Chapter 1- I am Awoke
Why am I here? The question was daunting. the answer was …….well, we will see.
People tend to live like animals, rarely contemplating the result of their actions. The anesthetic that numbs their world is virtue. Thus one could say to themselves I did it because it felt right.
Well, I did it cause it felt right!
I had reached this point, not by winning every battle, but rather I survived every fight. I do not believe the human race understands the constant state of war its appetites demand. War on poverty, war on terror, war on inequality, war on… war on… and on and on…..
Gets to be where war is a just something you do after breakfast. I would turn on the TV and watch it tell me of all the wars being fought and I began to feel just a bit guilty about not doing my part. It was inevitable there would be a day I decided I would no longer just be an observer. Today was that day. I was going to help make all the wrongs right, then I could turn on the news and it would tell me no more of wars, but rather, of how we had created the bliss that comes with the end of war.
I had been abused as a child. Sure, my dad worked and my mom stayed home. I lived in a warm home in winter and cool home in summer. I was never hungry nor in fear of being so. I made good grades in school and went to college then on to graduate studies. It was then I awoke to the abuse I had suffered. What was the abuse? It is privilege All the people in the past that had made it possible for me to advance had abused me. I did not deserve the place I held in the world. Those people who had built a society in which science could advance had only been thinking of privilege, a privilege that would advance people lucky enough to have been born into privilege.
The shame I felt at that moment was more than I thought I could bear, so I took up a banner and joined those that would fight against privilege. I helped beat down those that would speak for privilege. I would burn those buildings that folks of privilege use to spew the ways of the privileged. I have also helped kill the privileged.
The first battles to be fought were of the mind, my mind. I had to show I rejected my privilege. How does one go about showing themselves that they reject that which was given, but would not take if given a choice?
Chapter 2-Start the journey
My decision had been made to reject all privilege. Immediately an itch in my brain begged me not to desert my privilege. It was so loud I could not sleep. To combat this annoyance, I stepped out with a few of my like-minded peers and went hunting. The war against our mind bending itches had begun. Understand, there is a voice in most people’s head, that if listened to, can lead you to live a life of privilege. However, when we put our minds together we can shut up those voices, to become of one mind and there is great comfort in that unity.
My colleagues and I would go on these forays when our minds were restless and destroy privilege, Businesses that took money to supply their privilege and make war on the poor. We would destroy cars on the street used by the privileged masters to make war on the environment, and woe unto those who would come upon us using their privileged mouths, trying to stop us from abusing their privilege.
This went on until we ran into other like-minded folks. They had a person that helped us sharpen our focus towards those that were privileged. This person seemed to hear our thoughts. Their speech was music to our ears and we were of one mind. They understood how to get our message out to the wider segment of the public, wanted our wants. Privilege must end at all cost. It treats those with no privilege as slaves, sickening them with poverty and ignorance. If we could just eradicate privilege, the world would be a perfect place. All would be equal and no other would be able to lord their privilege over another. We continued within our area to make war against those who would speak for the privileged. The media flashed our battles across the world, thus awakening those of like mind to arise and join in our fight against privileged oppressors.. Uprisings such as our’s started all over the world and we were told by our leaders and the media that we were starting to win the war. We were changing the world.
Then there was fire.
Chapter 3-Best laid plans
We readied ourselves for another battle with the privileged at a rally they were holding justifying their privilege. By this time, the itch that had been in my mind was a long forgotten phenomena. Our minds in the movement were as one, and we were of a single determination. To destroy the enemy of the unprivileged. Our weapons ranged from rocks to guns and everything in between. The media informed the world about the truth of our struggle. How we were right to do what we had to do to attain the perfect world The media showed everyone the world and it’s leaders were cheering for us. They told us the cause was right and this is the right time and if not now when? That question was not a question in our mind, it was a declaration that now was the time to end the war and to end war we must be willing to do all things. So we ran into the rally, punching, stabbing, fighting, and shooting. There was chaos, as the police stood down knowing our cause was just. Chaos is our battleground. The privileged know they are wrong in their hearts, just as I did, and they cowered and fell to our onslaught. Before entering this fight, I had seen my enemies destruction in my head and I had wished them dead. I had seen their corpses in my mind’s eye, and the vision had imbued me with great joy. A joy which gave our struggle more purpose than I had ever experienced It made me the god of my universe, having power over life and death. The power of creating a society in our image.
Then I was on fire. Not a fire of the mind, but a fire of my clothes and body. It had engulfed me. As I noted, we had weapons, and it seems that molotov cocktails was the choice for some of my fellow travelers. My problem, at that time, is they had decided they wanted to see something burn and they were none to particular on what was to be burnt. I screamed. I actually do not know to this day if I was screaming out loud, but I do know, for a fact, that there was a screaming in my head and that is the only pain I felt. It lasted an eternity and pierced through my very soul screaming to this very day.
Chapter 4 — Conclusion
It seems as if eons have passed since that experience. I now lay in a bed, with tubes feeding, breathing, and shoving fluids into the carcass that is my body. They keep me alive. The bed rotates me and medical staff shifts my body, thus mitigating my sores and they tend to my body’s needs. I am medicated to a point I do not know what is real at times or what is fantasy.. I am in pain constantly.
It is ironic, there is in this room, a TV. The staff feels as if I am comforted to have it on. I can not see, I can not speak, I can not move a single muscle. Why then, would they think I can hear? But I can. Oh that I wish I could not, but I can. It is always on the news. It talks of the war on poverty, the war on terror, the war…. on and on and on….
I have survived every battle, of that I am sure, or did I?
In the beginning, when the pain was beyond human endurance, I prayed for death, I was certain that I would pass and be nevermore. Worse yet, as time passed, the itch in my brain returned to haunt me, to tell me of how privilege has saved me. It mocks my very existence everyday, telling me of how science and the privilege derived thereof has made my entire existence possible. It then asked me what food did I eat in those days I was fighting? Where did I live? How did I travel? Did I not use privilege everyday in my fight against privilege? It taunts me, asking why I did not use my privilege to make more privilege and spread that wealth of that privilege. Why did I try to destroy it so that it could exist no more?
It will not stop asking me! It has been days, months, years. How many? I have no idea, in that it feels like an eternity. Then a question creeps into my soul, that scares me far more than having privilege ever did.
What if I did die? What if I was wrong and there is a hell?