Declaring Independence

I remember several years ago I had a mild addiction to tobacco. Although, I didn’t find it necessary to smoke multiple cigarettes a day, I definitely liked to have one or two every day. One day it dawned on me that I was pretty much a slave to this habit so I just quit and have never tried tobacco again. It was refreshing to have my independence back. I never realized so deeply how a habit can consume your individuality like that.

in·de·pend·ence [in-di-pen-duhns] noun
1. Also, independency. the state or quality of being independent.
2. freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others.

Ponder the definition of independence for a moment in respect to our lives. How many things are we dependent on for happiness? Security? Entertainment? It seems that we are consumed with things we depend on for a happy existence but truly we need very little. Actually, I believe we’d be much more happy if we had less things controlling us, because that is what is happening to us. We are becoming more dependent, conditioned if you will. 

Our forefathers told the Kingdom of Great Britain to go “pack sand up their ass” in 1776 and the world was changed forever. Think about how our lives could change if we declared independence from the things controlling our lives? Whether it be your job, cigarettes, booze, women, iphone, porn, food, or some loser friend, we can declare our own personal independence and seek freedom.

So tomorrow, while we stuff our faces with meat that has been formed in cellulose tubes, let’s think about things we can declare independence from. Let’s become our own countries, protect our borders from bullshit, and launch missiles at the objects of our dependence.

Summer Town

we start moving through stillness of sky 
nowhere to be found
sauntering down cobblestone streets

far away a side of town holds sun burned air
and knocks crickets into song

wind licked fields, tickle heels, and strides
while coughing up bee clouds, stings are ready

the tree at the end of the field is singing a sleep song
wanting us under it
waiting for dreams to steal

there will be no other time here this fine for living
when we disappear it all goes on without us