I blush at recalling such simple, stupid ideas. As foolish as they are, they are worth risking for and dying for. But death. I fear death. Everyone does. God knows that cemeteries are no peaceful places. Not at all! But death is peaceful. It keeps one away from life’s froth, injustices and mockery. Naturally, dead men don’t think.
In this buffling rushy water. Blue as that little dry sky above. I think, I should make this one tough choice. Of death. Of life. Of eternity. Of right. Of wrong. Of good. Of bad. Sometimes, I think, on a balance beam, wrong weighs more than right. Same case with good versus bad. And on rare cases death does over life. It is weirdo to choose faulty.
But, who’ll choose death over life. Especially for the good of humanity. Of people. Of general populace? Some do. Many don’t. Those who do are patriots. These are men and women who strive to renovate the nation’s image. By pointing at the wrongs. Voicing out mistakes and putting to an end the raiding and pillaging acts.
Violence is not the way to the end of suffering. Neither does peace. But both must work concurrently. Violence must be paid with violence. In this I mean, economic exploitation, social degradation and political suffering, all these must be paid back with resistance. This is what is known as slap me this cheek, I slap yours policy. For good must be paid with good and bad with bad.
Suffering. Injustice. Exploitation. All these are not places people should settle on. This is not what was meant to be. By whom? Why afford to be okay with what is not okay? Men who allow suffering, injustices and exploitation to be enacted on them are kind of men who die foolish deaths as castrators of donkeys. For one kick is enough to send their balls rolling inside their stomachs.