Motion

And what would happen in a motionless world, where the only exercise for men was masturbation and the groans and squeals of trifling ecstasy were supplemented with filth and beer? I want to live in a world where people move and touch and stretch their senses beyond the unimaginable. I want a world where people grin and bear, instead of reaching out to touch their hair. If vanity were replaced with calm, peace would flow from streetlamp to dirty streetlamp, from parking fine to strip club. There would be no war, no competition, no flashy twats in chrome topped Audis, giggling drunkenly like babies at the wheel of death. No curled moustaches. No girls by the side of the road. No vulnerability. No flames of destruction flattening the villages. No boys with toy guns, plastic knives and re-usable fireworks. I want to walk down the street without being told to change my religion. I do not want your books and preaching; if God wants me he can tell me so himself. I do not want us to fear sleep or death or life. I want to wake up in the morning without my eyes having been glued together by night’s sticky grasps. I want to see the sun, see the day. Lose myself for a short while. Hold on tight to life’s weak grasp. I want to see the clouds from an aeroplane again, to see a baby screaming with glee, a mother not using her fists or her sweaty palms. I want to see a father loving and holding tight. No pleading, no suffocation, no impatience. Only disorder from a broken home, and the foolish grin of a child who is no longer concerned with the matters of the past, and runs with his eyes tight shut towards the polluted tides of the future.