We took our inspiration from mother nature, how she packaged fruit in peel. In time we learned how to literally grow packaging around our products. They smelled great and the peel had so many uses.
He sighed and looked at her with those blue eyes touched by storm clouds. She had never seen any emotion in them other than contempt. But now they embraced the wind. A brief gust before returning to a calm sea.
Isn’t it funny, that if I had made a different decision I wouldn’t be here now? If I had put a different answer on that sheet, my fate would’ve been written in different ink. Because if I was sat here in a different universe, without you by my side, I would have never become complete.
The price of capitalism (of any money-nexus world) is child trafficking, prostitution, drug trafficking, human organ sales, factory slave labour and the destruction of earth's natural environment... Who is really paying for this token-based trade system? What are they paying with? What does it cost them? Who is willing to shine lights in the darkest of places of our world and take the real action required to stop it? We can provide food and shelter for free - stop parents selling children into slavery... we can stop buying products made by child slaves - those are good places to start, yet from its start capitalism required a large pool of slaves, always the most vulnerable in society, those with the fewest champions. So champions stand up, shine lights, be heard. The world has enough food and real change is as simple as sharing and caring, it always was.
From fourteen he worked in a factory that made bangles. Fifteen hours a day of toil, one meal at midnight, then a few hours of sleep before beginning once more. No daylight. No love. No windows. No sense of the weeks nor months that passed. He'd left home with the heart of a hero, as a boy who wanted to feed his family, and here he lived in a coffin, coughing, a trafficked child. He worked machines, poured metal, produced pretty things for petty prices. How is it that items that cost so much soul are sold for so few cents?
When you cuss, when you appeal to negativity or ask for revenge, when you truly mean for cruel things to happen to others, the demon spirits will hear that you because your tone is their "dial tone," their "phone number." And once you utter these words with real intent it is a spell, a prayer to the devil, and for any way they answer it you then owe them... and they always demand payment with interest. So no matter how desperate the moment, always ask heaven for help, always dial with the right tone, with love, hope and reverence for our divine creator.
If you believe in nations having armed forces, if you believe in the population funding those armies, if you believe that it is alright for soldiers to volunteer for jobs in which they risk death to protect others - you believe in socialism. It would, however, be awesome, if we could all take the next step together and believe in the kind of socialism that brings population health, great educational standards and general wellness. Because to only focus on the "death" side of the equation and not the "life" side of the equation, as any mathematician or science (especially neuroscience) student will tell you, will lead to the sort of obvious imbalances the world is facing.
She's only five years old and unaffected by death. A little innocent light with so much joy. But that will soon change and I hate it.
"Hey, why are they burying Aunty Carla? She can't bake those yummy cookies in the ground! Stop!" she screams. The people who weren't already crying allowed tears to drip down their faces. "Stop it!" She screams, tears streaming down her face.
Unexpectedly, Levi bends down and hugs Dina. "Dina, she's going to sleep." Levi whispers, "Don't be so loud or you'll wake her." Dina cuddles Levi and wails. He strokes her hair and her back lovingly. That just overpowers me. I start crying loudly causing a chain reaction in the small group. Soon everyone who loved Carla are sobbing uncontrollably.
I walk up to the makeshift stage and begin my little speech, "Mam was kind and didn't hesitate to help someone in need. Her helpful spirit got her in trouble a few times but I don't think she ever regretted it. I-"I pause clearing my throat from the tears, "I won't ever let her out my heart, she will stay in here in peace. I love you, Mam." I place my hand on my heart. AOT SALUTE. My tears soaking the clothes I'm wearing.
"Don't cry Eren! Aunty Carla is just asleep," she cries trying to make me happier. I give her a sad smile and nod while walking off the 'stage'.
Slowly her coffin gets lowered into the hole. The closest relatives take turns with the spade, covering her inch by inch with dirt.
Bye Mam. I will miss you...
Stay with me for every moment of my life. May my every breath be linked to yours. At first, I wasn't so sure, but when difficult times came, I understood our love. Our connection. Now that you've come, lemme tell you one thing, as you're near me....
May I lean my head against your chest, and keep listening to my name beating in your heart. I have written the will of my life in your name. I just want to be with you for life. Stay with me.
Let me draw a line using your fingers, in the sky. Half's yours, half's mine; we both will be the richest in the whole world, with our love. Being distant from you is not my forte, so let us go for a world tour together. You'll see the wonders of the world, and I'll see the wonder of my world- 'YOU'.
Dehumanisation is the essential first step to genocide, and given the brutal histories of every ethnicity, we must guard against this as if our eternal souls depend on it. And this is what Nazi ideology is. The primitive brain wants to engage in slaughter for personal gain of resources and power, the higher brain (lacking in sufficient empathy to stop it) creates the most plausible sounding rationale for the genocide to "flip the script" and make the intended victims both appear to deserve their own murders. In Nazi ideology this went to the level of false science to dehumanise their victims and was presented as Eugenics.
Bottle in the Sea
To Whomever Receives This Bottle:
I never expected that I'd be lost and forgotten to the world. I suppose I write this hoping that perhaps you will remember this note sometime after you finish reading it, and in that way my memory lives on. Somehow that's enough. Now listen closely, if you've found this bottle it means that even though it has been tossed to and fro by the waves, perhaps pulled by the undertow and cracked against the rocky reef, it still found you. With that being said, life may break you, but know you are too strong to shatter. Your journey is your own. Do not be afraid if it's perilous. Take heart. Face your worries for they will be too afraid to face you. Ride the currents, do not let them control you. Listen to your heart for it is more than just a beat. The one you seek will find you when you least expect it, and they will give back what your journey has taken away. Your boat, your guide: you chart your course, not anyone else. Take responsibility for your faults, but do not apologize for them: they are what make you human. Dwell not on your mistakes, because your mistakes will sail you on the greatest adventures.
I never experienced grief this bad before. It all started when I lost my mother, my world and my hero. It sneaked up on me quietly and took me under its arms in an instant. Every memory played like a song in my head, repeating itself for what seemed like forever. I was lost mostly because I had lost a big part of me. I couldn't get that part back and I wanted it so bad as my life depended on it but it was all gone, vanished in thin air. I can't say it got better but it did get easier. At first, I thought grief was something bad that takes you ten feet under but soon I learned that it was just the price we had to pay for loving someone.