The Sound of My Life

My heart is humble in the face of endless landscapes and places where the modern world hasn’t invaded. Beautiful places are safe. I sometimes fear the world that we all live in. I fear those human beings that can crash airplanes into tall buildings killing thousands of people. At the same time, I fear leaders who use war and try to justify their killings. How can a war justify dead woman and children lying on the ground? Where does someone escape an ignorant worthless existence? Animals kill, but Animals never instituted a holocaust like humans are capable of doing. It’s very sickening, because I am human. I am held down and mocked by those who don’t want to understand. Humans are scary. But when out there on the wilderness, away from civilization, the wind howls all around me. It feels safe. There are many hidden places that the Unknown can still abide.

The oppression is overwhelming. Society is getting old in its worthless despair. Their existence is beginning to look like a grave. And from my perspective, it’s being done in the name of religion. One day, when everything deteriorates, people will be left with their survival. There will be no airplanes stealing the sky. Those gigantic cities will be dark at night, like ruins. It will be peaceful when real justice comes. The outcome is not known though. And I think Earth will do the cleaning.

Could I rip myself from the core of this existence? What could I do? Trying to exist in this world is always an uphill climb. But it is also impossible to understand what everything means? I’ve always possessed deep anger. It is difficult to interpret though, but it’s been very close to my heart. I’ve defended what I feel about truth.

My existence is unforeseeable, but my dreams are strong, and I am not afraid to talk. Nobody can regulate my behavior, or my spirit. Life is uncontrollable and so is my Expression. The clouds cannot be controlled, and they freely roam that deep blue sky, and my spirit wants the same. When I am on the mountain, I look down upon everything in an ageless forest; the flashlight then becomes my friend against the dark night of winter. The tower of stars can be heard singing, for the light found in this world, is the peace of such rest and stillness. The sun is shining in a quiet world.

While all of us are probably blind-folded, there are those that suffer in the heat of a miserable existence, and they want to grow strong. What has been stolen needs to find its place once again. There is strength everywhere, and it’s a power that is understandable. Because it simply enters my dreams and desires like a tornado, and it creates certain feelings. Any strong truth is awesome. Anything that we can relate with could be truth.

My brain is quite screwed-up. I’ve been a selfish person, and with that, I’ve become wasted space. But my convictions cannot be squashed. The landscape is older then us. It’s more alive then most people who take without giving. It’s older than those that destroy beauty to simply eradicate the meaning of everything. The land does not exist for economical purposes, or recreational purposes. It serves a definitive purpose, and I am tired of seeing it exploited. It belongs to certain nations that are understandable.

It makes my heart bitter to know that some people destroy places that are sacred to others. I am tired of hearing about every form of exploitation, and the mindless creeps that take the fat of everything beautiful. I am sick of hearing about the disease that wants to occupy everywhere and in between. It’s taking, and taking, but giving nothing back. It’s a thief. It’s an ignorance plagued with immense stupidity, because in its greatest intelligence, it will be forever blind. It is totally oblivious to truth and harmony.

In the summer, when I am on the desert listening the thunder gather, I can feel the heartbeat and wisdom that stirs. When I see an old man barely surviving, I think of his great strength, and how ignorant I am. When I see old people, or a little baby, I am reminded of beauty. When I see things that are beautiful, my heart rejoices that such things compose this world; for she is our awesome Earth Mother, whom we should have the greatest respect for.

The power of this world is mysterious. I have no definition for anything. It’s strange that one truth can contradict another. But everything is hard to understand, and my place is peaceful, and silent. The amazing thing is a four-thousand year old Bristlecone Pine Tree standing against the heavens, while its roots cling against solid stone with barely any moisture.

I guess when no one is around, you don’t have to argue or relate. But when you have relatives around, you should understand them, no matter how screwed up they might be. You’re screwed up too. And it is disturbing when I try to honestly think outside the box of paradigms that I carry so close. So I am always left with the conclusion that I know nothing at all. I can’t ever claim to know anything. And I cannot even begin to explain what I am trying to describe.

Getting off the soap-box now… 🙂