I look at my fellow man and I see soldiers.
Soldiers who obey the common law.
Soldiers who obey what they’ve been surrounded by.
And soldiers who fight along side with everyone but with a prerogative of their own.
Survival was never taught in bootcamp.
Never after our escape from mother’s womb were we told the perils of trust and loyalty.
Never told of all the great many truths that were out in our battle ground to be unleashed at us at any given moment.
That was never our state of reality.
We were bred into fantasy,
Life is just life and with math, spelling, and education you will be alright.
What about when we are shot down and the one’s who stop to help us are going down all around us?
What about when the shots ring out in the dead of night and we are not as fast as the bullets?
When the biggest aggressor in our life is fellow man, how on Earth are we supposed to be enticed by fantasy?
I assure you that not everyone has the same fantasy nor the same battle gear.
Some have Ginsu knifes, some have machine guns, some have missiles, and some have first aid kits.
In recent times all I see is war.
Seems like before this we were blissfully unaware what all this training was here for;
Now pandemic has voiced the racial systemic injustices to front and centre.
Now we realise that those who have cased this war aren’t even on the battle ground and we are thousands of miles from them;
Now we fight each other.
Now some soldiers stay loyal to what they know, and others grow with what they are learning.
Now we’re divided and we wave to fellow soldiers who are crossing boarders to other sides we don’t speak to anymore.
Here I lost myself, at this point I was ripped apart by pain and misinterpreted identity.
My fantasy was that we already lived in a world united;
divided we stand, divid struck down my soul.
No one should have fallen over what I perceived then as coexistence.
It was all a fabrication of my imagination set on fire when the first banner went up.
In the chaos that ensued I didn’t know who to save so I ran in a frenzy grabbing whom ever’s arm I could but everyone was scattered.
But I was injured, my rescue mission hindered.
Call it self-sabotage; call it self-image lost.
I knew it was a broken heart.
When you care for so many, so many now so many different places;
Where do you even begin when giving aid?
That’s who I am, that is what I do.
I help people stand back up.
I light fires but under people’s butts to get them on track.
I’ve been sitting on these tracks…
Sitting on these tracks for months.
Do I go home?
Do I give up?
Did I ever give enough?
The frown went from under my nose to the bottoms of my shoes…
The depth of my soul more so felt like it was in no control.
The dirt looks so tempting rather than the flames that has taken over my home city.
But a comrade came from the ashes to give posterity to ideals I held dear.
“You stand with me”
I think that is all I really needed to hear.
To be told that my identity hasn’t vanished and faded away in the rush of truth that my name still stood in people’s perception.
I know I am not alone, I know there’s truth to it all and somewhere through the fog, the crossfire, the hatred.
The truth is there is a REASON for this time.
on a small and big scale.
If you’ve lost your identity, it isn’t forgotten.
It is being reborn.
And it hurts to know there is more who fell voiceless-
But those are now the one’s I want to uplift and put into action.
The individualism was lifted to a level of benevolence where it does not allow wiggle room for there to be other views or stories on how things really are, in reality, to other individuals.
We all experience life differently,
but if you take away your ability to adapt and think outside of your experience;
You make yourself vulnerable.
You may have people in your new gear, but when it all comes down and there is differences between views and ideals you hold;
It’s a hard find when you find yourself cast away as an outsider who never got the courtesy of explanation and acceptance of a different truth.
That is were we are at,
War with the blind.
The blind who don’t want to listen or open their hearts enough to understand.
Frustrating but it never has to be agonising.
Hold those who love you close and know that there are people in the woodworks who is thinking through the same shit.
This is our steps forward into glory, soldiers.
Just hold onto one thing;
it ain’t no bayonet!