Member-only story
Blessed are the Peacemakers
For they shall inherit the Earth.
What crippling misfortune are we being moved toward? The country is engaged in a perfect storm of insanity beset by so many points of mistrust.
If I stay awake long enough, I fear America is looked down upon by weeping angels through fogs so thick even common sense cannot see through it.
Yes, I am a defeatist at this stage—a word not usually in my vocabulary. This fight is one for the young.
I regret the modern filthy education in America, stripping all the advantages from those who won’t make college. Yes, they will still do well with their skills as tradesmen. Still, without worldly knowledge, critical thinking, finance, and the importance of democracy, they will always appear as second-class citizens, non-fact.
Instead, I’m leaving to choose a life of amusement, dreaming of fantastic worlds, monstrous loves, acrobats, beggars, and bandits who become priests…a life of believing I can. I will escape modern suffering through art…through my poorly written stories…but finally, I, too, will see my punishment.
The world has no ages; humanity moves from place to place, that’s all. I am a Western man and can live in the Orient if I choose, but my mind has been fast asleep.
