Every now and then, body and soul reach capacity.
The modern world, largely devoid of compassionate humanity, takes a toll on those who choose to walk against the crowd.
In Sydney, after 35 years, I felt completely alone.
Coming to Tasmania was an awakening of the soul, and a healing of all that is connected.
It was heartening to find that there was a better place, with connected people, but then the proposed pulp mill shemozzle smacked me fair between the eyes.
Delving deeper into the unknown, was an unwanted adventure, consuming every other hour, and when the weight became too much, I sat for a while to regain my breath, and then back to work, with the redundant load I was lumbered.
Now free from past burdens, life has evolved, and is really quite sweet, as long as my eyes are closed and my ears covered.
Herein lies my problem.
I’ve had enough of those who rule our lives.
Zombies and retards.
Why do they find it their mission to treat people as they do?
Where is the good in man?
It’s like “ground hog day” , only they shuffle the actors every now and then, wheeling out someone else from the old boys club to fill the gap, when the fire becomes to hot, and someone gets fried.
Tasmania still has a great opportunity to really fly, but there are so many anchors attached to the balloon, that until they are cut loose, the basket of goodies will remain in the mire.
So, the time has come to stop bailing the sinking ship, overloaded with plunderers, rednecks, the self interested, hangers on, trough guzzlers and their ilk.
It’s time for me to jump ship and swim, for the suction is pulling me down, as it heads toward rock bottom.
Here or not, one thing is as certain as 560,000 x 1080 baits have not killed one fox yet, that the show, as it has always done, will roll on.
Bests to all that keep the faith, and fight the good fight.
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