Melancholy & Missing Lighters

 When you're young, you're certain you'll grow wings and fly, Because you're still young, you're sure it'll be different this time, But you're older and still human, feet stuck to the ground and all you ask is 'why?' The world is crumbling, and you cannot escape the relentless roll of the die, Love has brought you further down, and not a single day passes by, That you don't regret not trying harder to risk it all to fly. 

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere From the sun and moon You can never hide Out here I'm so aware Of your memory  Haunting this train ride -- Time passes by and another day's gone, Peeking out in the night from my train car, Above, passing by, is every star, I ask if they seen you, How you've been,  So many reasons, I can't begin, It just feels wrong to be alive, When you were the ones that had to say goodbye. Now where, where did you go? You've left me here, Confused and alone. We were supposed to speak again, I was on my way to you, my friend, Now who can take the place you left? -- Another one leaves the circle smaller, Peeking out in the night from my train car, Above, passing by, is every star, I ask if they seen you, How you've been, So many reasons, I can't begin, It just feels wrong to be alive, When you were the ones that had to say goodbye.

 Lying in the grass and under a shady tree, Where thistle and burdock grow so green  I left a message inside these bones That the world from you still grows. Lying in the grass and under the blue sky, Where the story does not end with mine, I left a message inside these bones That the world from you still grows. Lying in the grass and under a setting sun, Another new day is always sure to come, Even if it's not quite what you know, A world from you will surely grow.

  I've been procrastinating. Not only in writing this post, but also in reflecting. This past August tenth marked one year since Brutter's death. I remember going to sleep that night wondering if my body somehow would relive the event. Waking up suddenly just as the sky was beginning to light up. The burst of adrenaline sending me to my feet running. The denial. The confusion. The desperation. The grief. Sending shockwaves through every part of my body. However, I woke up with ease just as every morning. It was around the same time, though, maybe a little later. At the time, we were in a patch of woods near Buffalo, New York. It was one of the first places I'd taken Brutter when she'd hopped her first few trains. It had been spring at that time. The may apples had just started popping up. The trees were still bare. I can recall her eagerness to explore the woods. Her nose constantly upturned, drinking in the new scents. Her tiny form scurrying up fallen trees. Her tail...

How easy it is to kill, So simple to destroy- The Earth, The Water, The hearts of humankind. How easy it is to hurt, So simple to break- The hope, The trust, The bond between you and I. Yet you care not For any plea Nor heartfelt cry, Not without an attached Bargain and dollar sign. The people's pain Fuels your greed, Our isolation Leaves you satisfied And waiting for us to die. Will the earth be yours then? Will you know true love then? Will peace never leave you then? When there is no more to spend.

Shiverin' spring blues thaw into summer gold, You're too far gone for me to ever hold, But never will I ever forget the day When I left goldenrod on your grave.   And if I could pray for anything at all, I'd pray I can join you when summer turns to fall.

 Who is my audience? That, I do not know. Who is my audience? What have I to show? Who is my audience? Who am I trying to reach? Who is my audience? Have I any words to teach? Who is my audience? Could it be the people I've met, or the ones I've not known yet? Who is my audience? Are my words for change, or for those with their minds all set? To whom am I writing for? And would they ask for more? Can not it be I for whom I sing, dance, and write?

(Source) Light the smudge, breathe deep, from this sacred tobacco, cedar, sweeatgrass, and sage, burn all jealousy and hatred from this earth. O sacred smoke, make the world and us whole again; we women, this is what we do: sew and smudge, make the ugly beautiful.  --" Mending the Violence of Men " aria, Li Keur: Riel's Heart of the North, by S.M. Steele Extracted from: Porter, Michelle. A Grandmother Begins the Story. Chapel Hill, Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 2023.

Apparently, The Israeli Foreign Ministry is reducing the Freedom Flotilla Coalition's Madleen to nothing more than a publicity stunt. I'm not delving into the whole interception and kidnapping for this. There are plenty of articles discussing it. I'll link some of them at the end if you need to be caught up. But we already know that yes, Thunberg being a part of the Madleen's voyage was likely intended to garner more media attention. If you're just now hearing about the Freedom Flotilla Coalition, they are not something new. They were formed in 2010 in order to continue the work of the Free Gaza Movement which had been sending ships of humanitarian aide since 2008. Around the first five missions, all in 2008, had been successful. But then December of 2008, Israel began interfering with these missions. Ten missions, including the Madleen, have been unsuccessful due to being attacked, intercepted, or threatened with attack. The attack on the Mavi Marmara in 2010 is ...

  "I'm leaving this country." As a so-called American, that's a statement I've often heard growing up and hear even more now in light of the recent political climate. I myself had grown up wishing to move to a different country. I fantasized about faraway lands cloaked in mist and mystery to me. Maybe somewhere in Europe. Maybe the British Isles. Maybe Russia. But for the entirety of my teenage existence, my heart had been set on South Korea. I studied hard, planning on applying to a Korean University. I continued to study, even after I dropped out of highschool. I continued to study, even as I failed multiple job interviews and realized it would take years of tirelessly working to maybe meet the required minimum of $15,000 in my bank account. I continued to study, even when I ran away from home and started living on the streets. I haven't studied since a traumatic incident last August. But even before then, I was slowly moving my attention towards o...