Music, words and imagery. A truth seeking wanderer.
There’s a light rain, on a bracing October morning in the Oceanside region. It’s Thanksgiving weekend in Canada. I chose to stay on the island, rather than trek back to the mainland. There’s an air of strangeness and uncertainty this month that made me feel it wiser to stay put.
It seems in the age of “wokeness” and sensationalistic activism that there has been a swift and severe degradation of our capacity for civil discourse and critical conversation on challenging and complicated issues. The moment a narrative has traction or popular adoption, speaking against it in any way places you solidly in the “against us” category. It’s embarrassing, infantilistic, and clearly holding us back from progressing as a collective.
When you go about rebuilding personal momentum, the initial phase concerns retraining yourself into following through, and taking persistent action on impulses and instincts — something you may have been resisting in one way or another.
I was dreaming of being in a place that seemed to find the few of us survivors in a constant state of worry for our lives. It seemed dystopian.
You have done enough. But if you still choose to wake in the morning, if you still choose this dream over the other, your works here aren’t complete.
