I keep pretending that there is life still in this box…. when there just isn’t.

I wanted peace; I got it. I wanted quiet; I got it. I wanted no drama, no fighting, no angry letters, no manipulation of words, no crushing of minds or spirits, no imposition of hierarchy. I wanted room to breathe, to be me, to wake to softness and stability, to relax into open spaces and mental vacations. I didn’t want someone to speak through me; I wanted my own words and my own voice.  I have received all these things… with a heavy sacrifice that they will never understand.

They are not strong individuals. They are only strong when working others. They need the attention, the reverence or fear. They need their name to be known and spoken, passed on to others. They need others to do the work for them at times. They need discussion and opposition to discover themselves. They need ambiguity and questions to hide behind. They will never be wrong; they will always be justified in everything they do… especially when they have minions to agree with them. The minions must agree with their motives and actions, as the minions are their conscience.

A rebel is cast out or thrown to the wolves depending on the infraction. The rebel can manage. The rebel is one individual that is stronger than the collective. You keep your Self, your identitiy, love, essence, truth, soul… you walk alone.