These thoughts hit the paper like a brick through a window.
I believe in peace. I believe in compassion. I believe in understanding and respect. I believe in love. But I'm not sure if that is enough anymore. Love is strong but it seems as though greed is stronger. The drive to profit is destroying the need to co-exist. So now what do I do? Now that I have shaken the foundation of my being, will my beliefs still stand? Or will they crumble to the ground just like this machine in my dreams? Do I still believe that the world can be saved by love alone? And if I don't will I be an ideologue and just keep loving or will I break a window and let the caffeinated consumers know that I've changed my mind? What if my bleeding heart isn't enough to make the world beautiful? Will I aim my brick at the face of a cop? And will I someday give up and stop thinking that I can use the courts of the system to fix it? Will I understand that the carte blanche has been given? Taken? Abused? In the form of a badge it protects all who wear it. Will I sit and watch or will I murder one back? Has there ever been a peaceful revolution before? I can't think of one. If they're killing now, imagine if we rose up. And if it started, who would win? I know our death toll would be higher. But there are more of us. And we believe in something that's higher than profit, higher than career. We believe in peace. We believe in compassion. We believe in understanding and respect. We believe in love. And even if that isn't enough, it's part of it. Even if that isn't enough, we've got a brick in each hand, and if we run out before we're through, we'll tear the bricks from the foundations of the buildings we're throwing them at and we'll watch them crumble to the ground. You can take away our freedom, you didn't give it to us in the first place. You can take away our bricks too. But you can never take away our peace, compassions, understanding, respect, or love. You can never take away our spirit, but if you break it we'll pick up the broken shards and use them to stab you where your shriveled black heart once was. And then we'll sing about it, because we are not the dead. Your lack of music and art is your coffin and we're going to seal it shut with the nails you provided. Don't try to say that you have music. What you think is music is merely a product. The same greed and drive to profit that you use to destroy us has taken away your music and your art and your self-expression and sucked your corpse dry. Your art consists of logos, your music is jingles, your poetry is taglines. All created to sell. And your blindfolds have been replaced by gold coins and the boatman thanks you. So your souls are gone but your bodies remain. You've got your money and power, but they won’t last. We've got our bricks and our love, and even though the bricks might shatter as they kiss your lips, our love will still be here long after you're gone.