So here we are in 2023 at war with ourselves…again. For some bloody invisible border in our head. For the power/greed of the delirious mansion dwellers. The mansions and yachts will never be big enough. The wine glass is never tall enough. We must rise up peasants of the world and refuse to fight our masters wars. Break them, to break our chains. Let the money coffers go dry. Till the wine turns bitter.
We must starve! Is there another way? Fight you say! I hear you, but they control the bullets. Forge our own guns and load our own ammo. Charge the hill. Will we die on the battlefield? It can’t be won on the battlefield. They have bigger guns that we payed for. Slaves we are, I tell you!
Gandhi has been here before and won. He defeated the British. Broke the chains and died in a pool of blood. Blood always spills.
Fences must fall. Walls toppled.
There is no escape. Till the sun burns out, wars will always rage. Drink your wine if you have it. Drink from the muddy puddle on your knees, if that is all you have. Give bread to your brothers and sisters. We are one. Cry out in joy or in pain.
This is life on planet earth.