On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero. So who decides who lives and who dies? This is a more confounding question when you consider that the time lines of some are shorter than others. It’s as though there is some dark story written out before we are even born. This story foretells what will happen to whom and when- only, we are not privy to reading it; we must live through it.
If given the chance to rewrite our history, things would be quite different. These maggots on spoons we’ve so voluntarily eaten and digested, as truths, would be seen for what they really are. Everything would be exposed and no lies would exist between loved ones. There would be no strangers and everyone would embrace each other as brother and sister. This would be my wish as a god for a day, but this is not reality.
Realistically, we all live daily tragedies. One of my closest friends would do anything for a new set of teeth. When I think of this, I imagine that one of my talents or ideas would generate enough revenue to supply this friend with teeth as white as mine. Another looks to a brighter future, free from a tyrannical ex-wife- a future where his children are safe with him in a house of love and nurturance. Another wishes for a career and an end to the proverbial tornado that has moved his life around so violently leaving no stability.
The world, in which we live, is cold and competitive. It is filled with liars and fakes. It is composed of the most violent deaths and the saddest miseries. This world is not what we make of it but what it makes of us. Will it devour us, or forfeit our existence in this rotting place, where no man not of this world would wish to be. This is reality. This is your life. Now open your eyes and see the world around you for the first time. How does it feel to live in the house of flies?