nocturnal canvas of silence

What is not broadly understood by almost everyone? The war on Iraq? Climate change? All of it has had no impact on public behaviour what so ever. It's ultimately the product of American hegomony. Respone is met with a strange, distant smile and avert eyes. Mind reels, maybe said with, I wonder what I should eat for dinner tonight? David Bowie...phhhft what kind of man woman is he? Say, sex sure would be nice right about now. Eyes can be read of renewal wrapped in distance, undone, unfurled in a story or a kiss. Eyes speak more honestly than one would ever dare for lack of language. So they enjoy themselves. Who am I to spoil their fun? With this moral dissonance deafening. The battle lines drawn, and the major question all over the country, a coalition of homeowners, anarchists, and internationalists are mustering to fight the future.

Not all these people entirely concerned… merely until their homes are due to be bulldozed for a new road way. More and more of us will never get a good night’s sleep again. But anyone who has joined a broad-based coalition understands the power of this compound of idealism and dogged self-interest.

Not so long ago, we lived in a world that the media regularly told us was being connected in ever more complex ways -- think of all that reporting on globalization in the 1990s. But for the last several years, "just disconnect" might have been the reigning news motto. If you read about the Iraq War, you get Iraq, and generally little else. No Turkey, no Israel, few Syrians, no Saudis, nor Egyptians. Reports on our little Afghan war give you Afghanistan, but certainly nothing about the fighters that, according to Syed Saleesurgent Taliban, based in Pakistani border areas, has been sending to Iraq for training in the new ways of guerrilla warfare. (Think: IEDs and car bombs.) You would never know from stories in the American press that Iran bordered Afghanistan, or that both India and Russia have complex interests and connections to this worldly oil depot. Why exactly this has been so, I leave others to analyze. It has left our major papers strangely demobilized when it comes to offering us a picture of our world and so in an unequal contest with the Bush administration is hard to deny.

Every morning I awake with a start to the chatter of demons, milling in the corridors. I wake to the sight of the restless boy sweating profusely through his thin smile covering the emptiness inside. It peers in from behind masks of the dead in wake. The desperate color that in it's own image... wants to paint the world and render it a endless sea of numbing gray.

With every mile put behind, I feel as though I draw nearer to a destination to which no one should ever aspire. The night is deep. I cross check my watch. I see that the hours have surrendered their slavish attachment to the ghost of the day gone by, and have brought me to the brink.

Words are enough to distract. In company, speaking words is comforting in a reassuring manner. They stand up for a while... perhaps to give some fresh air. But there is an ulterior motive. There always is.

I am a plain and simple man. Everyone is to each their own. In any case, a train is a train, carting people off to various destinations. There will be confusion as to why a person gets off or on. I haven’t the slightest idea of those who have crossed me are, or how they would be identified. After much discussion, it was suggested to the voice fraught with tenderness of fading innocence in tears--the onset of shame--perhaps it is recognized from nightmares.

Neither debated the point, rather, they'd remained speculatively silent.