6/26
now who put the poison pen in this maniac's paw, giving him permission to spread his bile, treating others with contempt and fear?
whose blessing gave him a feeling of ease, ensuring a golden wreath of appreciation, placing him above the poor strugglers?
why let the way he sees things rule, enthroning his humanity in a bubble, preventing any real contact from occurring?
how am i so convinced he's not me, buffing my nails until they gleam, filing the points to penetrate his ego?
when compassion costs more than hatred, cheapening interactions into sound bites; when the way i appear is taken as real, allowing masks to replace hearts; when a teacher owns a seaside fortress, fencing himself away from the lepers... 
who says that nothing is sacrosanct; whose life entitles him to more; why bother to click on "reject"; 
how long can i hold onto my disgust, when it tastes just like my own mouth? 

now i am losing patience. i thought that i could replace it with understanding but i feel that just knowing why is never going to be enough. i sit and watch the circus that is social media and i wish that someone would just really reach out, ask to meet face-to-face or even just share who they are, not just what they think about what is going on(real or not?) in the world they see reflected in the light of their screen. i guess it's just that i am feeling alone. i keep hearing Pink Floyd asking "Is there anybody in there?" yes. keep asking, but not on the facebook, please.namaste