You move from one moment to the next, driven by need to do, urged by must and in between, in between there is that moment that you are free but not free, drawn tight as you are in the embrace of your masters, the masters of your reality, the rule makers who govern what you say, what you do, what you think, what you dream.
You yearn to be free, you yearn for us all to be free but find blankness when you seek to create that world in your consciousness, so distant in our collective memory is that elusive creature, so far distant in time and space, so removed from now that you cannot imagine it, disbelieve the possibility of it, that place of peace and of good being done and of always having help when you need it and of always looking to help those that need help, that being what you fill your life with, that being what life is for.
That place exists, dream like and remote it faintly calls your name, nudges you in the night and awakens you from disturbing dreams, shouts the word destiny again and again that you can barely hear, rarely have the energy to draw into your consciousness and recognise as a friend and yet understand, in the deepest recesses of your existence, that this is what you have been waiting for, that this is what it is all for, that this call is for you and you must wake up, wake up, wake up and live the way you were created to live, shrug off the taut wire coils and heavy rusting iron chains of today and step into tomorrow, step into what should be, step into what must be for there your passion dwells, there your purpose in life, there your mission.
Reality wraps its false scenery around you, limiting your sight, filling your ears with lies and weasel words, making the world ugly and threatening when all the world wants to do is fill your mind with beauty, wrap you in its giving embrace, provide for you what you need. The world, your reality, has become your enemy rather than your friend. It has been made a place that drains you rather than replenishes and nourishes you. Its air, once clean and everything it should be to give you life and vitality is now filled with harm. That which you eat is poisoned. The water of life is soiled and dirtied. Your masters have cast you in a dungeon and feed you slops whilst they spoil the beauty of the world and render it uninhabitable, render it foul, please themselves with the despoiling of its life-giving wholesomeness.
And you, so far from the voice of your soul, so far from that which is right, trapped into being what is against your very nature, against your finer noble spirit, forced by this reality into being a slut bent backwards and demeaned for a dollar, made a coward that watches what it says, a moron that dare not ask a question, a yellow snake that cannot raise its head and say “enough”, distrusting everyone in your great family, frightened of standing for fear of standing alone.
So will we die, the scream un-screamed, the dream forgotten, the voice unheard, the destiny unfulfilled, head bowed muttering the mantra “There’s nothing I can do, there’s nothing I can do” whilst all around you, in the vast columns marching towards the end of life are billions of your kin, muttering the same untruth.
There is something you can do.
Hold up your head and look for the future you desire and walk, together, in that direction.
Leave everything behind you don’t need.
Help is at hand.
It's closer than you think.
It is in all of us.
It is love.
Olive xxx xxx xxx