Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Morale

Morality is the sweetest fruit of nature, being immoral is like the climate that sweeps out the nutrients nature needs to grow. Man wasn't made to distort another man's hopes and dreams, nor was he made to create differences to point and divide with. With the loss of morale we had lost our ability to taste the sweetness that nature has to provide. We haven't just started to feed on each other, rather we have have decided to feed on every tree that would possess the fertility to reproduce that sweet fruit, morale.

How often are we exposed to influences that make us glimpse inside our own shirts, to witness the lackings in our character? or are we influences to strip down others only to label them with an molten oozing iron with judgements that does not reconcile with their upbringing? What protocol gives man the right to differentiate one from another? What rubric gives a man the right to grade a man over another who is less fortunate? How often do you look in the mirror in order to cover that imperfection you find in that physique, and how often do you look in the mirror to praise the perfection that is present in front of you. With more biomollecular cells withholding traits in there allelic regions considered today as DNA that you could possibly write down in any novel, how must you know where perfection truly lies? Had the higher forces up above the heavens intended to have to plucked a single differentiating cell undergoing metamorphises to bring about the variation from your hands and your feet, had he (the almighty) intended to omit that single enzymatic reaction we only could solve in stoicheometry, would you even be able to console yourself after finding the ability to look at your pathological self in the same mirror.

The priveledge of free-will has lead us to poison the same nature leading to our demise, when we were only set out to better ourselves. We are told that we are civilized to the utmost degree in evolution, but when I see through me, I can't recognize myself being anywhere close to being better than the same sapien that had walked this planet milleniums ago for he atleast had used his hands, dug his dirt, hunted for his food with appreciation for mother earth and the higher being to help provide for him. He is who's lineage has lead to my perseverance on earth. Me and the society I see myself around today.

Pathetic are those that are influenced by a bunch of scriptures they read off a digitally provoked public outcry, stationed in every room that's constantly propagating you on what to wear, what to eat, what to visit, what to feed? How to live, How to breath? What is civil, and what is creed? What is caged and what is free?

Now think about that some flat pannel gadget posted right infront of adam when he first laid his soles on the soil of this planet. If the devil had it so easy to convince him (adam) of disobeying our lord over picking out an apple off that forbidden tree and forever being banished from the heavens. Think about the fruits that we are picking out from that misleading tree and preventing the real joyce of nature to sprout from the seed, morale, it is far from greed.

4 comments:

  1. Broken Pen============= June, 5, 2011

    When the lights go out
    When all the rivers are dry
    When all the lines are clear
    When all the years'll have gone by

    It will also be still too late
    It will yet have to become
    You will still have to wait
    They will all have already gone

    Where are those dreams
    Where is this talent
    Where can this pain go
    I have already known

    This pen can't write down my words, anymore
    These hands can't wait for me to be strong, anymore
    This mind can't wait till I sleep, anymore

    Where are the words that should be in my head
    Where are the colors that should be in my sight
    Where are the lines that should be on this paper

    Why is this pain so great
    Why does this pain exist
    Why does this pain hurt
    How much more will it inflict
    Until what dies will it persist

    When all the houses are burned
    And when the dark skies become grey
    When all the mirrors show nothing
    And when the end becomes today...

    By Salman Hamid

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  2. Did you actually write that Salman? That's pretty deep, and 'grey'.

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  3. I just wrote whatever came to my head. I wasn't in the best mood as you can guess. LoL

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  4. lol whats going on? why the low mood?

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