The Real Cost 

That which lets you pursue your goals,

To fuck the planet in all its holes;

To plant your dreams of power and money

In gardens beyond, for borders seem so funny;

To kill for the right to save some beasts

And the privilege to cook others for feasts;

To sloganeer for the right to curse and sneer

At the very thing which takes away your fear –
The shattered hopes of a tearless father,

The trampled breast of a tearful mother,

The desert heart of a soul-robbed wife,

The kids who need to build a cheerless life,

The frozen, splintered youthful body of martyrdom,

Are the prices that are paid, for that, your freedom

I have always been a great believer. I've flitted from one belief to another, from religion to atheism and from one philosophy to another, until I finally settled on J. Krishnamurti whose philosophy is that there is no philosophy. So now I firmly believe that there is nothing to believe. Now such a belief would, I believe, have been considered dangerous to society if the authorities had believed me to be of any consequence. No man of consequence they believe would waste his time on the pursuit of blogging!

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