We are an oppressive and oppressed people. And in each action there seems to be a lack of good and an overwhelming sense of insincerity. We are not a caring people. This is our triumph and bondage.
Slaves to our own uncause. We are turned inward like a rolled leaf, unable to take in sunlight. We have become dark. Not dark like the beauty of a night sky, but dark without light, dark without faith, dark without the need to aid others.
We are caught up in the meaninglessness of self-image and self-importance. We diet and run and try to lose weight while six-thousand children die from starvation each day. We are pathetic. Only we would gouge out our eyes and gorge our bellies and call it a day well spent.
Maybe a depression is what we need: a wake up call to our selfish ways. The depression won’t set us back—it will set us right. Bring it on. The faster the better.
