There’s this girl I know. She is of average height, weight, employment status, blah blah blah. But there’s something that separates her from everyone in the room with you right now, and if you’re alone reading this, said logic still applies. We sat and talked over ambient music and veils of smoke ribbons. She speaks in the favor of change. I could tell she was in her element of conviction. As she tells me her goals and aspirations I listen, but sometimes I go into automatic retro-vision mode, sorry. There were times when she would be in a state of extreme awareness in the past. I remember her words as should you. Listen.
She was lost in lament, eyes holding back a world’s worth of tears. She sat in suspended motion. Fluid thought, cemented posture. She spoke everything in a tone of sorrow. Later on from that time, in other words now, as she sits in front of me telling me what she was feeling. She said she felt the impact of the world’s hiatus from progress, and I could tell she felt it all on her tiny little shoulders. She goes on to show me how she sees society, and it ain’t pretty. She’s in tune to the fact that people are just feeding off the earth and taking it for granted and how disgusting things have gotten. Out of control is the first thing that comes to mind when I ask her what the general direction is we’re going as a people. Long ago, she tells me, people lived off this earth, respected the bounty of the lush and meat basically grew with it and there was a perfect balance. However swayed by her lucid encounter with the world’s life story, being ground in hers brought her back to tell the story. This is why she lives the way she does, from the earth. Eat from it, sleep on it, play in it; just don’t buy it, it’s yours .There is no need to fund already corrupt conglomerates in pursuit of your life, your liberties and your pursuit of happiness. She makes a good point.
She has chosen her mediums Film, Paint, photography and she is not afraid to do it. But we are. Yes, all of us who see the wrongs and don’t at least try to right them. Listening to her go on about how she would convey the pain and strife she has encountered thinking about all of us, and why she would save us with her films, pictures, paintings when she could. In my book that just makes her the Media Paladin who will show those of us who will listen to the light.
Just sitting here in my brand name clothes that I wear for no reason, drinking my unreasonably over priced coffee living my life not knowing what I put on my back or in my body makes me hate it all the moment she’s at a sentence’s end. I feel like I need to live like her and fight to change things and use what’s already there figuratively speaking or otherwise. When she shakes her finger at society I feel the lash. Seems like I’m slowly tearing myself away from vampire partnership we have grown to have with our home. Compared to her feelings and burning aspirations, I feel like a dirty vampire sucking away at the neck of mother earth. What sets her apart from you and me is this, the difference she sees in her head will be the images and colors you see in your homes, at your movie theater, in your university class room.
Her rationale laid out and purpose pure. You ask me are there still heroes and if so, do we still need them? I can only say this…when you talk to one you’ll know, and I know I’m not writing this in vain.