Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Ants (Forty-Two Years Old, Broke Black Prophet) 2007

I know I have written about it before, but this life has never been about you, ever.  We sit up there and think that we are so important to this universe to have the nerve to think, it is all about me.  Well, I’m sorry to bust your delicate bubble Sunshine but, uh…no.  

Us?  Yes.  You?   Fuck you!  Do you understand?  I so hope that you do.  

“A grain of sand,” my Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs.  As simple as a grain of sand.   When one granule of sand thinks they are different and better than another than, what makes Us a cohesive desert?  

We see ants all the time but still take no notice of the fact that ants understand the basic survival skills that humans have discounted, being:  without you there is no me.  And if you don’t look out for me, we can no longer survive.  We can no longer exist...with one another or survive as a collective entity.  And we just may become extinct.  

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