Alta Alatis Patent

~~~
What is freedom?

Freedom is the courage to make a choice and live by the consequences of our actions.
Total acceptance of all inevitables.
~~~

~~~
The essence of Strength
is not how loud you could shout
not how hard you could punch
not how high you could keep your pride up.

The essence of Strength
is about keeping your head cool
and your temper under control.

So you’ll know when to strike
and when to fall back
as you face the worst
at the gate of darkness.

~~~

A woman weep on the TV screen. Lamenting the fate of her husband, convicted as a terrorist, awaiting death on the hand of the righteous law enforcer. “He’s innocent,” she wailed between her sobs. “He’s my husband.” The picture changed, a man in expensive suit with a boring tie. “It’s decided,” he declared, “Justice must be served.” The anchor woman pop in with a plastic smile, announcing another message of grave importance. Floods, catasthropes, war, human idiocy. They call it news, these tragedies. They believe we need to know.

They told us about this war in distant lands, they move us to do something about it. They call us to act, to go beyond the great sea and fight this war of strangers. Solidarity, brotherhood, justice: their words of wisdom. They forgot one more, though: violence. It’s the core of their actions. Violence, they breath with it, live with it, can do nothing without it. They can’t help it, this cluster of manhood we call ‘human race’. Violence, it’s their language of ‘truth’.

It’s funny, really, the way they define their values. They’re enraged by the news of strangers died in their faraway lands. They rush out to help, to defend those strangers with whom they never shared earth and waters and blood. Promising God’s heaven to anyone naïve enough to listen (what right do they have, promising something that’s not even theirs to offer?). But when they heard of their own sisters wronged so far away from home, the only word of justice they cried out is silence.

And I thought of a bitter debate I had some time ago, when the same righteous people fought to ban abortion, when they forcefully condemned abortion and calling it evil, calling it murder. Where are they now, as the death penalty hover around demanding it’s toll? Why wouldn’t they call it murder? Why wouldn’t they call it evil?

They believe they’re righteous, these people of values. They blinded their eyes to the double standard upon which they build their values—be it as glaringly obvious as it is. They care not about our own sisters who work as TKW being wronged. They care not of the murders performed by our own so-called law. They care not about the violence of neglect continually done by our own government. They care for nothing but their own values… they cannot feel nor see the hollow emptiness within those values.

So here I am, weeping for their blindness, weeping for their vast majority, weeping for my helplessness to make a change.

Are you willing to be sponged out, erased, cancelled,
made nothing?
Are you willing to be made nothing?
dipped into oblivion?

If not, you will never really change.

The phoenix renews her youth
only when she is burnt, burnt alive, burnt down,
to hot and flocculent ash.
Then the small stirring of a new small bub in the nest
with strands of down like floating ash
Shows that she is renewing her youth like the eagle
Immortal bird.

~A shred of truth I found in D.H.Lawrence’s poem.