War is a force that gives us meaning

Will you miss the days of the occupation?

I know *I* surely will. You see, it was a time when everything - at least on *our* side of the social equation - was pure and just and right. And I could see the gleaming-white outlines of a most glorious future, as it was set against the blackest-of-black circumstance of oppression. The in's and the out's of the world were *so* clear to me that I could have navigated through a sea of them with my eyes closed and my sails at half-mast. In this way, our long-lost and deep-sea(ded) fortunes were just around the corner (yet still, as always, out of reach).

Yes! Oh-my-god, it hurts just to think about it; why can't we go back?:

The rear seats of the dusty white sedan were tight with passionate bodies (some bloodied), and in such a grimy and restrictive space - physically AND philosophically - instinct kicks in more powerfully than you've ever known. The primal rush is on, and, as a result, I will push you, and I will punch you; my lust for overpowering my wicked opponent - again, you - is insatiable. The cameras were on (they are always on these days) during this otherwise hidden fracas, so I thrust a peace-sign through an open window for the benefit of posterity; the world has a right to know how we toil for legitimacy of cause (and for effect).

I look back, and while it didn't occur to me at the time (there is no room for real-time reflection when blood is boiling), I know it now, and I will know it forevermore: I am defined by who I am not. OH, oh-I-know-it from the top of my manic crown, down to the bottom of my boots (quaking), so it's worth saying again: I am defined by who I am NOT.

So here, in this time and place of struggle.. of *personal* struggle, I am surrounded by those who would restrain me, by those who would keep me here in this purgatory of political engagement until the end of our republic (if such a time hasn't arrived already). And this, THIS.. IS.. UNACCEPTABLE!

My conscience is clear;
There is no other way.
I am destined for a life of
(Pure) action and certitude,
Onwards and onwards..

We will march ourselves, willingly, into a great white light - as the ultimate expression of our hope for a better life; never mind the violence required - it is besides the point (of execution). Yes, it is an act of *love* and the world will understand from where it rose up in due time; it *must* understand! And as such, my path was (and is) preordained.. and unequivocal in constitution: escape by any means necessary. I cannot be held from my date with destiny.

Or, at least, that is how I felt at the time; years have passed "in peace".

Life now, as order is restored in town and country (or so we're told), doesn't seem to have the same urgency as before, and the crisp lines of purpose have bled into a gray mess as I go about my daily - and frighteningly mundane - business. And in such an environment, how can we find solid direction (for living) again? During the uprising, I was a virtuous and enthusiastic mechanism for revolution: things needed to change - we *all* knew it; and I was there to be part this brave new world order. This much was obvious and, again, this much was pure and just and right. Let me fade into nostalgia one last time..

The mise en scène was set as such; I knew my part, and I did not - I could not! - doubt the director for a moment. It did not even matter that I did not know who was running the shadowy production; the show must go on! My god, I will always believe in the myth of war and in the myth of success (through violence); what else do we have to believe in?

I wish I was the first one to say it because it's so true: we are a people lost; and war is a force that gives us meaning. It's obviously true as I look back through wistful gaze into the past, and I *know* it will continue to be true forward into eternity. God help us as we wish, again, for days so strong, so horrible.. and so wonderful.