Sometimes artists search for inspiration and other times inspiration searches and finds them. Some artists are tuned into the cosmos like it has the frequencies of a radio. Other artists blindly walk into zones of events created by the trillions of equations manifesting as our reality.
I awake on this hot July Sunday morning early as usual for me. Retirement has not removed the habit of rising with the sun. It seems that after nearly 50 years, the routine of going to work has been burned into my hide like a brand on the side of a Texas Longhorn.
I am jolted into the world of the living; happy to be leaving the night of torture that my dreams have put me through. I am thankful to see the light of the sun starting to appear on the blinds of a nearby window.
My entire Saturday was filled with thoughts and conversations with Pure Bloods around the world about the massive Red Pilling of the vaccinated. With Tucker Carlson bringing the vaccine’s efficacy and potential for harm into the mainstream narrative, I knew that soon the vaccinated would begin to know the truth.
I could almost feel an enormous hush descend upon the world. I was excited that it was finally over… that they soon all would know the truth. But then anxiety began to grow inside me, as I realized that what I had written about so many months ago might be starting. Was the Mass Hysteria of the Vaccinated about to begin?
With newborn like calf legs supporting a 71-year-old half asleep body, I lean on my kitchen counter to start my coffee pot. In the dim morning light, a fan-driven piece of dust moves across the counter next to my mom’s antique candy dish and its current mountain of sweet delights.
But the dust is not dust I soon discover. This dust has power of its own and begins to weakly circle my candy dish like it is drawing circles around it. It’s a tiny moth… the same tiny moth that I have tried to capture and set free for days now. “Let me get you, let me get you, let me get you” as I cup my hands to capture him. He finally gives up and I gently grasp his wings with my fingers knowing that I was a clumsy giant who could cripple his wings with the slightest wrong move.
6:05 am Sunday, July 23 in the Year of Our Lord 2022, a weary half asleep old man opens his back door and releases a tiny moth into the morning air. He smiles and tells the moth as it flies off, “You’re free, now go change the world for me”.
Changing the World One Good Deed at a Time
The only place where I can get away from this vax and upcoming economic disaster is when I sleep. The anger about the way vaxed people where cheering all the totalitarian measures of the last year does come up, but in the end
1) We were all lied to...
2) We are flawed human beings
And I feel real bad for everyone who got duped into this and it makes me sad that people have died from this and are being hurt by this stuff and this will continue to happen in the future...
Not exactly sure why I like this piece, but I do! Perhaps it’s my own inner yearnings for knowledge, peace and kindness?
I’m old too and derive great pleasure from simple things in this (increasingly rotten) world.