Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Theft of Memory

In a malfunctioning democracy, people are inundated with the language of progress, continuity and radical change. The nation watches the parody of rule congregate to sustain the definition of democratic elections.

When the definition of democracy becomes a routine exercise, memories dim and slither into pits to mingle with silent intonations. With the waning of history, people discover themselves within a new identity that is too shallow to harbour anything but the stilted present seconds that evaporate with time.

Administering a Form of Justice (10)

The mind forgets rationality when a form of justice is seemingly unable to comprehend its confusion.

In such an instance, the invisible narrator is lost in the events fabricated around him. Logic is drowned in applause and deafening hammering, and the gap between sanity and coercion narrows to a flimsy threshold, beneath which are lies intent on butchering logic and smothering it in doubt.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Administering a Form of Justice (9)

An erroneous belief that clouds perception is that justice constitutes an element of truth. Coercing individuals to utter words of honour is part of the drama unfolding during months of accumulated fables. These feeble tales are unworthy of narration, and the intonation falters but, since honour has been declared, the words impress and betray wisdom

Justice erodes patience and plagues innocence with helplessness. It serenades with time, oblivious to suffering and hibernates in its decadent glory. At the final encore, its harsh tones emit a pronunciation of incomprehensible words that condemn a mind to sever itself from fulfillment.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Distances (2)

There is a distance swathed in sand, with gentle colours lapping at its shores. The continent beckons with increasing insistence, while the island whines piteously, shackled by an identity mired in confusion and a system that prides itself on defamation.

It is a narration without a definite ending, thrashing in an abyss that rears with vengeance and subsides without a tremor. The distance is no longer the attainable memory of past years; it is now burdened with deciding a future that cannot hasten to rebel with defiance. Distance has succumbed to the identity of confusion that emanates from the island of rhetoric.

Administering a Form of Justice (8)

Treachery occurs when a fabricated story is spouted under the patronage of justice. Justice abides by its malfunctioning judgement of believing oaths to be absolute truth, rather than discerning the nature of a storyteller intent on garnering applause at the expense of defaming an invisible character.

When the story reaches its epilogue, justice declines to ponder an alternate ending and soothes its conscience with obliterating the obligation of fairness.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

The Psychology of Power

Power has a staunch belief in being able to survive through intimidating practices. When this corruption is exhausted, it starts accumulating enough arrogance to claim control over language. There is one flaw, however. Power deems itself superior to the intelligence of people but, with time, people learn how to dissect a sentence and do not expect to find any genuine purpose in the uttered words.

Power is a lie that weakens with opposition from those who respect language as a medium of truth, not a tool to be manipulated with selfish intent.

It revels in creating and highlighting differences in society by addressing the nation in sections - creating the distinction between social classes to eradicate respect.

This lie limits itself to constructing boundaries, chaining workers to accept conditions that do not satisfy the created needs. Power feels most at ease when the wronged complain of their misfortune to the usurpers of natural freedom.

Power is limited. Its dictionary consists of a mere three volumes detailing the definition of capitalism, colonialism and consumerism.

Defeating power harbours a message to return the gift of freedom to the masses. Defeating power will allow language to flourish, ideals to survive and revolution to triumph.

"If you tremble indignation at every injustice, then you are a comrade of mine." Ernesto Che Guevara.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Diary of a Companera (4)

Reclaiming ownership on a voyage of identity presented a wonderful opportunity to challenge the insignificance of citizenship in relation to the self. My mind opposed the sovereignty of borders, as they presented an obstacle to the concept of revolution that should encompass humanity. The masses were fettered in fragmented lands, intent on preserving a notion defined as 'national heritage'.

The masses are being indoctrinated into supporting causes that power needs to defend. There is no mention of distributing thought, for abstract concepts are declared treacherous by the ruling crowd.

In the mellow twilight, i behold other pens intent on engraving ideals on paper, and the monument of revolution trembles. there is a trickle of moisture dampening its texture, and my belief that ideals transcend the world of futile dreams consolidates. There is not a single comrade who claims not to be affected by the names who made past revolutions possible, but certainty lies in a revolution that is pursued through knowledge, and with the determination that forbids political entities to become an infested, collective conscience.

Identity of a Companera (3)

When the companera looks back on the perilous past, there are no relics that comfort her mind with the conviction she believed had surrounded her. Eight years ago, capitalism and its selective throngs of power compelled her memory to rebel and generate defiance. She was a silhouette in a group of activists.

The companera was united with her former dissident identity after years of constructing safe havens and discerning hues of shadows. A few of the activists had become enamoured of usurping power, and defected to safety, disregarding the ideals of unyielding protests.

In the silence emanating from her return, the companera denounced popular theories. She pledged allegiance to the politics of common good and aspirations; upholding knowledge and denouncing the ambition that placed opposing puppets as guardians of the nation's mind.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

A Note of Caution from the Companera

Protecting individuality and language is necessary throughout the ordeal of becoming a dissident. The mediocre puppets will try to lacerate your language to proclaim you unworthy of uttering a defence. Feign muteness and strengthen articulation by attending to calligraphy and practising oration.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Diary of a Companera (3)

The monument of revolution emanated silent definitions of dissidence. It insisted on renouncing the submissive identity that education bestowed upon humanity.

On the fictitious island of compromise, education banned thought and opinion. In the highest institutions of perforated knowledge, puppet philosophers intimidated seekers of thought, coercing the to abandon their quest of forming new theories. Under the fallacious notion of nurturing intellect, the puppets forbade the formulation of opinion.

To be a dissident on the island of compromise, one has to enter the institution of mediocrity, allow the principal performers to proclaim your worthlessness and agree to adhere to fabricated regulations that will deem you a failure in spite of your intellect.

The nest step is to allow the pretentious performers to patronise you. Look at their painted faces, or gaze at the speckled tiles and pretend to admit your surrender. When it is your turn to accept their compromise, decline their generosity and defend your intellect. This will earn you a number of degrading adjectives, the least of which will be 'Ungrateful'.

Once you have traipsed through the abomination, resign yourself to achieve only failures during your last months at the institution of mediocrity. This is the ultimate step n setting your signature as a possible future dissident. Take pride in waiting four years without obtaining a compromised certificate.

Having journeyed through these circumstances, you will finally gain acknowledgement and citizenship in the island of contradictory landscapes.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Identity of a Companera (2)

The companera is a stranger to individuality through motives that unite the self with defending common causes. She maps a voyage with incessant fervour, and measures progress with an urge devoid of gain and brimming with ideals.

In her travels, she visits the square that pays homage to revolution, and listens to an orator defamed by history and present. The masses are rapt, but the companera moves restlessly until she can discern the eyes of the intellectual rebel explaining the wisdom neglected by masquerading powers.

Administering a Form of Justice (7)

In the absence of fairness, justice is exceptional in slandering reputation.

An imaginary face once listened to a verdict that paralysed her memory, according to the prediction she was forced to absorb. Butchering the attachment between identity and memory, knowledge became an abstract unattainable commodity, bestowed on those who complied with the rules of submission. When the face succumbed to intimidation, knowledge mocked her and repudiated her mind.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Diary of a Companera (2)

There is an eagerness to incline towards apathy - always a comfortable distance separating fulfilled lives from that of a harassed identity mired in a circumstance that time renders tediously normal. When solitude embraces you with compassion, the butterflies disturbing the breeze with their fluttering wings become a parody of truth.

The paper faces melt in the rain, and the echoes soothe only their alienated owners, sheltering them with blissful oblivion.

Identity of a Companera (1)

Far away, on the island of contradictory landscapes, the companera eliminated all traces of the land which imprisoned her memory. She abandoned the quest of changing her name, deciding instead to strenghten the meaning of wise protection.

The next time I spied her silhouette, she was weeping at the monument of revolution.