I Grasp to my ideas, viewpoints (and words)
Hanging onto them as if they were all I had.
Too many people have died, or suffered,
From the idea of possession.
I should fight the idea that
I can hold on to anything
Lest I want to choke creativity.
From possession we get:
Competition, competition is what got us here. Economic, social, political… competition. Everyone trying to take a piece for themselves the piece they deserve what they’ve got comin’ to ‘em. Whereby it is regardless of the means necessary to take it. Psychologically, physically, take it.
We posses a culture. We hold on to our culture and our traditions because they gather together the right feelings inside; Drama, we love to live within our drama; happiness, contentment, security within the familiar; how many years in a row am I supposed to watch A Christmas Story on TV during the whole month of December. Funny thing about America; culture is what drove us here, either to plant the root of a culture in a new land, a new territory, or to get away from an old culture and start anew. When are we gonna start anew? When are we going to stand up and accept change, differences, and the limitations of language. When are we going to drop the lie of separation and realize the interconnection; borders and ownership only exist within the idea of possession.
I have been constantly striving to take life,
to take ownership of it.
Holding fast to my culture, my interests, my identity.
Which then leaves me living in doubt,
since deep down I know I can’t own life,
or anything herein.
So I doubt my place in life.
I guess that meanz I’ve been living a lie. When life is a lie it ceases to be. it becomes and then it ceases, as does everything that is created. But if life is lived as truth, as what it has presented here and now then it has been experienced.