the birds woke me up this morning.
in a mid morning daze
from a long night
needing to rest well through the dawn,
they woke me
and were adamant about keeping me that way.
trying to gather my thoughts
as i take myself out the door,
words like cars barely getting through the gate.
‘fuck’ slides through no problem
with its inborn confidence
but the word morning
seems to get cut off at the ‘m’
forcing me to shovel it up
from this early traffic jam.
all the other words are carrying out
but if I try to stop and look at them
they fold back on themselves
and i have to read them backwards
as i drive by
and carry it all around the corner.
She saw me then
and I felt ashamed.
Sorry for my absence lately, I simply haven’t found anything in my scattered writings that have motivated me to post lately. Well, here goes getting back into the swing of things. A sincere thank you to those who have been following me still. 🙂 -JSCK
It has been my belief for years that people are animals, just like any other, no better and even often worse. Inside everyone and every living thing is the same set of internal drives- to live, to eat, to breathe, and to breed. Occasionally I will have problems with the fact that I am a carnivore, but I do it because I see myself as such- just another carnivore, just another animal who undoubtedly would eat meat in any other scenario. But I have made several conscious, philosophic determinations about this practice and how it relates to me; I see myself as an animal, but I refuse to glorify myself- I refuse to fancy myself as some grandiose lion draped in the regality and majesty of a kill. I see myself as I am in this system: a filthy vulture. I see myself as some carrion bird, pilfering and profiting of some efforts made by persons unattached to me.
People often fail to recognize what and where their food comes from, and that creates problems. This is how shock campaigns for vegetarianism work, in my opinion. They take advantage of kids who never noticed the similarities between that little feathered animal that goes ‘cluck’ and the breaded and fried medallions that show up in their happy meal. So when they see the cute chickens being killed in the black and white films, they recoil. When these kids look at some picturesquely cute photograph of a baby calf and are asked why they would kill it, they are confused. There are always two problems with this, the disillusionment that is forced on the unsuspecting children, and the illusion that is allowed to present itself in the first place.