you are now free to move about the cabin

I'm left with a field full of moles, and my garden's no good for nothing no more.


We can play our days in peaceful repeat of yesterday's events, just changing the dates on the newspapers, exchanging one disaster for another, wars hunger disease more war hate crimes discrimination racism inequality more war anarchy totalitarianism shooting mugging killing hazing more war more war more war until

...what exactly is it all building towards, if anything? Is a second's glimpse of hope love and beauty enough to make it worth seeing hearing living through the hours' weeks' months' years' and centuries' worth(?) of hurt hurt and more hurt?

History repeats itself they tell me they tell everyone. They mean it as instructional, it should be comforting that we have a past example something we can relate to what seems indecipherable today. But it's sad, isn't it, because the entire notion of it all that history is a cycle circling back again every some odd years, that whole premise hangs on the ugly fact that we don't learn from our lessons, that we do the things we do that hurt that set us back because we neglect. So it's not karma, neither fate nor destiny, but simply us taking the knife to our bare legs and cutting. Cutting. Cutting.

And it hurts!