Marks lingered on her body, around her neck and across her arms, his marks. Outside rain hits the concrete and drips down the window pane, the wind wails. Dark shadows creep across the walls, the echoing silence thunders loudly. The memories were slipping through her grasp like water. Was she to see his blue eyes filled with sunlight again? Or the way he smiled, dimples forming across his rugged face, was she going to miss that?
For who does she have? No family, nor many friends… Apart from her two papillons, with their hearts as expansive as oceans, she was alone.
To others she was the adventurer, the philosopher, the dreamer, the truth seeker. Though they never wanted to get too close it seemed.
She is the nomad, the hermit, the artist, the seductress, the child, the scared, the hurt, the lonely, the passionate, the strong, the universe and the stars.
“Kindness and compassion towards all living things is a mark of a civilized society. Conversely, cruelty, whether it is directed against human beings or against animals, is not the exclusive province of any one culture or community of people. ”
This is not going to be like my other posts, there are no intricate sentences weaving dreamlike thoughts of life, this post just is.
I have always held the belief that a society should be judged on how they treat their innocents, children and animals, two beings almost completely at our mercy – physically as well as many times mentally, spiritually and emotionally.
Lately, more and more cases of child abuse, rape and murder have been reported, and the number of cases of sick animal abuse and exploitation have shot up. Is our society rotting from the core? What can be done to stop, or at least help? Why is this happening?
The following pictures and videos may disturb you, I know they disturb me. Though, this is the truth of animal abuse. This cannot be sugar coated, this is a cancer of our society that must be cut out. (I focus on animal abuse mainly in the post simply for the fact animals strongly resonate with my heart)
Cicadas screech in the humid air, across the horizon the city brushes the heavens, in the corner of my room bags sit, half packed. The setting sun filters through the silk drapes, illuminating the room in its life. I gaze at the bags, they are in some ways my safety net. All my belongings can fit in to them, easily dragged behind me through the sprawling airports across the globe.
Peace, in the sense of the absence of war, is of little value to someone who is dying of hunger or cold. It will not remove the pain of torture inflicted on a prisoner of conscience. It does not comfort those who have lost their loved ones in floods caused by senseless deforestation in a neighboring country. Peace can only last where human rights are respected, where people are fed, and where individuals and nations are free. – The XIVth Dalai Lama
I hold in my hand a new book, at the back of the crowded bus I secretively sniff the pages as the hot evening sun filters through the windows and the faint moon patiently waits in the cloudless sky. This moment in time now carved into my past along with the countless other daily emotions I experience.
In my 18 years of life, from concious memory – I remember no time without terrorists, wars, bombings, conflicts, tears, pain and immense global suffering. At this very second I feel so far removed from it all, walking through the humid air of the evening, yet it is all around me. From the violence and sufferings that has happened in my own life, I have learned if not one thing; this too shall pass.
Change is ever present and all around us, it is the only constant and inevitable cycle.
To change something on such a global spectrum will take time, yet ticking time goes by so fast. Not just time, it will also take people to wake up, to stand up and and to speak the truth – and it will probably not be said through words.
“The Greek word for “return” is nostos. Algos means “suffering.” So nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return.” – Milan Kundera
As the city lights glimmer a mosaic of stars scatter across the dark sky, rain hits the pavements whilst people take cover under umbrellas and soggy newspapers. The moon is almost full and its hypnotic energy seduces the bustling streets.
My heels pound against the wet cobblestone road, my eyes follow passing travellers, I search for the rich smell of coffee and the meaning behind all that is life.
Some nights the collective force of every person seems to haunt the nights sky, a lighting bolt of energy pulsing through my veins, holding a nostalgic memory or a feeling that is universal. I yearn to return to wherever it is where I am from, no matter what country or city my body wonders, I yearn for something just slightly out of reach.
Thunder jolts me back to the physical reality, people jump with fright and smile, the drizzling rain continues.