i am not oppressed.

I am in the process of coming full circle back to my activist roots. For a long time I struggled with the same crisis that every idealist faces at one point or another: what the hell can I do to make a difference?

I am facing the realization now that I am in the perfect point in history to be an individual making a realistic contribution to the issues at large. Micro business, grassroots efforts, and viral marketing are just some of the tools and methods at the disposal of those of us who have this crazy need to make a difference in the world. We are only going to become more and more connected, and understanding this reality and utilizing the potential of the current state of technology and the mindset of the people all around the world is not just a boon to big business. Initiatives need organization, for sure, but that organization doesn't always need to come through a larger footprint.

We are truly in a time where conviction is the best place to start. Realize the issues facing our society, understand the realistic impact you can make, and have the courage to step out and do something. We can harbor no illusions that the solutions to things like poverty and slavery and war will be simple. But we have to believe they are obtainable. If a crappy movie with a silly title can sweep the nation with a clever viral marketing scheme (you know who I'm talking about, Samuel L. Jackson, you snake you) the only issue standing in the way of the public at large being connected to the realities facing us all is communication. Which has always been an issue.

But if you're reading this, you right now are connected to a network that can do much more than provide you with the latest entertainment news or offer another forum for my ranting. The global worldview is real. When we can completely let go of the mindset that what goes on around the world has no affect on our lives because they're so far away and realize that we are connected, both through the "information highway" and the very real impact that every decision we make causes as citizens of a global superpower, we can make a difference. Not a difference initiated by "we who have more money and therefore know the answer to all of your problems", but rather a difference made by individuals who understand the effect their existence is really making on the rest of the world and using that existence intentionally.

20% of the world uses 80% of it's resources. I am part of that 20%. I am making a huge impact on the world, though it's not always in the form I would want, when I don't consciously consider the repercussions. The greatest American freedom is choice. If you don't see that as valuable, you don't understand the reality the rest of the world faces. The reality that many within our own borders face for reasons that could be surmounted. We are not facing an impossible situation.

I heard a horrifying statistic yesterday. 75% of American charitable giving is from the church, to the church. And America contributes a lot to the developing world in with its donations (if someone could find statistics for how we stack up in charitable giving to those outside our own country compared to the rest of the world, you'll get kudos from me).

My point with this really long post is this. If you believe you cannot make a real difference and that keeps you from giving your money, time, or whatever else you have to give, you're bullshitting yourself. The resources are there. The network is there. So where are the idealists who will step up and take the stage?

And income level is certainly no reason, either. Busy or not, poor or not, creative or not, it boils down to this: we are not starving. We are not slaves. We are not oppressed. And we do exist, and leave a footprint from that existence.

Make yours intentional.

plink.

i slobbered words in my sleep. sometimes i think i distract myself with my own soliloquy - i forgot you were listening the whole time, to my poem that didn't rhyme.

i hate boxy closed in trains of thought that litter my otherwise messy closet.

toes to the end of the blue line - i ignored the lettering proclaiming that i should stand there, and not here. i caught your eye as they stared us down, and we winked at our certain demise. when we blow this joint, let's take a lollipop break and stare at the clouds and pretend they are rain.

too much of this, so little the same... but i'll skip along the riverbank and we'll catch a train to the unknown place between the earth and the sky. yeah, the horizon, that's it. we'll fly with the wind as we stand on our train and then land where we are when we stop. my name will be fruitfly, you can be bat. all of our world won't know where we're at.

towards evening, i say we sit with a bottle of gin and wander our way home, while discussing the ins and outs of the science of art, and the art of life, and good cereal box reading. you'll put your hand in mine when we come to the river, and i'll look up at you in the moonlight, and as you lean down to tickle my sides i'll laugh at our prosaic-ness. you never knew i had a romantic side.

who would have thought, really, that we'd find ourselves here? i haven't written about death for nearly a year. or dying at least. for nearly a week. i still find myself in awe of the final sleep, watching and wondering at the breathing-in-and-out note that's sustained until one day, it fades, or ends with an out-of-key bang. which will it be? i'd say i'll take melody, and you fill in the rest, but i'll change my mind halfway through. let's just close our eyes and dance.

step one, step two. you're resting in my arms, and i enjoy that you cause my side to fall asleep. i held my tounge when the words came to whip the moment to threads... i was quiet when i decided i'd say "i just want to run, when you are too close". i even looked you in the eye when you reminded me that i love you.

i think it's progress. plink, plink.