Terrors of truths

At times I forget how truly blessed I am.

I awaken sweating and shaking. Profusely exhausted and terrified beyond measure. The message attempting to reach me through the dream world had been a reminder and warning.

A reminder of the blessed and dwindling bubble that I am encompassed within. One that allows me to drown out the fear, hunger and pain of my brothers and sisters all across the globe, stuck within a stranglehold of limited opportunity. Is there a way out?

A small child, no more than five, skin and bones, nothing more. Asked me where I came from as I hovered within the room, visible to her and her alone, although many Humans of various health and size ran amok throughout the damaged two story home of mud and clay.

Another place within space. It’s almost impossible to acknowledge that we are of the same race. For the pain, oh the pain. Made me quiver and feel rather insane. For if I sit down and unplug from this young one’s feelings, then her demise is who’s to blame?

What can I do. I yelled. What have I done. I screamed. Nothing. The young child smiled and stared right through me. I was a ghost, alone tethered to her as my host. Trying to make sense of a hell bent situation when my body resided in a place of frost and warmth.

An exhausted and battered man sat weeping in the middle of the child and what appeared to be her parents. A crimson cross dawned the tattered vest he wore, a healer and a warrior. But broken he was, for he was not capable of manifesting a miracle. Food and water, basic medical supplies is what is required. Screaming, he took the hands of the young mother. I am sorry, forgive me, I did what I could. He wept fiercely as the woman took him into her arms and wept alongside him. The older man, standing up, clearly the father, swore and put his hand through the wall. The only way he knew to release the pain that now confronted him.

Now we are together. The young child said kindly to me as her spirit slipped out of her body, acknowledging me, the spectator. For the moment yes, yet I thought this was a dream you see?

No sweet brother, this is reality. You simply live in a world that doesn’t regard or care for the likes of me. This is not true. No young sister I beg to disagree, for I would do anything to show my love for thee. I do what I can but I’m in another world. Consumed by the role of a cog pushing forward an enormous machine.

The beast. The one made of steel? Impenetrable and fearless, the one that brings the world under it’s many limbed heel? The one and the very same. For I was born unto it. How can I free you now, and make sure you do not become a part of it?

Options, many, infinite, the possibilities are endless for us to make do with far less.

Even out the spread. Think of the children that have not yet been able to express what is in their head. The elders whose knowledge and wisdom that we no longer care for is gone with them as they pass on their death bed. Father and mother, please do understand, that within the freedom of our own land we have been trapped in quick sand.

For the inflicted pain and unknown game that is played out daily across this earthly plane is supported by us, the base that allows the structure to stand. One that makes destruction look like brotherhood and suffering as a vital part of our collective plan.

Hide now, for if you awaken to the truth then it may not set you free. For if you forsake your plastic paradise then you may end up alongside me, brother.

Why is it that ghosts always speak to me in soliloquy’s and remind me that the fantasy I seek can only be manifested through every cell of the tree.

For a single cell cannot change the body. If we seek to make a difference then we must awaken suddenly and effectively from this slumber that we have been accustomed to.

Almost as though the living are in a way, dead too.

As this is our moment, and this is most certainly the time, to be critical and understanding rather than slow and of a singular mind.

See past the horizon that we believed was our fate. Understand that we are limitless and capable of far more than hate. Open your heart and see the full circle. What we impact today will go further tomorrow.

The wheel will continue to turn until the sun has reached its peak.

The moon will awaken as the light goes to sleep.

What is the plan, tell me now?

For as I awaken, I understand that the dream will guide me towards where I can truly heal this collective scar tissue, here and now.

For the moment everything is fine.

Sending you light and love,

Brandon.

Categories Personal Thoughts, short storyTags , , , , ,

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