Sometimes I spread my hands to the sky certain that they can grasp the stars but they can't, yet I keep reaching anyways.
And there's something beautiful about spinning on a field when the only thing visible is the night sky, and the only thing insignificant is you.
When I was young the thought of the world revolving around the sun intrigued me, and those moments somehow made me feel at one with the world.
Spin, spin, spinning, but then I would stop and my feet could no longer keep up with pace of my head, so I’d go flying in all directions just like disillusioned men when they go stumbling down streets unfamiliar to them.
Sometimes I wonder if the world is the way it is because it is in chaos and no one even knows.
Like somehow everyone is at a disadvantage,
Like no mind is sober because of a natural disposition pinned against us by gravity.
What if that is why men do the things they do, because I always wonder under what spirit do they operate, what demons have they encountered, that cause them to be possessed with this hate that makes *** slaves of the unfortunate, orphans of the unprepared, single mothers of the lovers, victims of our children, and on and on and on and on again.
Life just keeps moving and we just keep making the same mistakes. generations pass, people die but no one understands that we are just animals, caught in a war against ourselves.
Against our greed, our pride, our lust, our security, our beliefs.
We are so full of ourselves that we don't notice what is happening around us, we don't know that the world is spinning at 1000 mph; we have lost touch with the things that matter, lost all connections with the truth in the sky that enlightens anyone who dares to approach it.
always forgetting that it is the beauty of the moon, and the millions of stars that remind us that We Are Insignificant
But instead we are grounded and we have stopped so our feet cannot keep up with the pace of our heads so we have lost our balance.
You know I'm afraid, I'm afraid for my life.
On morbid days I envision myself in my coffin, I see my lifeless body and the pastor walking up to the podium, he says,
"Jal, he was an average man, maybe a bit eccentric, tragedy struck and this young man was taken away from us way too early by the devastating actions of an unidentified person.”
I watch the whole funeral and in curiosity I wonder which belief was it that killed me, or was it something outside my control like the color of my skin.
You see most people pray to be put down while they are sleeping by the famous killer, old age, but I don't know if I'll make it that long.
I've always said I want to be fully aware of the moment I die.
That's why when I was young on family road trips, when the only thing I could see was the 350 ft. ahead of the car illuminated by the headlights, and the determined face of my father, I would fight to stay awake because I couldn't let death take me by surprise.
But now I'm eighteen I occasionally have nightmares of my loved ones dying, but then again I don't really sleep anymore because death threatens to come at any moment.
A terrorist attack could shatter the windows of this house I consider impenetrable, or even a hungry thief thinking irrationally about his rationality.
This is the world we live in.
The world is spinning off its axis and things that used to seem so far have slid closer and closer, until I’m looking right into the eyes of death.
From 9-11, to Westgate, to genocide, things are closing in on me, and the “what ifs” are no longer so improbable and I am afraid.
I'm afraid that the world will never change, that people will stay the same, that I will go insane.
I’m going insane.
Could people just understand, could we just stop for a moment, grab each other’s hands and walk to open fields together at twilight after all traces of the sun have gone, could we whirl around with our heads to the skies, our nature abandoned, and our bodies in sync with the world,
Could we just spin and spin and spin until we once again become what we were made to be.
Could we just be more than animals?
