Whether destined or wrought by design, this dismay cannot continue. The ever-reaching grasp of disdain and animosity must not remain, for if nothing else it promotes and provokes the rot inside, both solo and collectively, even when the illusion of justified opposition appears. But, is that not the way it has always been, for us immemorial, and such? And our defiance to the tides is not doubted in why as much as that other eternal itch. You know the one. We must, of course, but- how?

Or maybe it’s just me. Perhaps my madness is to deny the otherwise satisfactory life for an ambition and altruism that exists nary beyond the imagination, if even that far.

For a certainty, awaiting some clarity to arrive as a charitable clairvoyance cannot be the scheme in earnest. As is so often occurring, over resolute sureness only assures our insecurities. Upon our own identities reflected at minimum, even if no others fall fool to such standings.

Perhaps this is just another posture of my passing privilege as that continues to shrivel by the will of the monsters among us, and their associates, known and ignored. The folly of fighting our isolations and contrived cultural prescriptions, all the while the growth of festering toxic cynicisms expand.

It isn’t that I doubt the maliciousness out there exists in plenty, but the foresight of some of the larger proposed conspiracies seem to trend towards fantasy. That insidious impulses all abound are more simplistic than the comic books would have us believe. Plans not pondered beyond a decade, never mind a century. For an intelligent enough awareness, even of a vastly evil intent would have to see a lack of sustainability on the paths tread so commonly in this age. Just greed, gratification and others of that genre- no master plan thought out beyond the next profit margin. A mass of megalomania ministered by miniscule minds. Cunning, maybe, but not some hyper intelligentsia. Just a base but unrelenting selfishness subduing the status and strength of selflessness.

Yet, as cruel and calloused as I know this world so often is- benevolence and beauty keep finding their ways to emerge. Even for but a few moments, a glimmer and glance here and there and still, it is there. For whatever success the superficial seem to keep having, the hope of the honest folk has not yet been entirely destroyed, even in all the attempts to diminish. Maybe not widespread as the false titans and idols, but I assure you- your neighbors still make art, make music, make meaning, even without or sometimes, in spite of the growing disparity of the odds. Or so I must believe, lest the weekly act grow to be contained entirely in insanity.

And whether it is the methods of this age, or my own growing age within the modern- the hard-fought fights are not yet without at least the embers of fury. But how to beat it hounds at my soul, because join the opposition, I will not. Might even be that I cannot abandon these causes for the ones that could gain more gerrymandered greatness, no matter how helpless the hold out of hope feels.

And the most important factor in this ever-going quest of the fool is this- no matter how often we can feel alone in attempt to attain good, we are not. Even with little to no idea on how to compete the widespread misanthropic misadventures, vague and greater sense of human unification has yet to fade. And while the answer key to the current trials is far from my line of sight, knowing that more often than not even the average person feels the inkling of an idea along similar sorts of lines is just the smallest amount of enough to keep up at the attempt.

Or so I hope, and if you are here with me now among these words- a relative of my hope must find a home in you, as well. What to do with it, well, that we must keep working at, knowing that failure is at least a regular part of that equation. But it is still there, even with its unknown and inexplicable origins. So I’ll help you along, as best I can. And even if I appear to refuse to request it, I trust that you might be willing to help along with me.

But for this evening, this mind grows in temporary weariness. There are plans and efforts set to invoke and inspire such feelings, even if the currently remain in a near total lack of clarity. So, rambling on will fade from this date upon the calendar. When, or I suppose if this reaches you, it might be at the dawning of the next day. So, if you need, this hand reaches out. And I’ll keep an eye out and a modest enough heart for those hands that reach out for me.