I remember when I was first put in this box, the stench. Now just a subtle burning in my nostrils, but I remember that first moment well, the acrid smell that went with last light. Though there is a little light, a slim dagger crease where the lid does not quite seal. So I can tell when day and night turns. But I lost count of the days. Now I just cling to my mind, try to keep it tethered to me. My stomach is in a constant cramp, I can feel every single one of my joints throbbing. I thought determination could conquer all, I could heave the lid open, yet here I remain. This box is stronger than I. Stronger than all those before me.
Religion, the bane of peace for many minds. The religious pointing out the differences in us, declaring the differences illegal and to be snuffed.
Yet at school, in our mini societies I remember the same, yet no religion was referenced in my school when the red haired kid was bullied, nor was scripture quoted when I was bullied for simply being shy and fey. Just the offence at difference. In a religionless world there would still be them, there would still be us. We would still have those whose ancient tribal mentality bubbled high in their psyche. The ones who see their own circle as us, to be defended against them. This is not religion, this is our own tribal nature. Perhaps even, the peaceful are missing their fighting instinct.. are faulty for being awash with empathy. Even devils advocate would call that folly. We strive for better, for peace. Regardless if it is a flaw in our fighting soul..
I looked for joy in possessions, but found joy only in the splinter between buying and bought. In sex joy resides, yet after the chemicals subside joy falls gently away. In drugs of all kinds the joy is sought, yet the ride is short and fraught, with barbs of poisonous effect.
So I paused and watched within. I found my life’s electricity my most reliable joy, with me till my end.
Should this page bear colour as recommended, or should it remain sparsely splendid?