We live in a world where we are taught self-perpetuation. This ideal allows us to embrace apathy. Self promotion causes us to shed the rational right of equality. Life is simplified to the hard but simple mechanics of a seesaw; for one to be elevated, the other must be abased. We live with such cut-throat idioms that we have become desensitized to the cruelty of these ideals. However, for a society or peoples to be referred to as a civilization, there is an irrefutable inference of “blanket” care or consideration. So, we are living in an opposing duality. A deceitful social conscience that often blurs the line between right and wrong in regards to human value.
In a society where everyone is allowed to breathe or enjoy daily measured success, we call that socialism. We are a society in love with monikers. There has to be a descriptive name for everything. However, our constitution entitles every individual the right to be happy. But the unwritten code of winners versus losers still seeks to resist our democratic constitution.
Most interestingly is that life, and every positive facet of it, has been afforded in the democracy of legislative ink. This fact has been rebranded as traitorous Socialism. The elitist practice or working trend is conversely ethereal, but brings with it a very real and cold hard death.These elitists are armed with an assumed unilateral right to exorcise those plebeians, whom of which dare eat their food or breathe their mechanically cleaned air.
The global economics of our world has created a machine that will continue to define winners and losers. The hopelessly blind would ask: “How could this happen?” Such a question is a forfeiture of our inherent “caste system:” ie/ the Upper Class, the Middle Class and of course, the shamelessly gratifying lower class. (I was told to not give them the dignity of capitalization, since they clearly made no use of it!) The lower class continues to be viewed as graphic roadkill, and has long been viewed as the foil wrapper on gum. These first group of losers on the chopping block have received their Last Rites and are most cordially scheduled to be devoured by this machine.
Hopefully “history” will ask: “How did this happen” in our CIVILization!?
These are truly the first fruits of this new game of global economics. The middle class now becomes the new dog and loses its capitalization for the same reason the lower class did, remember them? (Try not to spit.) The middle class are truly in the Throes of Death and will only be given a lifeline, (intravenous “slow drip”) until the Elitist Machine is a picture of Proficient Autonomy.
While the 21st century turns a blind eye to the ever increasing homeless phenomena, our government says: it is the “new standard or common place consensus.” These areas should not be referred to as ghettos, but rebranded as: “Toxic Refuse.” They are clearly the exhaust from “The Machine.” There was a time when people worked together and functioned as a unit or tribe. Everyone worked together for the benefit of each other and the welfare of the land in which they lived. Curiously enough, these people were referred to as natives and more crudely as savages! Clearly their definition of “win” was most harmonious in all aspects.
The 21st century machine processes hate, war, greed, apathy, self preservation/promotion and provides the fuel for the new economy, but its byproduct of fumes creates asphyxiation for all of the remaining natives.
Wall Street is so blatantly structured that when people lose, they win, and when they win they really win! Another curious thing is that we punctuate or define winning by the abject loss of another. Not too long ago the metric of existence allowed success for all groups at every level. There was no defining “crossing of the tape”, as it were, in a race, or the customary waving of a flag to signify success, because it was simply “everyday casual.”
This life is perpetually oxymoronic, but I strongly believe this is the facilitation of inherent socio-economic atmospheres served on the palate of traditional prejudices and quiet fears of uncontested ignorance.
Rachel Stephens
My name is Rachel Stephens, I am 19 years old and I am so driven at times that hot meals are rare. I am the second youngest having 4 brothers and 2 sisters. I like to create music and play a variety of instruments, along with teaching myself new techniques and ways to improve. Writing about things in life I see and share my point of view, I consider it one of my more personal hobbies that I enjoy and will sometimes apply it to my music compositions. My art allows further expression and it all defines me. I am most comfortable when I’m immersed in my compositions.