gonzocervantes

To the degree that I believe in war, it is only to submit to the fact that it exists, however, low in my regard.

My life has been an exploration concerning the art of nonviolence. I have cultivated my wits, humors, artistic temperaments, body, and sensitivities, all as alternatives to violence.

I will not succumb to the pressure of an authority, aside from mine alone, telling me to fight someone. Even in the close counsel of family and loved friends, I reserve the final judgment.

To die for freedom? No greater irony exists than that. Death is the ultimate tyrant and enemy to mortal existence. Freedom befriends human essence, nurturing it, allowing it to become a wondrous whatever. One cannot die for freedom nor can one fight for peace. Peace brings about peace and freedom begets itself.

What does it mean to die for something? Death is the ultimate form of surrender. Life, in death, retreats into some unknown chasm, and every known quality of the former individual vanishes and the body decays. The notion that death could lead to freedom solidifies itself in lies.

Freedom is given to us not as a possession, but as a choice.

To the extent that I believe in high patriotic ideals and their power to let blood, I believe that they exist, however, conflicting in my mind. For too often have these ideals resonated truth but, in practice, manifested as a swarm of lies. Lingering in my ear, their infernal buzzing that mocks principles with their actions. There are no principles here on earth. There are only echoes and interpretations of divine concepts.

To the extent that my reservations about war stem from fear, I would agree. Fear inhibits, in similar ways as death. Fear is a checkpoint on the roadway to death. I avoid them both, for neither advances anyone. This concept of growth through fear is misunderstood. It is courage that advances one. What brings about courage if not fear? Merely the unknown, and those two concepts need to be separated like a tumor from the flesh.

I am reminded of the Western Front in WWI where hundreds, indeed, thousands of men died for the gain of but a few feet of ground. How many feet have I traversed in peace, and, for the thousands of dead, do I honor them with each step I make in peaceful progression? Among other causes, which have only just begun to ripen, I live for peace. It is embedded in my nature and manifests itself in my dealings. Being capable of hate, of distrust, prejudice, all seven deadly sins, terse nature, disdain, jealousy and resentment, peace exists in my heart not in accordance, but at times in spite of it. It is there in the brief mental flicker after anger, when I disagree with anothers thought. Patience seeks it.

Peace is not rightfully brought about through assimilation. When two concepts stand laterally and staunchly opposed to one another and coexist, that is peace. The essence of peace is separation. Separation from the angry emotions that are to quickly called upon.

I am already in the military. For I have learned how to control bombs. I can ensure that no civilians will be hurt by them. My precision bombing technique, does not drown out the voices of honest diplomatic solutions. The explosions do not knock the power out in the cities were hate has not yet begun to brew. I can make sure that no bomb is wasted and that everyone dropped furthers the peace process; because I know how to drop them into the abyss, and utilize intelligence to overcome what enemies I currently perceived.