On a Wednesday.
On a #WhereIAmNowWednesday.
Or a #WhyAmIWhereIAmNowWednesday.
Not your typical trip down memory-lane tirade, but a dig down the rabbit-hole and into tomorrow and next year and the next five minutes
where I am underfed, overfed, abandoned, and policed.
Where Big Brother watches me walk through the Wasteland, where I’m singing ‘tumbling in turmoil’, and where the Morlocks are my mind.
Moloch, their cousin, is your mind.
So you mind your manners now.
Where is the rock where you left your dreams? And where are the clouds where you left your hopes? And why should Thursday be better than Wednesday, when week-day wistfulness waits to be murdered by Monday?
Motivation was the biggest lie they told you.
That the gods of the Greats would grace your lives with their gaze,
Would wreak control and chaos in equal measures into your creative tidy-holes,
Would conjure a beautiful vision of Future and Prospertiy and Progress without dirtying their tunics to tarnish the Present.
That the Present is a gift, for the present is a curse to be overcome.
The gods of your ‘greats’ are mere ghosts of Moloch, waiting in the wings for you to shout
‘I am with you in Rockland’, to cue their glamourous and ethereal entrance.
So Shout ‘I am with you in Rockland’
and Show your demons that you are their Creator, Director of the powerful play in which they are your pawns and Decision is yours and in which Life is yours for the making.