It's tough to care about anything. When the spirit cares, resources are used and depleted until the care is fulfilled. Why do I care so much? Life. Business. Performance, goals, and opportunity. Desire? Drive? There is no right and wrong. There simply is and isn't. Everything else is layers. Noise. We are so small in the sum total of things. Why care about the welfare of others? Is that really what it is? Or, is it the welfare of the self?
Is it possible to rewrite the genetic code? Or, does trash always remain trash? Is it written in the start? Can crooked lines be made straight? Doomed from birth?
Does race really have something to do with it? Age old question. A poor black man becoming the white man's strong black man. A learned man. He can't manage his affairs. He drinks it away. It was predetermined. How dare he rally against the Gods. Can he join the white man's world? He writes with so much anger and sadness. Life is death. The others have figured it out. His very soul doesn't even belong to him He is but a cast of broken pieces.
Broken desires and broken dreams.
As if a sculptor thrashed his perfect piece against a wall, and realized he made a mistake.
Learned? Learned in what? How to sale? How to plead? How to beg? How to say I'm sorry, but I'm not good enough yet for your viewing. Allow me more time to make myself nothing.
Use them as a slave. Give you whatever you want. Then, tame him with religion. Show em' how to cut his flesh off as a spirit that doesn't belong to him. Punish him for his desire to follow his desires. Punish him good.
What is it he hears in the stars? What is it he sees in the tempo?
What is is he hears in the design? What is it he feels in the mountains? In the streams? In the storms? What is it in that window? Where are those leaves going? What is on his senses? What does he hate him? Why does his heart flutter? There's nothing in it. Where is his God? What does he see? Why is she there?
The ball of yarn is always pulled from afar.
That demon has seen him for a long time.
The angel was scared.
What does he see? Where does he hear? Who does he grow. There's nothing. There's no way to live. There's no grow. No rule. No performance. No bondage. No priority. No horror. No IOU. No UOMe. No payback. No fear. No failure. No right. No wrong. No acceptance. He's not special. She isn't either.
It says you mastered it. You figured it out. You got it.
Show him how to do it. Show him how to do it. Show him how to do it. He's a little body. Show him how the universe works. Who makes the rules. Gimme the rules.