Honor

I believe that perhaps our previous lives those that we remember in dreams or snippets of reality can haunt us daily. Quietly snaking our subconscious to understand our past. Who we were. Who we are now and who we are to become. In ancient Rome a barbaric part of human relations were uncivilized amongst the masses and barely civil amongst the powers. Those that walked under footsteps of Caesar and his legions before him wore civility like the crowned leaves upon their heads. Men whose desire for blood was feeble at best. They hid behind the armor of their generals and the men who served Rome as it's faithful servants. Among these various hats of war were the gladiators. Entertainment killers. Men whose fear had been banished by slavery, death or tragedy unwarranted. These machines of man created the shadows their fearful leaders could walk in. Their battles won and stolen as pride for their emperor. Disposable heroes.

Today in our banal, apathetic and over processed tedious lives we know nothing of the fearlessness of our ancestors. We have been cradled and swaddled in our indulgence and have made fear triumphant. Something to wear like a badge. Medicated, therapeutic passive zombies. Our society has made us mongrels. There are no battles so to speak. We have chosen to live behind bars of insecurities and non confrontation. It has made us disgusting.

I believe in my anger. My temper. My blood that boils. I breathe it in and embrace it. I challenge my fellow humans on their capacity for insular behavior. Their inability to fight. To open their mouths and use them as weapons to settle the score. I have fear as well but I will never become servile to the ways of the 21st century for in a past life I was a soldier. A fighter. I picked up the sword with conviction and faith. Those weapons long gone still haunt my memory.