Writer's Block: Family Matters
I cant't believe that there is anything in this world that I couldn't count on anyone for.. but I digress.. life is fickle. the world is unkind. nature is a whore. what we are always left with though, is a common sensibility that if we lay dying out in a sunny street, our back and face full of shrapnel from a car bomb explosion, there will be help of some sort. it may be the hand of a stranger feeding us and clothing us, or simply pulling us into the shade to let us die in sweet and simple relaxation. it may come from a breeze that somehow clots the blood quicker and wipes the sweat from our brow a little.. so we can enjoy our last moments.. it also may be from ants or from flies, ensuring that our bodies decompose quickly and that we don't experience further mutilation. it may be from butterflies or from dragonflies that come to our resting place years from now and create a happy and colorful place for others to enjoy long after we are gone. it may be rain that appears out of now where, and cleanses the sky.. cleanses the wounds, and makes an apparent atrocity seem like a fruitful obligation. in all things, gestures are what we perceive them to be. and this is what my family would do for me.