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Sunday, 25 May 2014

The Questioner

                                                   The Questioner
by Stormm





"Paralysed for fear of entry into the womb..."


We were on the outskirts of Ottawa, new years eve, many years ago.

L. had invited me to visit with his family during the holidays. 

The womb was a tomb, a crowded night club in Hull, when this line came to me.

It was a time of confusion, the era and error of The Follower.

I The Cold Plains Drifter, The Seeker Of Forbidden Knowledge, 

The Shadowless Sword, The Future King.

Had always known that I was different from most around me.

Questioning my culture, society, progress, and the lack thereof.

Living in a world that seemed to be based on polytricks and voodoo economics. 

Ultimately I would question reality, while my peers where bent on pursuing false illusions.

I could clearly see their or my own possible futures, 

the side effects and results of taking a common path.

Here's what it is: I was becoming keenly aware that my teachers were lying, 

preachers were lying, my parents were lying, big media is lying, 

and politicians are definitely lying. 

All were saying one thing, while doing the other. 

In fact signs were everywhere, and the sign said things are not what they seem to be.

But most people presume this natural condition is a temporary phase,

then you're supposed to mature and get on with it, accept your feeble lot.

That was considered being practical, yeah right, who were they kidding?



Machivelli preached deception, but if you think about it, who's really being deceived?

All those know it all psychology majors thinking they're smarter, 

trying to break down and classify people into generalities?

No they were the undead, the bitter and twisted, 

subconsciously aware that somewhere along the line, they had gone astray.

If you play games with people, ultimately you're playing games with yourself,

and who would really want to do that? 

I was coming to grips with the obvious: this was a realm of many distractions and deceptions. 

It was a bloody massacre, where the majority are rushing into the line of fire, blind.

Yes, they have dreams and aspirations just like me, 

but they were all too ready and willing to throw them away.

In the name of doing the right thing, doing what you gotta do, 

so you too can shrug your shoulders and call it a life.

Why? Because everyone is doing the same?

To an outsider it would seem like I was stalling, just wasting time.

You see the trouble with me, is I knew I had options.

The question was choice, the answer the desired effect. 

As I observed my cohorts, siblings, rivals, elders,

on one hand I was deeply motivated by the work ethic of proud, humble immigrants,

wanting a brighter future and willing to sacrifice their dreams, 

on the hopes their children would go further.

But I could also see them getting stuck on the treadmill, 

witness the daily grind taking it's toll.




I didn't want to end up like Elvis singing, "We're caught in a trap, I can't walk out."

Or Marlon Brando in the back seat crying, "I could have been a contender".

Rest assured it was a complex labyrinth , there were many and various traps,

in fact it was becoming quite apparent,

there are those who spend a great deal of time and resources, 

devising more nets to capture the masses.

The simple pursuit of money was a rat in a maze trap, the nine to five a tax trap, 

the criminal life a short lived, paranoid murder rap, 

yet another lap around the corporate prison track.

I was terribly afraid of falling into any if not all, of these same old traps.

Deep down I knew that living a life where you're not doing the things you love is suicide, 

no matter the perceived benefits.

Fuck the cultural gloss of superficial happiness, 

as if buying useless consumer items can make you happy like the people on the screen.

They're getting paid to "Don't worry Be Happy", while we're only getting screwed.




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