March in the Plains

In the pursuit of perfection, humanity will face challenges, mostly those that burden them more than what they can bear. It will take them realization of what necessary. War will explode inclusively inside their very own minds. And yet they still have to go forward.

Sometimes we will face those time when we have to march in the deathly plains. Nothing is on the horizon. But our feet are going and going, moving and moving. Nobody can stop the movement of the march this time. Almost perfect and solid, the lines will strike through the empty plains, to an uncertained destination. The voyage is abstract and seemed inconclusive.

We sometimes stand along, alone and fighting. We are the subject of their gossips. Our flaws will be memorized and constantly recounted like how they tell the old stories of humanity. Our mistakes and imperfection can sometime be the main menu of the feast. Word will be spread and we will no longer have much control over what we want people to know.

They said we don't care. They said we did things too radically, striking a resemblance of ridiculousness. We do things without fear, we do it because we simply know it is right, it is what we have to do. We don't care, because we are not afraid of the constant pressure of the infected parts of the society. We don't care because we are driven to do things based on the values and virtues, we don't care because we need to do it. We don't care because actually we care.

We felt the bitterness of defeat and failure. We felt the point of desperation, the plains being wider and almost impossibly empty. We cried until our tears are dry, until our knees are torn and until our hands are wet. We fell, we lay down and hopelessly stopped our march. We thought at that time that this is over, this is the end. We shall die like those skeletons laying beside us, peaceful and empty. Those skulls bear the widest smile, and the shiniest, brightest, solid face a man can have. We reached at the point where we thought, "This is it, I will be this".

And then that happens. The moment when we saw something in the horizon. Not a light, yet, nor a help. But something. Looking small but big at the same time, we rose and we looked at it carefully. Then we realized something.

This march has a destination.

We might have marched through the empty plains, dead horizon, without any knowledge on what is our destination. Then we saw it. We have the force, the power to conquer this empty plains, to go forward no matter what. But we rarely chose to. We rarely chose to go forward, being said what we do is only thinking of going forward. We never really do it, but we have the power, the control over ourselves. 

It is the time for us to chose, to go. We might have fallen into the rough grounds, but we can heal. We can keep going, we can rise, we can straighten up again and go. We still have this, we still have the long, long way on the plains. We still are standing on the great plains, out-scaled us to the millions. We still have it, and we can go. We can.

This is a march in the plains, this is a life in a time. This is a march toward a spot on the endless horizon, and we will go on. This is our march. And this is hope.

-June 4th, Phoenix, Arizona