our nourishment.

Those were intense times indeed. I hope others will share their reflections of then and now as the anniversary approaches.

Peace please. Jason.

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Fears*Choice

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4th anniversary approaches