Awhile ago I wrote “What is home?” as a study of my emotional attachment to 25 acres that passed out of my grasp at 22.
Little did I know then, when I could have envisioned myself marrying Mom’s newly discovered yard man, I forget his name but can still see a glimpse of him in my mind’s lazy eye.
Yet, here we are.
Here. We are.
We are present and accounted for. We belong to the beginning of light. We can only try to advance what is good in mankind with tremendous effort.
Our DNA is simply not wired to be good. In fact, that moral Notion takes consciousness and will, when propelling mob mentality is more expedient and not only are there no free lunches but you can’t even sing for your supper.